Poems
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
...
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
...
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
...
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
...
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
...
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
...
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
...
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
...
The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set -
...
Writing a poem is not about bringing some words together to create some charming sentences. It's so much deeper than that. Writing poetry is a bridge that allows people to express their feelings and make others live every single word they read. Poetry is to educate people, to lead them away from hate to love, from violence to mercy and pity. Writing poetry is to help this community better understand life and live it more passionately. PoemHunter.com contains an enormous number of famous poems from all over the world, by both classical and modern poets. You can read as many as you want, and also submit your own poems to share your writings with all our poets, members, and visitors.
How beautiful at eventide
To see the twilight shadows pale,
Steal o'er the landscape, far and wide,
O'er stream and meadow, mound and dale!
How soft is Nature's calm repose
When ev'ning skies their cool dews weep:
The gentlest wind more gently blows,
As if to soothe her in her sleep!
The gay morn breaks,
Mists roll away,
All Nature awakes
To glorious day.
In my breast alone
Dark shadows remain;
The peace it has known
It can never regain.
...
Of asphodel, that greeny flower,
like a buttercup
upon its branching stem-
save that it's green and wooden-
I come, my sweet,
to sing to you.
We lived long together
a life filled,
if you will,
with flowers. So that
...
The girl with a guitar sings on the streets,
She's not begging for money,
From the strangers she meets,
She smiles as she sings, with her cute voice,
As she sings those songs of her choice.
Passerby's throng her, with a bewildered gaze!
What people can do to entertain and amaze!
She could sung at her home! Why on the streets?
For a live cheap show without any tickets!
But hear! She is not singing her song!
...
When you're gone
i harp on a broken lyre,
and splutter lying down here
to add a mournful song
...
When a weird sensation feels every cell,
and the heart, all of a sudden, doubles the act
and vehemently stimulates the mind to react
to something- though intangible but significant
...
As hardships none, out they their steps wrought
like some belated monsoon in the fields of corn
to her a small drizzle suddenly he brought
and in her arid heart a jouissance was born
...
I saw three kittens in the backyard,
Two black and one white,
But hearts united,
Engaged in playful wrestling,
...
Dear fellows, allow me to interest you in a letter. If you please, I may begin right away. However, shall I begin the note with greetings? perhaps humour is better! Be it a vintage quote, or a poem? Let it be hamlet's virtue, or else his mother's assumption, I imagine. It can either be the wisdom of an old bird, but the whistle of a man has rhythm. Whereas a song of a guitar has beauty in it. On the other hand the tone of a singer is also enriched with good. Oh, poor me, how shall I ever reach a decision while possessing this pile of choices. Reaching a decision while walking through this list is no less than wandering amidst the forest of woods. Shall I take the road less traveled by, I wonder? Else, I assume I can look for flaws in the variety, and that one option with none or lesser flaws shall be my very choice to begin the note, similar to the tree which appears the most green among all. Pardon me dear fellows, for still lacking the perfect idea to write my notation. Although, I realize that perfection should not be my lens yet I am looking through it. And, as I look more carefully here and now, I am starting to observe the pattern of what I call ‘the end'. How beautiful is the notion that the letter begins with what is an end in itself. Is not it artistic, dear? Well, I believe it is the perfect idea. And it occurs to me, hereby, that I must start writing without wasting much of time. Hence dear fellows, allow me to interest you in a letter. If you please, I may begin right away.
• Mir Urooj
...
Sex like having to pee, begins down between the legs you see
A building of pressure, a nagging surge to purge
At first denied, but growing stronger the longer it is neglected inside
In anticipation you prance do a little dance, as one unbuttons their pants
...
Today I looked at a face and was confused, the face looked very familiar to me but I could not place it. As I gazed into the eyes I was suddenly drawn in by their softness and understanding and by the passion for life they held within.
I noticed a hint of a smile on the lips as the other gazed back at me, the kind of smile one gives to a child to reflect understanding and love. The cheeks and forehead were creased with lines to indicate a hard life's journey but also the knowledge and wisdom it gained from the long roads traveled.
As I reached to touch the face I noticed it reaching for me as well, I realized this and suddenly drew back my hand. As I did so I must have startled the other as it drew back its hand as well. I opened my mouth to apologize and at the same time the other must have been thinking the same, we then cocked our heads and looked at one another with bewilderment and surprise as to our seemingly timed movements, not understanding the reason for this but knowing there was a connection between us that was far beyond our comprehension.
...
I smell the essence of your being
on the warm summer air
as the wind tickles my face
like small strands of your hair.
...
Hurry and get it over with
Don't make me wait
Please let me know now
Reveal to me my fate
...
You're my sweet
You're are my heart
I'm the artist
You're a work of art
...
Lo, truth did creep upon thee unawares,
Not borne by fate, nor carried by the stars,
But by that quiet law which none escapes—
That truth, though buried, claws through every scar.
...
My tears are like
the mists that fall
from early spring tulips.
...
I dwell
In the absence
You left behind
...
If you die before me
I would jump down into your grave
and hug you so innocently
that angels will become jealous.
...
Beautiful is the 'thank you'
Wrapped with gratitude,
Offered to peace prone people
Who offer what is real-themselves
...
Indoors by technology, outdoors by speedy transport
I travel the world
Today in Japan, tomorrow in Rome,
Next day by an ancient civilization or in Hawaii or Coast Ivory,
...
The low lands call
I am tempted to answer
They are offering me a free dwelling
Without having to conquer
...
The Peace Warrior Of Mzansi, among heroes - a colossus!
Sun Of The Nation; a rare gift of Providence.
Once, entangled in the web of racist succubus;
Unruffled he declares before High Justice:
...
(This is a composition in Pilipino Language the first one I did, the only one, and hope some of the Filipinos will get this funny poem in this site. The poem is updated with English translation)
Noong taong otsenta dekada
...
Love and lust are poles apart.
Lust is chaos, love is art.
...
Rappelle-toi Barbara
Il pleuvait sans cesse sur Brest ce jour-là
Et tu marchais souriante
Épanouie ravie ruisselante
...
you put this pen
in my hand and you
take the pen from you put this pen
...
On this dry prepared path walk heavy feet.
This is not "dinner music." This is a power structure.
...
"Come, pretty birds, present your lays,
And learn to chaunt a goddess praise;
Ye wood-nymphs, let your voices be
Employ'd to serve her deity:
...
If you had the choice of two women to wed,
(Though of course the idea is quite absurd)
And the first from her heels to her dainty head
Was charming in every sense of the word:
...
A little while, a little while,
The weary task is put away,
And I can sing and I can smile,
Alike, while I have holiday.
...
Between us now and here -
Two thrown together
Who are not wont to wear
Life's flushest feather -
...
185
"Faith" is a fine invention
When Gentlemen can see—
...
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12/6/2025 8:59:10 AM # 1.0.0
