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
...
The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set -
...
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.
...
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.
Exposed on the cliffs of the heart. Look, how tiny down there,
look: the last village of words and, higher,
(but how tiny) still one last
farmhouse of feeling. Can you see it?
Exposed on the cliffs of the heart. Stoneground
under your hands. Even here, though,
something can bloom; on a silent cliff-edge
an unknowing plant blooms, singing, into the air.
But the one who knows? Ah, he began to know
and is quiet now, exposed on the cliffs of the heart.
While, with their full awareness,
many sure-footed mountain animals pass
or linger. And the great sheltered birds flies, slowly
circling, around the peak's pure denial. - But
without a shelter, here on the cliffs of the heart...
...
Speak earth and bless me with what is richest
make sky flow honey out of my hips
rigis mountains
spread over a valley
carved out by the mouth of rain.
And I knew when I entered her I was
high wind in her forests hollow
fingers whispering sound
honey flowed
...
In the depths of darkness, where shadows roam,
We search for answers, and a place to call home,
Lost in the moments, that slip away,
We yearn for connection, come what may.
The journey's long, with twists and turns,
We navigate through, life's uncertain concerns,
But in the silence, we hear a voice,
Guiding us forward, with a gentle choice.
...
A Good Compliment
Your thoughts run deep, like ocean's floor,
A sunrise glow, you can't ignore.
...
The old bull looked, his eyes so wide,
At grass so green, on other side.
A fence of stone, too tall to leap,
He paced and pawed, his secrets keep.
...
در مجمــــــــر عشق تــو جهیدن نگذارند
چــــون اشک بســــوی تو دویدن نگذارند
یعنـــی ز خـــدای هــــــم طلبـیدن نگذارند
مـــــــا را ز گلــــی روی تو چیدن نگذارند
...
The night steps back, the darkness fades,
The stars bow down, the moon cascades,
A breath of gold breaks through the hill,
The world wakes up, so soft, so still.
...
Oh, how I yearn to finally be loved, To be cherished gently, not merely dreamed of.
To be asked about my day, To know someone truly wants me to stay.
...
No master calls, no bottle binds,
A quiet freedom fills my mind.
The heavy bags I used to haul,
Now dropped, I stand up strong and tall.
...
The crescent veils its face
Behind the fugitive drift of clouds—
As if eternity itself, in the storm's fierce eye,
Had paused for one suspended breath,
...
Allah is not like a man in the sky.
Nor is He a set of mere beliefs, doctrines, or ancient tales to be blindly accepted or rejected.
Has there not come upon man a period of time when he was not a thing worth mentioning? Indeed, We created man from a drop of mixed fluids to test him; so We made him hearing and seeing. Indeed, We guided him to the way, whether he be grateful or ungrateful.
...
Whenever I turn my gaze
toward the core of my own being,
toward that sacred sanctuary within—
every atom of my existence
...
I see life in black and white,
not because I cannot see the grey,
but because the grey asks me to bend
where my heart refuses.
...
How can there be myself and the Real Self?
How can the finite stand apart from the Infinite?
If such division seems to be,
it is born of ignorance alone.
...
In the twilight of evening, upon the shore's path
I walk, toward the Ocean of Dreams,
Where the moon, hidden, draws the tides—
The silent breath of all existence, carrying me
...
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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6/19/2026 12:55:10 AM # 1.0.0
