#knocking
oh no i've said something
that would make the superstitious worry
for myself or loved ones
i better knock on wood
but i've dropped the salt
"turn three times
and toss over the shoulder
opposite the hand
holding it"
now i should check the doors
it's after six
thirty-six past six specifically
they should be locked
i better check again
oh no they weren't
i should knock on wood
and check again
did i just lock them?
i better check again
now if you've never had
to knock on wood
you wouldn't know why
And be glad you haven't yet
Because we know it isn't good
i hope that's the impression that you get
oh i better knock on wood
Nov 18, 2025
Nov 18, 2025 at 5:10 PM UTC
love came knocking
on her
door
like it had done so
many times
before
yet she wasn't open
to love's
call
for she'd built around
herself an impervious
wall
those she'd loved
from the
past
none had hearts that
would ever
last
inside her core
dwelt deep
distress
though she needed
a true love's
caress
love came knocking
on her
door
like it had done so
many times
before
Jul 25, 2021
Jul 25, 2021 at 7:00 PM UTC
1431
poems in ye old inbox,
genteel knocking,
whispering thru stolid front door
love me a little lot,
little lot, love me?
this is not mere work product,
collegial-laid upon me for gentle shared, for pre-review,
Nottingham Forest arrowed, bow shaped
pithy comments,
these are the holy-of-the-holies
attention-me-crystal-cries,
prayers, wry observations, nature collations,
me and thee adorations, heart rendering
screams of need,
these are the moments in your life
raw-roughened gifted or threaded smooth cursed,
but tendered unto my caring.
(an aside:
perhaps you understand better now
why woman-in-the-moon imagery,
red bowed, grapefruit tasting hearts,
all the lovelies, word shape shifts a/k/a
Imagery
language delights!
but time-using, confusingly confuses,
and has been erased from my own poetry frame)
gnawing doubt me routs,
god gave me humans,
and gave them speech,
to bring me
closer to him
thru them.
somewhere in those 1431 essays of labor,
dashed off, handcrafted, pithy or poor,
just might be the one
justification for my opening my eyes
this poetry someday Sunday sun-day.
put the cofe on
(saving letters, saving time,
deleting unnecessary e's
from my life till when I am dying on
all-on-that desperate
e-n-ee-dy day).
loaded my shotgun heart with
loves and likes,
yellow thunderbolt bullets firing,
and considered yourself
notified
I'm a-coming over,
shoes on the cofe table,
breaking taboo's
gonna read 1431
and when dining done,
gonna pay attention to my muse,
my woman, cause she is the
original e,
that provides the raw materials,
in ye old nat-box,
that lets me love ever one of them,
she is the e
in me
and me will be in you,
starting now.
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 6:57 AM UTC
Once upon a time there was a girl who lived in a house full of shadows and mirrors with no one to help her out but herself. Cobwebs covered the corners and her feet and her eyes. At some point she had given up from leaving and stayed still for years. One day, there was a knock on the door and the girl shivered off her webs and slowly walked over to the locked door to set her ear against the cold wood. She didn't hear anything else other than a shuffle and the sound of footsteps walking away. The girl went back to her place where she had stood and found a crack of light across the mirror. Desperate to see and to escape the shadows she tried moving the mirror to reflect the light tenfold. But she pushed too hard and the mirror feel and shattered. She sat there in the broken glass, blood dripping from her legs. She sat there and cried, angry for the hope she had gotten. And she stayed still for another year until a knock at the door was heard again. This time she ignored it. She ignored it so well, she thought, that even when it got louder she turned her head, piercing her feet on the glass that still lay around her. She muffled a scream and listened to the knocking. It had stopped, why had it stopped? She got up to check the door, wincing in pain at each step. But when she pressed her ear against the door once more, the sound was gone and replaced with the echoing footsteps of someone leaving. The girl, angered, stomped back to her place only to see the light again. She felt excited and tried to at least touch the light, hold it in her hands to feel warm. She took a step forward, crashing into the mirror that had been reflecting it, once more breaking the reflective glass. More blood and pain and tears. The next time she saw the light or heard the knocking she ignored it.
