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
...
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 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.
Yes, I still remember
The whole thing in a way;
Edge and exactitude
Depend on the day.
Of all that prodigious scene
There seems scanty loss,
Though mists mainly float and screen
Canal, spire and fosse;
Though commonly I fail to name
That once obvious Hill,
And where we went and whence we came
To be killed, or kill.
Those mists are spiritual
And luminous-obscure,
Evolved of countless circumstance
Of which I am sure;
Of which, at the instance
Of sound, smell, change and stir,
New-old shapes for ever
Intensely recur.
And some are sparkling, laughing, singing,
Young, heroic, mild;
And some incurable, twisted,
Shrieking, dumb, defiled.
...
To and fro, to and fro
In my little boat I go
Sailing far across the sea
All alone, just little me.
And the sea is big and strong
And the journey very long.
To and fro, to and fro
In my little boat I go.
Sea and sky, sea and sky,
...
The start will always come, mediocrely;
Voices in your back will whisper dismay,
Trying to make you feel black, to bring you down.
Every voice will rise, a word to say,
Tallying fails, a ledger of the past,
To make your ambitions dark, to make you doubt at last,
And let you believe in nothing, nought.
But when the éclat comes, the moment of pride,
Friends will gather 'round, a congratulatory tide,
...
Along the silver veins of moonlit streams.
Where gondalas like secrets drift in rhyme.
Venice unfolds her labyrinth of dreams.
Each fleeting kiss and glance become divine.
...
Across the rolling breathing land, where grasses whisper like a choir.
The wind remembers every step of native people in earth and in fire.
Before fencing scarred the plains, before the coming of the Europeans and the iron horse.
The bison ran free and swept across the valleys.
...
You're right, Isadora, in the way the spirit flows,
But words must travel far, from the cold of northern snows.
My Norwegian heart beats quiet, from a fjord of deepest blue,
...
The precious gift I hold so tight,
Will vanish if I keep it mine,
To stay within the sober light,
I must pass down the blessed vine.
...
i seem to have a temper
it slowly leaks out through the cracks that appear past my facade
(they'll catch on soon)
like predicting a failed test paper i know my friends will get sick of me soon
...
A new phrase born of a fervent age,
To map the fury and the rage.
Where policies and words ignite,
A truly deep, divided sight.
...
what if i exhaled my last today,
if i were no more the next hour,
would you think of me,
or wonder like the rest?
...
When the fire has burnt out and the coals grown cold
After the last shout and the last story is told
The book is shut, the tale faded to dreams
Thread of the past cut, a fantasy it seems
...
तेरी खुशबू से तुझको ढूंढता, मदिरालय से मैं गुज़रने वाला;
मैं पीने वाला, मय की गंध से मदिरालय में न जाने वाला।
मदमाता मैं बस तेरी छुअन से, मैं साकी पर मर मिटने वाला;
अधर रसीला, तू मेरी हाला, तेरे होठों से रस मैं पीने वाला ।
...
I am a voice without a throat,
a brush that never quite touches canvas,
yet leaves color where silence used to live.
...
I'll lay me down on a leaf
drift me down stream
my soul of gold
...
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 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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4/30/2026 3:55:04 PM # 1.0.0
