Anonymous


Anonymous Poems

41. The Braes O'Yarrow 1/3/2003
42. O Burr 1/4/2003
43. Midnight Special 1/3/2003
44. The Dowie Houms Of Yarrow 1/4/2003
45. The Twelve Days Of Christmas 12/15/2014
46. The Bonnie House O' Airlie 1/4/2003
47. Hey Nonny No! 1/4/2003
48. Courage 1/3/2015
49. Riddle 1/3/2003
50. Helen Of Kirconnell 1/4/2003
51. The Queen's Marie 1/4/2003
52. Lusty May 1/4/2003
53. Madrigal, Davison's Poetical Rhapsody 1/4/2003
54. Old English Riddle 1/20/2003
55. The Nut-Brown Maid 1/4/2003
56. The Bells Of Hell 1/3/2003
57. Twa Corbies 1/3/2003
58. Key To Friendship 12/10/2014
59. Spring-Tide 1/4/2003
60. The Lass Of Lochroyan 1/4/2003
61. The Lover In Winter Plaineth For The Spring 1/3/2003
62. Preparations 1/4/2003
63. Soldiers Who Wish To Be A Hero 1/3/2003
64. Pipe And Can 1/4/2003
65. She'Ll Be Comin' Round The Mountain 1/3/2003
66. To A Nun 1/3/2003
67. I Have A Gentil Cock 1/3/2003
68. London Bells 1/3/2003
69. My Love In Her Attire 1/3/2003
70. My Heart Is High Above 1/4/2003
71. The Wakening, John Attye's First Book Of Airs 1/4/2003
72. Binnorie 1/4/2003
73. Balow 1/4/2003
74. This World's Joy 1/4/2003
75. Icarus, Robert Jones's Second Book Of Songs And Airs 1/4/2003
76. Carol 1/4/2003
77. The Forsaken Bride 1/3/2003
78. The Seven Virgins 1/4/2003
79. The Old Cloak 1/4/2003
80. Edom O'Gordon 1/3/2003

Comments about Anonymous

  • Your love. (4/13/2018 10:52:00 PM)

    I love you, And, every bit of me hurts.

    2 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Henry (4/10/2018 4:17:00 PM)

    hi everyone i just made a poem! !

  • 12 Months (3/8/2018 9:29:00 PM)

    Remember me?
    The girl you come to when you’re in need.
    The girl who’s always waiting at the corner until someone approaches me.
    The girl who’s ready to answer with a “yes” when someone asks.
    The girl who’s ready to sacrifice her time just for the sake of one.
    The girl who will do anything when one asks without a single plead.
    The real question is, will you remember that girl when you’re done?

  • l o v e l y (3/7/2018 2:10:00 PM)

    you broke me like a child breaks a plate. you apologized but did not have the decency to sweep me up.

  • M A Brooks (2/19/2018 11:07:00 PM)

    In 1958, a man named Arthur W. Reason came to our school in St. Louis, MO and read a poem that he wrote to my class, entitled, Mr. Nobody. All I remember is there was a man upon the stair, a little man who wasn't there. It had a similar premise as the poem listed here by Anonymous.

  • marusia (1/4/2018 11:05:00 AM)

    Good that I don’t have a gun
    Otherwise it will shoot
    In my head, boom and I’m gone.
    Good there is no gun
    It would not lay down
    Boom, completed cruel plan.
    Maybe I should get one?
    A tiny little gun?
    Good, to have a gun
    With shaking hands, I raise it up
    Sorry for the things I left undone.

  • mr cc of m (12/26/2017 7:43:00 PM)

    The day after.

    The day after what would I see?



    Dad having a reality check?

    mums head a total wreck?



    partner totally lost without a clue?

    Brother cannot understand that he now is one and not two?



    friends gathered around

    To never hear again my unique sound?



    My cat sat on my empty chair

    Myself in a pit of despair



    Why did I have to go there?

  • euphoria (11/22/2017 10:28:00 AM)

    earth has a pulse
    a heartbeat rhythmic
    coursing through streams
    gentle, playful, intense,
    invigorating, daunting
    sail out into the
    great ocean and
    with arms outstretched
    reach for the heavens
    palms an invitation, yearning,
    pleading, finally grasping
    feel the expanse seep into
    the soul - a glass bowl
    empty of all else -
    feel the soul dive into
    the seas, soar into the
    skies -
    and find the heartbeat of the earth

  • Anonymous Raider (8/7/2015 5:18:00 PM)

    [THE ART OF STORYTELLING]

    I hadn't been exposed to drugs, didn't have a clue what being high was and little did I know shortly after I would fall madly in love.

    I remember like it was yesterday, the day I met my supplier. Made it seem like we were friends, but he was just a really good liar.

