Top 500 Poems


 

# Poet Poem User Rating Comment Count
101. Henry Scott Holland poet Death Is Nothing At All by Henry Scott Holland Rookie
Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to the next room.
8.20 98
102. Octavio Paz poet No More Clichés by Octavio Paz
Beautiful face
That like a daisy opens its petals to the sun
7.91 38
103. Muzahidul Reza poet The Animal State (Allegory And Imagery) by Muzahidul Reza Gold Star - 129,431 Points
No earthquake, no thunder, no volcanic eruption
Or even there was no any of natural calamities,
9.35 792
104. Marge Piercy poet Barbie Doll by Marge Piercy
This girlchild was born as usual
and presented dolls that did pee-pee
8.07 34
105. Fabrizio Frosini poet Tenderness by Fabrizio Frosini Gold Star - 158,208 Points
Yearning for tenderness.
The one lost —It's so long -so long
9.51 219
106. Tupac Shakur poet I Cry by Tupac Shakur Rookie
Sometimes when I'm alone
I Cry,
8.85 51
107. John McCrae poet In Flanders Field by John McCrae
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
8.69 44
108. Tupac Shakur poet The Rose That Grew From Concrete by Tupac Shakur Rookie
Did you hear about the rose that grew
from a crack in the concrete?
8.49 45
109. James Henry Leigh Hunt poet Abou Ben Adhem by James Henry Leigh Hunt
Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
8.25 51
110. Spike Milligan poet Have A Nice Day by Spike Milligan
'Help, help, ' said a man. 'I'm drowning.'
'Hang on, ' said a man from the shore.
8.45 24
111. William Carlos Williams poet The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams
so much depends
upon
7.30 32
112. Dorothy Parker poet A Very Short Song by Dorothy Parker
Once, when I was young and true,
Someone left me sad-
7.36 31
113. Leo Marks poet The Life That I Have by Leo Marks
The life that I have
Is all that I have
8.79 49
114. Countee Cullen poet Incident by Countee Cullen
Once riding in old Baltimore,
Heart-filled, head-filled with glee,
7.06 34
115. Judith Viorst poet If I Were In Charge Of The World by Judith Viorst
If I were in charge of the world
I'd cancel oatmeal,
8.20 22
116. John Milton poet On His Blindness by John Milton
When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
6.24 39
117. Ogden Nash poet A Word To Husbands by Ogden Nash
To keep your marriage brimming
With love in the loving cup,
7.33 26
118. Khalil Gibran poet A Lover's Call Xxvii by Khalil Gibran
Where are you, my beloved? Are you in that little
Paradise, watering the flowers who look upon you
7.13 29
119. Christina Georgina Rossetti poet Echo by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Come to me in the silence of the night;
Come in the speaking silence of a dream;
6.70 26
120. Walter de la Mare poet Silver by Walter de la Mare
Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
7.85 37
121. Robert Burns poet A Fond Kiss by Robert Burns
A fond kiss, and then we sever;
A farewell, and then forever!
6.88 29
122. Dylan Thomas poet A Child's Christmas In Wales by Dylan Thomas
One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleep, that I can never remember whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve or whether it snowed for twelve days and twelve nights when I was six.
All the Christmases roll down toward the two-tongued sea, like a cold and headlong moon bundling down the sky that was our street; and they stop at the rim of the ice-edged fish-freezing waves, and I plunge my hands in the snow and bring out whatever I can find. In goes my hand into that wool-white bell-tongued ball of holidays resting at the rim of the carol-singing sea, and out come Mrs. Prothero and the firemen.
6.49 41
123. Robert William Service poet The Cremation Of Sam Mcgee by Robert William Service
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
9.01 31
124. Alfred Lord Tennyson poet Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson
It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
7.09 28
125. Edmund Spenser poet My Love Is Like To Ice by Edmund Spenser
My love is like to ice, and I to fire:
How comes it then that this her cold so great
6.13 44
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