Gateways Poems | Examples

My house is a living organism, with wooden veins and brick hearts that breathe stories

My house is a living organism, with wooden veins and brick hearts that breathe stories,
The cracks in the walls are lifelines, maps of hidden worlds,
The white ceiling is my inner sky, where clouds of thoughts float in silence,
The white paint is a canvas where memories dance in unseen colors,
The dust in the corner is the sand of time, gently settling over moments past,
Wooden doors are gateways to parallel universes, where past and present intertwine,
When I am alone, the house sings me a cosmic lullaby, a symphony of silence,
And my wounds are embraced by the walls that have seen all seasons of my soul,
At dusk, shadows dance like ancient spirits, holding forgotten light in their palms,
The walls gather around me, like an embrace of eternity,
And they tell of buried laughter and tears dried by time,
In this shelter, more than walls, there is a heart that pulses with the beats of my life,
Now, in this living sanctuary, I find an ancestral peace,
My house is a universe in miniature, a poem with walls and windows,
Every crack and sound become words in an unseen journal,
And I, a traveler among dreams and memories, find my roots here, in the depths of my being.

light and words

Light

may appear as a

tunnel with an end

bathed in

Light



Words

are already empty

as they arise

with no speaker

yet the speaker

may arise

appearing to

speak those

Words



gateways

may invite 

solving a mystery

lying behind a

now closed gate

perhaps a

beautiful and

futile attraction



NDE

(near death experience)

often a dark tunnel 

ending in light and

inviting the discovery

of the tunnel

as an appearance of

light

A Dream Within A Dream

Tis, but, a forged adventure 

Lost in the cataclysic mind

For the ticking of the clock

Plucked of a memory 

Becomes present time

I wander distant gateways

Purple hues adorn

A dream within a dream

Where solitude is born

I call of flickering fire

A spark of endless warmth

To recall an exquisite moment

To repair a spirit torn

Masters of reality

Their crossing the border by thousands
Another story they sell

Better get ready for ww3, fear,confusion 
The sound of their bell

It's been that way for as long as I can tell
Running out of ideas and lies that they sell

Story never changed its now wearing thin
Love your brothers and sisters
Let the new age begin

Immigration,inflation world wars too
Running out of stories, lies that they sell

Don't play the game, goodnight farewell

You hold the universe inside your soul
Your thoughts germinate
A new reality

Your brothers and sisters shine as bright as you
All the colours of humanity
Disabilities too

Love your brothers and sisters let the new age begin
Don't harness their lies
Gateways to sin

You are the master of your soul let your love light shine
Spread love and care
Let positive  energy flow.

Wind Talk

("Windhorse", 2023, original encaustic)

Wind Talk

Children talk to the wind
A skill, a talent, a desire
Most adults have lost
And forgotten they ever had.

Anyone can talk, but
Maybe what’s really lost
Is the aptitude to hear
Wind’s reply.

The wind talks
And children listen
The children talk in turn
And wind replies.

This is the natural order of things
The natural give and take
Call and response
Of what it means to be alive.

Children don’t know a lot of things
But they certainly know
What it means to be alive
And aren’t shy letting us know.

Adults like to complicate
The whole equation
Putting barriers between
What is and isn’t.

While a child in utter simplicity
Walks through such barriers
As easily as ghosts
Through walls.

Until eventually something happens
And the corpus collosum seals shut
With its gateways strictly guarded
By the voice of reason.

If you live long enough
That voice gets hoarse and tired
And eventually in its own turn
Relaxes the controls.

This after all is the natural order of things
The ebb and flow of Life in all its forms.
How do I know?
The wind just told me.

(3/24/24)

DIVORCE

Deliver onto me the strength to carry on my Lord and don't let me fail 

I love my family and I don't want to see them suffer on account of me 

Veer me towards truth and honesty, allow me to be part of a greater plan 

Only you Father have the ability to heal my soul and ease my heart, so please  

Remind me every day to do my very best for it is only in the letting go that 

Closure can finally bring the peace I so much need.  I am like a wounded     

Eagle flying towards gateways of a stranger's land so please, help me cope.

Knock

Knock softly, when a child's dreams unfold, 
A lullaby of hope, a future yet untold. 
Nurturing their innocence, with love, protect, 
For in their tiny hearts, the world's hopes reflect.

Knock gently, with love, upon a friend's abode, 
A sign of care, a bond that's forever sewed. 
In times of need, in times of joy or strife, 
A knock can mend the pieces of a fractured life.

Knock loudly, when injustice must be faced, 
A rallying cry, a call for truth to be embraced. 
In unity, we stand, against the storm's dark tide, 
With knocking fists, our strength cannot be denied.

Knock, oh seeker, on the door of your dreams, 
Where reality and hopes converge in silent streams. 
The echo of your presence, like a whispered plea, 
Unlocks the gateways to what might yet be.

With each knock, a question, an open door's embrace,
 A chance to find your purpose, your destined place. 
Knock, and see what wonders lie in store, 
For every knock, a new adventure to explore.

