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;
...
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 free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
...
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
...
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.
Lo, now four other act upon the stage,
Childhood and Youth, the Many and Old age:
The first son unto phlegm, grandchild to water,
Unstable, supple, cold and moist's his nature
The second, frolic, claims his pedigree
From blood and air, for hot and moist is he.
The third of fire and choler is compos'd,
Vindicative and quarrelsome dispos'd.
The last of earth and heavy melancholy,
Solid, hating all lightness and all folly.
Childhood was cloth'd in white and green to show
His spring was intermixed with some snow:
Upon his head nature a garland set
Of Primrose, Daisy and the Violet.
Such cold mean flowers the spring puts forth betime,
Before the sun hath thoroughly heat the clime.
His hobby striding did not ride but run,
And in his hand an hour-glass new begun,
In danger every moment of a fall,
And when 't is broke then ends his life and all:
But if he hold till it have run its last,
Then may he live out threescore years or past.
Next Youth came up in gorgeous attire
(As that fond age doth most of all desire),
His suit of crimson and his scarf of green,
His pride in's countenance was quickly seen;
Garland of roses, pinks and gillyflowers
Seemed on's head to grow bedew'd with showers.
His face as fresh as is Aurora fair,
When blushing she first 'gins to light the air.
...
The snail moves like a
Hovercraft, held up by a
Rubber cushion of itself,
Sharing its secret
With the hedgehog. The hedgehog
Shares its secret with no one.
We say, Hedgehog, come out
Of yourself and we will love you.
...
The days drag on, each moment multiplies
Within my wounded heart the pain and sadness
Of an unhappy love and, dark, gives rise.
To sleepless dreams, the haunting dreams of madness
But I do not complain - instead, I weep;
Tears bring me solace, comforted they leave me.
My spirit, captive held by grief, a deep.
And bitter rapture finds in them, believe me.
Pass, life! Come, empty phantom, onward fly.
And in the silent void of darkness vanish.
...
Sometimes
When I find nobody
I talk to a tree
I know, the tree will not answer
...
Living in a circle, with much happening in my life, everyone was on their own, I wasn't getting paid and changing lanes has never been my thing.
Crying out for help while no one understands me, tired of being a human, it should be my last breath, why should I live when the only person who knows my fear is against me.
...
Just can't stop thinking about how you smile, and the gap in between your smile charms me every time. This is not a love poem but a you poem, I just happen to love.
Your comeliness is way ulterior, and your body moves the inner organs every ich of them, not to speak of the feelings we share and the promises we intend to keep.
...
The sea has a lot of nice stones, and I can collect as many as they can be but the one that stole my heart is outside the sea although I'm sinking, drowning to the one under water, giving the wrong person my love.
My emotions are tangled towards materialist person, at night my mind doesn't rest trying to chew over where I'll get money to impress such lady, while the one stolen my heart only wants my affection!
...
I'm just another Romeo
I've seen worse than betrayal
Death arising from love
Jealous once found home in me
...
My days without you are awful, illusions of us having our moments, your voice revisit my mind, not to speak of the emptiness in my soul, or fake smiles I have to put on my face, and I end up in a daydream.
Without you my nights are darker and I can't see through, nights become dreamless and I barely sleep, not to speak of cold bed I must not share with you and future seems to be not possible.
...
Who am I in reality, a young boy that I was 18 years ago? Or just a loser waiting for the world to come to an end?
Last time I was just a boy, full with passion, wanting to be an artist, drawing was my thing and I could tell a lot by just a pencil but now I can't even draw the simplest thing you can think of
...
I never seen much racism in my life
All the news and economy are controlled by whites
They say we shouldn't dwell on apartheid
But our lands were taken by force
...
They gave birth to Christianity in order to rule the world, they came in our turfs and name us blacks than major Africans, while they share our resources among themselves, too sad for our natives who goes to sleep thinking they're not good enough but my nationality was deprived.
Ideologically they're superior in our native land, they inscribed the law which can't bind them, we're being told what we can do and what we can't do, once again our race is ignorant to the extent that there's no hope for the youth, how could I bring my blood on this earthly hell.
...
Black forks endorse white's culture but with less they fall for riches, while they should honour their black nation (unrewarded struggle) and I'm not saying I'm innocent in all of this
We overlook the fact that we're special than any other race, while we're ashamed and not proud of being black
...
Poor as a church mouse
Attentively I pour out my heart
With no incentive, I gave birth to skaz
I'm a pedestrian in my own life
...
What is life? past years people been saying life is unfair and in reality, life is fair, you get what you've worked for only if it suits you, sometimes things just happen.
Life is squeezing the lemon out of lemon and making lemonade. Life is knowing how to transform the impossible into opportunity of creation and breaking the barriers.
...
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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1/27/2026 12:46:40 PM # 1.0.0
