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.
It was one of those
beautiful
English summer nights
when levitating
on the moonshine
of a moonlit world
was your entranced lucky
fate.
The lilac shimmer of silent
lakes.
The whisper of ghost fox
through your heartbeat.
But the toad in the hand
stank real.
Stank through his palpitating
skin.
Stank of fear.
Is the fabled hallucinogenic
touch of toads
just as Macbeth
witnessed
a hypnotising snare
of toxic apparition?
What thrilling doors of perception
...
This wild night, gathering the washing as if it were flowers
animal vines twisting over the line and
slapping my face lightly, soundless merriment
in the gesticulations of shirtsleeves,
I recall out of my joy a night of misery
walking in the dark and the wind over broken earth,
halfmade foundations and unfinished
...
Uphill,
over
slick mossed stones;
under golden skies
and tired bones.
I reach the top,
and stop -
on a log,
above the forest
cast in fog.
...
Have you heard of Donald Trump?
On his own grave he does stump
He felt like a real Hercule
Massacring the kids of SCHOOL*
...
At this nurturing abode.
We cradle tenderness.
I am well again.
I found love.
...
Meeting Van Gogh
Should I die tonight...
The moon shines so full
...
Sun warms my face, a gentle touch.
The road ahead, don't asks for much,
Not with haste, no hurried stride,
Just peace that flows, a steady tide.
...
The sky sighs, a watercolor gray,
And tears begin their slow cascade.
Each drop a whisper, far away,
Of a time that's now a memory made.
...
The clock still ticks, the days fly past,
The fleeting hair leaves brows at last.
Yet nose and ears sprout wild and strange,
As gravity demands its change.
...
Grandad land is a place like heaven
Where one can disappear
Shut out all the daily noises
A place granddad holds so dear
...
In the pleasant evening......
I read the answer
With great attention and reverence,
Slowly it enriches my soul
...
An old Tomcat sits in the yard his fur tinged with gray
His eyes glazed over, blind against threats that come his way
Mousing days have ended, he is no longer of household use
Missing teeth and claws upon which he depended, rats to reduce
...
The festive spirit is running out
Only the wheel of time keeps turning
The shining pearls of memory linger on
...
'Backward Carriage, Early Draft of a Life'
The train shudders
...
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—
...