Zen Mode

holes in form at vortexes are now visible
energy gateways connecting with aether
each portal syncs to a specific frequency
yet communicating as a collective whole

we have no favourites although we notice
toroidal heart and fontanel lead the pack
of course the vertical grid that loops form
may amplify as of need any energy centre

continuous trickle of sublime soma nectar
an ever delighting seductive tease divine
whilst the potent hum of bliss magnetism 
embodies within us essence of living light

Ethereal

"Thirsty and parch earth, opens its gateways to cool rain, bringing utter silence awe and relief as the rain leaves behind a radiant arch of colors." Quote by poet

A breeze swirls a pleasant morning insane
scent announces incessant oncoming .
lovingkindness of ethereal rain,
rinse out and cool the parched earth stress being.

Utter silence sun stairway did bestow,
spring idyllic day of earth rhythmic dance.
A garden's heart breathing anew rainbow.
God's faithful vow of soulful dalliance.

Some Soldier

Torpid fields of woe
A voice drones like an endless day
What have you come here to mourn ?
Unwrap your plans
Swirl like mirth
Between sunsets and Waterfalls
journeying headstrong
through gateways swirl 
as your pulse surges
To touch the earth
feel the birth
of an untouched mile

Europe

The collectors' job is to get the drugs out of the container
and away from the docks,from where they will be transported
to Amsterdam, Germany, Poland, Holand, Lithuania, Latvia,
Estonia, Finland and other parts of Europe.Over 150 tons of
illegal drugs were seized by French authorities in 2022 and
with it comes unprecedented drug violence in Belgium and
the Netherlands,whose ports of Antwerp and Rotterdam,
respectively,have become the main gateways for Latin American
cocaine cartels into the continent.In Belgium,the justice minister
is forced to live in a safehouse,out of reach of drug gangs.
Note.Drug Lords are powerful, strong, and dangerous.

Simply Poetry

Good words are instruments of exaltation,
like fine lyrics in poetry that give birth to a great song;
For, graciousness inspires great creation,  
like good words that make a spirit strong. 

Let your good words echo through eternity. 
Make your poetry be a lasting inspiration. 
For, in this world gripped by claws of monstrosity, 
heartening words are gateways to salvation. 

Make your poetry echo to the stars,
and shine the light of peace and harmony; 
Let it help mend the deepening scars 
that halt the course of prosperity. 

April 6, 2023

Simply Poetry 2 Poetry Contest 
Sponsored By: John Lawless

Smphony of Words

The eyes appeared icy and confusing
the warm ocean lies beyond sight
words with wings arising out of waves
they soar into my heart slowly
under a lot of dead hope, they find one alive
and teach it how to fly.

A poet is serenaded by a seductive muse
join me on a waltz to an illicit verse
my lyrics express my passion
awakened me without trying
gives me hedonistic poetry
swing again as I am your muse.

All my words
individualize uncastrated psyche
this search revealed several doors
yet, nothing happens
simple gateways to other realms
overwhelmed and afraid
the head was in a cryogenic jar
where is my brain?
has the robot traveled asunder?

I am spellbound by words
that deep, black tone
tumbles with shards of fading light
nighttime adventure
the bow holds it together
curse of insatiability
the silks are shredded
to fulfill their cravings.


Written: October 29, 2022

A Storm of Tears

What is it like to cry?
All those blockades of mind made stone,
A river of emotions held beyond,
Making its own gateways through it all,
To come finally flowing out.
Down soft material,
Dropping to the ground, 
Flooding everything around.

To cry is to let absolutely everything out,
All that you were trying to keep in,
Having no more strength,
And just breaking down.
People don't like to cry,
It makes them feel weak as if the tears,
Salty and damp,
Exposed them to all eyes that saw.

I think, however, its good to cry,
Even if it dries you out,
All those ghosts get set free,
And you feel relieved.
As if suddenly you're no longer carrying the world,
And just carrying your thoughts.

You need to cry,
Because when you let it all go,
Its like a wave of strength to your soul,
And then you feel free.
To find help, 
To find hope,
To get better,
To climb from that deep hole,
And climb higher into the sky.
For they say, after a storm, 
Comes clear sky,
And if you're lucky,
A rainbow will light up for you,
To smile down on you.
Guide you forth from the past,
Make way for the future,
Where no darkness is allowed.

Flight of the Wedgetail

And where to go now ?.
The wall that has kept back
silence is beginning to dissolve
and already that vast ocean
of nothingness is slowly seeping
into what holds you together.

You could always wander back
to those alleyways
where bond stores wafted
musty smells up through grates
that you walked past
on your way to school,
or find a seat there
in the acrid air of St Mary's
as incense carried hymns
up to the slaughter houses
of the Lord. All nothing more,
now, than exhibits
in a museum of what each sense
has put away to adorn
some theme or narrative.

And then there is here,
whose borders blur
and morph into gateways,
all promising a view.
Take one to somewhere.
The fiery sunset giving
praise to the glory
of a star, the rapture of oceans,
and the flight of a wedgetail
riding high over a world
waiting like a lover.

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