Some doors are made of wood,
and some of fear.
Inside, you hear
the knocking, wonder: Should
I open up to what I cannot see?
Outside, you knock,
don't try the lock,
think: What, who, might greet me?
i like this door poem....of how we use doors to lock ourselves in....or lock things out......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In one short poem you have delt with those on the inside and those on the outside. It took Allen Ginsberg much longer in 1955 with his poem HOWL. If you would like to take a look at two of my short spoken word poems: Google RedwoodWriters.org..Then click on Announcements. Then click on my picture with a tan baseball cap. It's a youtube clip from Cafee Greco North Beach December 7th 2009.. I'll feature there Jan 11th. Stop by if you're in The City.