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stopdoopy Nov 2018
Getting soaked to the bone

Until some kind people stopped

And offered me an umbrella

A hot shower
A warm meal
A cozy fire

And a new home

Don't come knocking on my door
When you've seen I've found better

Because the rain has stopped

And all I have left to give

Is a scorching heat to burn you with
For this Thanksgiving I wanted a poem that was happy but I decided to post this one instead and i chose it because maybe it by itself isn't happy but the stuff behind it is. Dedicated to my friends who've helped me, and honestly are just there in my day to day life, you guys feel like my family and I love you all.
Janna Jul 2018
The hand of my Creator
Was knocking on the door step
Of my heart
Patiently waiting
Always seeking
His lost daughter and child
To return into His mighty arms
- soulwriterj
I found my way back home.
mysa Apr 2018
last night i heard a strange type of knocking
outside the door in the floor below me.
at points it sounded like footsteps pounding up the stairs,
coming for the closest room in the apartment: mine
it was something so terrifying and yet in the morning everyone said they had heard nothing.
your picture
paints it clear
that one
what is this you cry man tears

ever bruised
Cat Lynn Jul 2017
She drives up in her small silver Toyota, the third of four daughters sitting right beside her.
She doesn't remember the countless times times they've drove here, or the reason why this place lures her here. Her mind was in such a stir.
They both dreaded the house that sat high on its hill in overbearing superiority
Indeed it was huge in size, but also greatly known for its power, wealth and authority
She felt like a fish on a hook, hanging in midair. Her words caught in her throat. The silence was deeply disturbing. Her heart pounding its drum louder and louder into her ears
"It's hard to believe its been10 years…” She could hear her daughter's voice trembling in disbelief and fear.
The one she still embraces as "son" still lived in the mega-size prison.
Staring at the monolith made the memories of the distant one form an imagination
The day she hoped for, the day where [when] He would return to them....The day when the mysteries of him and the mysteries of his life would be solved
As time passed on, she hoped that his courage would evolve
So peace and comfort would finally marry, where anger and hate would be burned
Her deep daydream was disturbed by the sound of the car door slamming; her clear conscious was slowly earned.
She looked to the left of her to find an empty gray seat with her daughter[’]s black hoodie, but not her.
She looked around in a hurricane panic until she heard her daughter’s cat-like purr
She ******] her head up to look at the hill, as she rolled her window slowly down.
She saw her daughter walk up the winding driveway that lead up to the mansion, as her heart had complete meltdown.
"Cat!!! Come back!!! You can't go up there!! We can both get in trouble!"
She could tell her daughter was lost in her own confidence and determination, her heart beats now in doubles
Knowing she couldn't scream any louder, she flew open the car door but stopped herself in her tracks
She reminded herself that it was her face they would recognize, she would be in more danger then her daughter of black.
She saw her stand at the doorstep of the beast that waited to be awakened
She saw the clinching of her hand, turning into a rock hard fist, its foundation of the heart refused to be shaken
She felt the whites of her eyes wanting to pop out in disbelief, her voice injected with numbness; she could not find the words to say
Her daughter knew she would not be recognized, she wore a mask of black design. Her reputation would not be slayed
The cat-eyes looked at the majesty of the beast; her eyes could not contain the image of it in just a few blinks
She watched her daughter raise her fist in the air, knowing what the next few seconds may bring; she got into her car and with worry as she tried to think
Her ears wanted to go deaf her eyes longed to to go blind, as in slow motion she saw her fist about to collide...

Her Daughter stopped the momentum, her hand almost there, wanting to knock on it so badly, but knowing it would only bring a ****-burning ride
Her hand dropped down, back to her side, as she sat at the door step, she couldn't help but to cry.
Her ***** white arms tightly hugging her knees like a friend, oh how hard they tried
She constantly licked her lips as her cat eye linear beginning to get soaked
Running down her face like raindrops on a windowpane, she felt her heart choke
Her black tears ran down her face until she felt the ache burn the sadness inside of her
"Go away pain, you must be contained!" her daughter said as she petted her own hair like fur.
She sighed in relief, leaning back in her driver’s seat, watching her daughter slowly walk back towards the car, seeing her head hanging low
She flung open the passenger side door and then closed it as she sat in her seat, the tears she tried to hide still continuing their flow
She petted her daughter’s shoulder to show her everything was going to be alright
Her mind went blank as her daughter responded with words that felt like a bite
"Please don't think I'll never do it, please don't think my mind has changed."
"The Knock is still there, it's just on hold, but it will make its sound someday...”
”Someday, I know”
Sadly this is all but an imagination, an imagination I am determined to make grow!

(Thank You Jim Musics for your time and help!)
Hector Jan 2017

Dry oak fingers taping tunes on roof tiles

late night winds howling songs of past times

in a daze spooky dreams turned to rhymes

caught between being awake and asleep

if I die pray my soul god to keep


Don’t come calling until sins reconcile

fears play under shadows of death

when she takes life away in one breath

no one there to bemoan or to weep

if I die pray my soul god to keep


And in dreams every moment conspires

to make fears come alive in my bed

while in slumber I’m already dead

one loud knock to arouse me from sleep

if I die pray my soul god to keep

Pale death, with impartial step, knocks at the hut of the poor and the towers of kings. -Horace
I woke up again in the middle of the night with a knock. It happens often and at first I would get up and check the doors but no one there. I stopped looking and simply go back to bed but that knock wakes me up every time.
For so long you've been knocking on the doors on my heart...
Doors made of steel to protect me from intruders like you...
For so long I've been avoiding any kind of feelings that would lower my guard and turn the steel of these doors into liquid...
I didn't want to feel anything...
But my mind surrenders to the beauty of your smile, the color of your eyes and your words, giving you access to my heart...
Oops, you're in...
I'm ******* now...
Now I just have to pray for you to stay and behave...
Don't make a mess...
Everything is very fragile in there...
Welcome to my heart I hope you find your missing pieces there.
Kathleen Dec 2016
The pipes are knocking in the walls; groaning and dying.
You roll to the other side of the bed.
I roll out of bed and put a *** on.
The lights outside are strewn in no particular order and just on the door;
as if to say 'we tried'.
We try until the pipes burst.
We try until the coffee runs out.

I let skynet tell me the news brief and sit here.
I could be studying a way out of here.
But I don't go in until after noon.
I make another cup of coffee.
Listen to Teagan and Sara.
Look at ways to **** time...

The pipes haven't burst yet, but they're still knocking in the walls.
Wyatt Aug 2016
And you've never been welcome in my house
but you still find a way to barge in
when you should be out
because all these things have always been on you
and you should be separated from me here and now.
It's been guaranteed for awhile now
that everything in my life
has crashed and burned when you touched it,
you sent it all south.

But I let you in and that's all it took
to have this butterfly effect
start coming for me every time
things start looking up
and I start to ascend into the clouds
but I should know by now
that you'll be knocking again pretty soon
so I better get over it now.

You've got these things about you
that just poison my mood
and send myself spiraling
to the bottom
and yet I still let you in.
You've been lingering in this house.
This is about the devil, and the "house" is referring to my head.
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