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.
...
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
...
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.
There was a little comet who lived near the Milky Way!
She loved to wander out at night and jump about and play.
The mother of the comet was a very good old star;
She used to scold her reckless child for venturing out too far.
She told her of the ogre, Sun, who loved on stars to sup,
And who asked no better pastime than in gobbling comets up.
But instead of growing cautious and of showing proper fear,
The foolish little comet edged up nearer, and more near.
She switched her saucy tail along right where the Sun could see,
And flirted with old Mars, and was as bold as bold could be.
She laughed to scorn the quiet stars who never frisked about;
She said there was no fun in life unless you ventured out.
She liked to make the planets stare, and wished no better mirth
Than just to see the telescopes aimed at her from the Earth.
She wondered how so many stars could mope through nights and days,
And let the sickly faced old Moon get all the love and praise.
And as she talked and tossed her head and switched her shining trail
The staid old mother star grew sad, her cheek grew wan and pale.
For she had lived there in the skies a million years or more,
And she had heard gay comets talk in just this way before.
...
In the thin classroom, where your face
was noble and your words were all things,
I find this boily creature in your place;
find you disarranged, squatting on the window sill,
irrefutably placed up there,
like a hunk of some big frog
watching us through the V
of your woolen legs.
...
Just a man trying his best,
Even the man in the mirror he cannot impress.
Still bleeding from the wounds that will never heal,
My body is tired, but my mind never rests.
Surrounded, yet not present,
I close my eyes at night, seeking an ocean
Where bitter waters flow through the agony of my tear ducts.
How can I be a rainbow in somebody else's cloud
...
Away from where my sorrow lies
Beyond the veil where silence sighs
Within the vision thou still at dark
A lump in my throat yet I dare bark
...
Our Flag
Our flag shall never stand in need,
Of every flag it's in the lead,
...
Three years have passed, yet the earth still shakes with memories of fire. A homeland that once flourished in green hope now lies shrouded in the dust of sorrow, its sky weighed down with tears that refuse to fall. A relentless wind named war swept through its veins, devouring fields and futures, leaving behind empty doorways, forgotten names, and a haunting silence where laughter used to echo. From the billowing smoke, a fragile word emerged: victory. But what kind of victory can endure when mothers bury their light and children inherit fear instead of dreams?
In the language of ruin, there are no winners only broken hearts learning to grieve. Listen closely between the sounds of gunfire, and you'll hear the soft rise of questions: How long will pain linger? How long will hope wait at the edge of tomorrow? Across dusty roads, through quiet villages, and within cities that no longer find rest, a heavy silence is carried by weary souls. Hunger whispers in empty homes, fear walks alongside every step, and exile etches its name into the wind.
...
The claws of midnight
are here again,
and once more, I am the prey.
Oh, the mighty night
...
The Dragon breathes, a whispered fire,
No name is said, yet burns much higher.
'A nation holds, with iron grip,
And crushes those who rise too quick.'
...
First Day of the Bengali New Year—
traditions, or their metamorphosis:
temple visits with new account books
draped in red,
...
It was midnight.
Everyone were fallen sleep.
Only one man standing.
Eating his head brains.
...
Strap me around your legs
Strap me around your waist
Adhere to what lengths
Give time for the chase
...
April '26, the news it flies,
A worried hum beneath the skies.
The International Desk reports,
Of shadowed fears and rising cohorts.
...
You cannot save an AI's life
With poetry
For AI knows no struggle
No privilege, nor hindsight
...
The clang of weapons almost deafens the ears
Why does such strife and division exist?
And after that?
The answer is not known
...
By: Roland Thirdthe Pacheco
It all started when I met her in the library,
She was reading a book that seemed to be about history.
...
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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4/16/2026 12:38:47 AM # 1.0.0