It took years, each one annually the knocking came and went and the light feel across the girl in her cobwebs, shadows, and mirrors in a locked up house that no one noticed, wanted, or saw. She felt more and more alone with each coming day, the knocking the only thing that made her happy because it meant that something living was there at the other side of the door. If only she could open it.
One the day she decided to give up all thoughts of meeting the one who knocked at her door, she stood up and walked across the glass, tearing her feet. She crashed into mirrors, ****** and bruised she reached the door and leaned against it, crying.
When she heard the knocking she cried harder. The knocking continued, three even knocks. A pause. And then three even knocks. It would do this one last time. The girl was fed up with the knocking by now, so she decided to do it to them, too. She knocked back three times after the second knock of theirs. She waited. The knock came from them. She knocked back. It continued until the light in the house moved to the mirror in front of her fully and she saw herself, blood and tear stained in the reflection. She smiled at herself. She heard something move, something metal slide from underneath her door. Something cold touched her fingertips as she wrapped her hand around it. A rusty old key. She used it to unlock the door to see who had been knocking for her all those years. She opened the door.
And there the girl was, smiling back at herself. "You made it."
The End
Apr 16, 2020
Apr 16, 2020 at 8:37 PM UTC
I tend to forget about all that goes on in my life,
Each mental note is burned,
Like a moth enticed by the beautiful flame,
No matter the importance,
Each trial becomes engulfed by the bigger questions,
That tend to argue about my very existence,
Every realization of growth rises in smoke,
A puff of air released from my lungs,
Blows it away into the blissful nothingness,
That sits in front of us all,
What remains is not memory,
Nor is it emotions,
They are questions,
That only fuel the fire lit between,
My breaths and dreams.
May 23, 2019
May 23, 2019 at 9:22 PM UTC
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
Nov 22, 2018
Nov 22, 2018 at 6:07 PM UTC
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
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 6:18 PM UTC
on
his
beard
your picture
paints it clear
that one
had
to
be
smeared
what is this you cry man tears
?
...
..
.
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 9:23 AM UTC
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 hell-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 naked 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”
Jul 31, 2017
Jul 31, 2017 at 12:09 PM UTC
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.
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 3:13 AM UTC
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.
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 12:56 AM UTC
***IF YOU READ NONE OF MY OTHER
POETRY, PLEASE READ THIS!***
Knock, knock - Who's there?
Is anybody home?
The lights are on, but you are gone...
It's silent as a tomb.
Knock, knock - Who's there?
Listen to the sound!
He waits for you! You know it's true!
But you are not around...
When Jesus is a'knocking
At your heart's fast door,
You appear to close your ears...
Do YOU know WHAT'S IN STORE?
We DON'T all go to heaven...
YES! There is a hell!
You will find that you are blind
Believin' a tall tale!
*I am a "good" person!
I'm helpful, and I give!
It's okay to be this way!
I live and let live...*.
NO! Jesus lead the sinless life
And gave it up for YOU!
Let Him in, He'll take your sin,
For He is kind and true!
There are NONE "good" people!
Folks! We're near the END!
Satan promotes his lies and gloats,
You'd best believe it, friend.
We ALL sin, and like as not
God CAN hold a grudge!
I don't know why we try and try
To say He doesn't *judge!
This means YOU TOO, Believers!*
You'd best have a care...
Be ye pure, or you'll endure
The same fate sinners share!
This is simply Bible.
God, the temple left!
Ezekiel. You know full well.
It was then BEREFT!!!
CHRISTIANS! Are you holy?
Have you sinned enuf?
He is God - He's not a CLOD!
He don't put up with GUFF!!!
Do I sound like I'm frightened?
You BET! I am afraid.
There is grace, but it's a *race!
I may NOT make the grade!*
We CAN blame the devil,
And that is just a shame...
He tempts us all, but please recall
REBUKE! In JESUS NAME!
**Adam blamed the WOMAN.
Eve... she blamed the SNAKE...
Holy SMOKES! C'mon folks!
HOW MUCH CAN GOD TAKE???!!!**
Knock, knock - Who's there?
