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;
...
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.
...
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.
translated by Will Kirkland
The moon came into the forge
in her bustle of flowering nard.
The little boy stares at her, stares.
The boy is staring hard.
In the shaken air
the moon moves her amrs,
and shows lubricious and pure,
her breasts of hard tin.
"Moon, moon, moon, run!
If the gypsies come,
they will use your heart
to make white necklaces and rings."
"Let me dance, my little one.
When the gypsies come,
they'll find you on the anvil
with your lively eyes closed tight.
"Moon, moon, moon, run!
I can feelheir horses come."
"Let me be, my little one,
don't step on me, all starched and white!"
Closer comes the the horseman,
drumming on the plain.
The boy is in the forge;
his eyes are closed.
Through the olive grove
come the gypsies, dream and bronze,
their heads held high,
...
I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
club-footed ghoul come near me.
I am not yet born, console me.
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.
I am not yet born; provide me
...
There was no visible wound in need of healing.
No sign of chaos
making its way as a headline.
It was quieter than that -
something tiptoeing through corridors,
stripped of laughter,
invading rooms
infested with polite silence.
...
Life is so bitter, I can taste it
Life is so bitter, I can taste it on my tongue,
Like unsweetened tea in the heat of the sun.
...
In the hush of winter's quiet breath,
Soft as the snow that settles deep,
The world wraps in a gentle rest,
And nature sinks to peaceful sleep.
...
The trees whisper tales of the summer's end,
As autumn's breath begins to bend
The branches bare, the leaves set free,
To dance with the wind in wild revelry.
...
Yellow leaves flutter down,
Soft whispers of a gentle sound,
A golden dance upon the breeze,
They drift like dreams among the trees.
...
God, You hold my steps in steady grace,
Through winding paths, a sacred space.
Hold on deh God, this no look like me
For every step, I walk am loosing distance.
...
A slice of pizza, warm and bright,
A triangle of pure delight,
With cheese that stretches, golden, wide,
And toppings stacked in layers of pride.The crust, a cradle, soft and firm,
...
In halls where dreams and knowledge blend, Where gears of thought and time extend, The systems school, a realm of blight, Where minds programmed with pure manufactor. From circuits, codes, to networks vast, A future woven from the manufactoring of ghost, In every class, a spark anew, A world of wonders to pursue.Professors guide with employers hand, Through logic's maze, they help us stand, With every theorem, proof, and law, They teach us not just how, but awe how one day we would be employees.Together, students forge a path, Through algorithms' silent math, Collaborate, innovate, and learn, In every challenge, passions burn.Oh, systems school, where dreams take flight, Through you, we chase the endless night, With every problem, we devise, A step toward the skies we rise.In binary and data streams, We find the essence of our dreams, With knowledge vast, our minds set free, In systems, we find destiny.
...
In the stillness after the storm, When the world holds its breath, A fragrance fills the air, Fresh and clean, beyond compare.Petrichor whispers secrets untold, Drops of heaven on parched earth, Nature's perfume, subtle and pure, Awakening senses, a tranquil allure.Leaves glisten, kissed by the rain, Each droplet a jewel, a tiny refrain, The sky weeps, then smiles anew, Life reborn, in every hue.So breathe deeply, let it surround, The essence of rain, profound, A symphony in the silent refrain, Smell the freshness of the rain.
...
In the twilight of a restless sea, I sit at rues crescent over look with balcony rolls and grills Where storm and silence play, Hurricane Beryl came to be, A force to sweep the jamaican day.Her whispers turned to howling cries, her emotions gently yet firm. As waves began to rise, Beneath the dark and roiling skies, Where nature's fury lies.She danced upon the ocean's face, scroll across the countrys homes With winds that fiercely roared, In every surge, a wild embrace, Of chaos she adored.Yet in her wake, a solemn calm, As Beryl moved along, The earth, though battered, found its balm, In echoes of her song.For storms like Beryl come and go, Their power raw and real, But through their might, we come to know, The strength that we conceal.
...
Holi is here, hooray, hooray!
Colors and laughter fill the day.
Red and yellow, green and blue,
Happy colors just for you.
...
In warm embraces, black love resides
Deep roots of strength, where hearts abide
Through trials and strife, it stands tall and wide
...
Life without substance no ice cream
Just a pile of shit ready to flush
Just life will kill you barebone living
What is the purpose living like weed
...
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—
...