    My first year in college I heard about a really big shindig. I didn't have many friends, so I attended.

    Everyone there seemed to be having a blast. I tried to talk to some people but they would just walk off and laugh. Trying so hard to fit in but no one paid me attention. I just sat by myself depressed and full of tension.

    Then this dude came over and asked: What up son? Rule number one at any party is that you gotta have fun. I got the right thing for ya. Its a definite creeper. It goes by the name of marijuana but many call it reefer.

    Oh yeah? I think I like the sound of that.

    That's right, I know what attracts. I'll get you started with a dime bag,1/8th sack or q pack. And just so you feel secure, I got another one you can pour. Courage in a bottle, that'll have you goin' full throttle. This one will hit you quicker and it goes by the name liquor.

    I woke up the next day smiling about the previous night. There was a fine girl in my bed and don't remember getting into any sort of fights. Must have been the alcohol, cuz I know I had a ball. Taught me to be sociable and how to stand tall. And best believe the weed had my body sedated, mind stimulated and left me completely elated.

    I built a rapport with my supplier over the next few weeks. I was smoking and drinking a lot so they started to become weak. One day I asked him if he had something new this time. He offered a white powder that he fashioned into a set of lines.

    On your mark, get set, go. Let me introduce you to blow. One sniff of this and you'll feel like you're ruler of the globe.

    Boy was he right, I felt fantastic. As soon as it hit me, my brain was doing gymnastics.
    I cared less about studies letting them fall by the wayside. Instead my dealer became my professor, something more like a life guide.

    It seemed like from that point on I was off to the races. Couldn't recall the names of the people I did drugs with and barely remembered their faces. We dropped acid, popped pills, and snorted so much coke. Then one day my dealer came by and showed me how to smoke crack and shoot dope.

    These little rocks are like a high price whore. She'll do you so good, you'll be begging for more. Smoke them the same way you might toke on some grass. Spark them up with fire in a piece made of glass. And the heroin can be used just like the cocaine; through the nasal membranes. Or as most people prefer, injected directly into their veins.

    From that point on, my mind was gone. I looked a wreck and couldn't keep my life in check. The only thing for which I gave a shit, was finding where I planned to get the next hit. There was no way I'd end the habit, even though I wanted so badly to quit.

    I had dropped out of school and started acting a fool. Pawned everything I possessed in order to score and in the process ended up homeless and poor. I was too blind to see that so many people cared for me. Damn, I must've drove my family and friends crazy not knowing what I was doing or where I might be.

    Finding myself in an abandoned building, I wondered why life was worth living. Searching the floor for more like it was a chore, I came across the body of another soulless nobody. Next to her sat a bag, some syringes and dirty needles. At this point I don't think I have to tell you what that mixture equals. I quickly found a usable spot to stick amongst a thousand track marks. Once the substance hit my bloodstream, my vision started to get dark.

    Now came the time for me to die and make my way to the other side. Getting wise in my very last moments alive, I realized: What a low life I had become and all the damage that was done. Knowing I did it all to fit in and have fun.

    With that last gasp of breath, I closed my eyes and welcomed death. When I opened them I found that I was back at the party sitting by myself. I was oblivious to what had occurred and what I had endured. So when the same guy came over to offer me smoke and drink, I didn't really know what to think.

    So, knowing with this decision you had everything to lose, which one would you propose I choose? Would you feel behooved to use like you had something to prove? Or elect to reject what others expect?

  • dustin foster (2/7/2015 9:09:00 AM)

    The prison cell In your mind you sit Your mind consumed by the darkness that creeps at the bottom. You want the normal things In life love,sex,overall blinding happiness. Put you can only see it through the bars rusty cold grimy steel bars.. I sit in my prison cell tears in hands Hands on eyes cowarding in the corner wishing i could be on the other side join society blindly prancing about. Instead im stuck in a hell a prison cell that i caused out of my own bad habbits as a child still a child..sensitive but strong But stubborn Now in my cell i see the cloud of darkness is stretched around my cell an those of my common felons Who lead an everyday life who have depleted an turned into monsters. For some reason i feel an bearing to serve them justice to atone for my own sins or sins i want to commit. But i am not worthy enough for that honor.because that would make me a hypocrite.a felon of my own sins yes but a hypocrite no.honor as a felon is all i have goin for me but it also destroys me if i lose my honor i might as well be shived In my prison cell...

Best Poem of Anonymous

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

To every thing there is a season,
and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to ...

Read the full of Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Tam Lin

O I forbid you, maidens a',
That wear gowd on your hair,
To come or gae by Carterhaugh,
For young Tam Lin is there.

There's nane that gaes by Carterhaugh
But they leave him a wad,
Either their rings, or green mantles,
Or else their maidenhead.

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