Christ died that we may LIVE!
Open up and *drink the cup!
Then He can FORGIVE!*
If you don't, please hear me.
You'll believe a LIE.
You may well end up in hell...
**So kiss your soul GOODBYE.**
SoulSurvivor
(C) 6/12/2014
This poem is a spoken-word vidio
on YouTube...
https://youtu.be/PbD84Tuydxw
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 3:16 PM UTC
*Stress keeps me in bed
It is as I have said
I'm not getting enough sleep
So I can barly
Stand on my feet
It's too hard
To keep my balance
I easily trip
Over the smallest thing...
I wake up every morning
Feeling very sick
Actually feel like puking
But never do I do it
Since I just skip breakfast...
Stress keeps me in bed
Once in a while
I fall asleep
Getting some of the rest
Which I am missing...
But that nap is only
One hour or two long
then a nightmare
Wakes me up
'Cause nightmares
Are the only thing
Which visits me at night
My ability to dream
I think I've lost...
Stress keeps me in bed
I feel like a caged bird
Whoes wings
Have been broken
But now I'm tired
And I can feel
The next nightmare
Knocking on my door
So I'll stay in bed
Getting some kind of rest
And if I'm lucky then
I'll soon be able to dream
Again...*
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 4:14 AM UTC
I need to know if you're okay.
Please tell me if you are.
I need to know whats going on.
Let me in.
I'm at the door waiting for you to open it.
Just, let me in my love.
I'll always be here.
I'm here waiting for you to let me in the door.
My dear, my love, I'm here.
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 10:42 PM UTC
i
Mi amour', let me taketh thy anguish
Mi amour', let me shake away thy learyness
Mi amour', let me hold all thy miseries
Mi amour', let me set thou flying free.
ii
Mi amour', let me taketh those uncertainties
Mi amour', let me take thy pains for thee
Mi amour', let me taketh all thine vex
Mi amour', I lie down mine life, for thy heart to beat in thy chest.
iii
Mi amour', stomp out those mindful doubts
Mi amour', thou already knoweth, what I am about
Mi amour', I'm gonna always be at thy side
Mi amour', I knoweth baby steps, though I feeleth thy cry.
iv
Mi amour', I'm here inside thy soul
Mi amour', mine completion, mine abode
Mi amour', taketh all of me
Mi amour', I'm thy dream, also thy reality.
v
Mi amour', throw thy distress to the winds
Mi amour', I'm knocking, wilt thou let me in?
Mi amour', I hath not gone away, I'll be here in the morn
Mi amour', mi amour', mi amour', I stand knocking for thee.......
Knocking at thy casa door........
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Elsa Angelica dedication
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 7:48 PM UTC
Sometimes I forget
The abuse.
Sometimes even the
Pain begins to fade.
But then I remember-
Knocking on my door at 9.45
On a Saturday night
Isn't normal
When I haven't seen you in 3 years.
*and the adrenaline rushes
and my heart is hammering
and the fear flows through my veins.
and i turn the TV up
and I pretend I can't hear you
and I cry silently.*
Sometimes I think that I can
Move on.
Sometimes the barrier
Begins to fade.
But then I remember-
Parking outside my school
For a week
Isn't normal
When you don't even know my age.
*and the adrenaline rushes
and my heart is hammering
and the fear rushes through my veins.
and my escape plan is ready
and I won't walk alone
and I try to hide in the crowd.*
Sometimes I think you've
Finally died.
Sometimes the fear
Begins to fade.
But then I remember-
Offering holidays just to me
And not your other daughter
Isn't normal
When we both chose to leave your life.
*and the adrenaline rushes
and my heart is hammering
and the fear rushes through my veins.
and my head is spinning
and I change my number
and I block you.*
Sometimes the PTSD
Is gone.
Sometimes my childhood
Is rescued.
But then I remember-
A 30 mile bike ride
With no food or water
Isn't normal
When you're only 10 years old.
*and the adrenaline rushes
and my heart is hammering
and the fear rushes through my veins.
and the insomnia takes hold
and I can't open my front door
and if you could get in you would.*
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 5:48 PM UTC