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.
...
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
...
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;
...
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.
...
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.
If I had only loved your flesh
And careless damned your soul to Hell,
I might have laughed and loved afresh,
And loved as lightly and as well,
And little more to tell.
But since to clasp your soul I strove,
(That mountebank, that fugitive)
Anrl poured the river of my love
Through meshes that, like Danae's sieve,
Drained all I had to give,
Now nightly by the tamarisks
I pace, and watch the risen moon
Litter the sea with silver disks;
And pray of night one only boon:
Let my release be soon.
...
Say not of beauty she is good,
Or aught but beautiful,
Or sleek to doves' wings of the wood
Her wild wings of a gull.
Call her not wicked; that word's touch
Consumes her like a curse;
But love her not too much, too much,
For that is even worse.
...
Ruinous certainty,
now stumbling
down and out
on midnight
...
Last eye before sleep;
giant shadow on the wall
due to mom's lantern.
...
A free bird
perches upon the branch
of a green and living tree,
and in a melodious tune
...
How much more
can I say
when the light shifts hard
in the passing day?
...
A pomegranate bleeds its rusted past:
History does not fade in silence;
It simply hides inside its scars.
...
I remember the day Pain came home
sat in the cushion chair,
looked me in the eye and said,
"I am here."
...
Land of heather and where mountains meet the sea.
The wind blows the hawthorn trees, as they hang over old graveyard stones names weathered by moss and lichen.
Poets have written of your beauty and the struggles of the past.
A curlew sings as twilight comes and the light fades. Out comes the fiddle, as the stormy sea brings the lashing relentless beating rain against the window panes.
...
The sun lingered softly on the edge of the day,
while golden light danced where we used to stay.
Your laughter was warm as the August breeze,
and time slowed down beneath the trees.
...
I first saw the Truth
when I became innocent
as a child.
...
I first beheld the Unborn
when I returned to that pure stillness
before the world was divided by names—
in the guileless gaze of the child
...
If the sun drew near,
all would flare and burn—
yet every green tree keeps its vigil,
waits its turn,
...
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.
...
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
...
Beautiful is the 'thank you'
Wrapped with gratitude,
Offered to peace prone people
Who offer what is real-themselves
...
The Peace Warrior of Mzansi — among heroes, a colossus!
Sun of the Nation, a rare gift of Providence.
Once entangled in the web of a 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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8/23/2026 8:03:03 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
