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.
...
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
...
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.
...
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;
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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 free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
...
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
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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.
Bring the Harp of the West, and the Pipes of the North,
When our Trumpet note calls to the field;
Let the men of old Scotia and Erin come forth,
And our foemen shall see who must yield.
Side by side in the battle, like granite we'll stand,
With a will and a might none shall sever;
For Glory or Death, we will twine in one wreath
Rose, Shamrock, and Thistle for ever.
Our Banner of Union shall float in the wind
Over hearts that have never yet quailed;
The sword shall be drawn and the banner be borne,
By hands that have never yet failed.
Sons of heather! your fame in the fight
Is as old as your glens and your valleys,
Men of Hibernia! let Right ask for Might;
And where is the spirit but rallies.
Side by side in the battle, like granite we'll stand,
With a will and a might none shall sever;
For Glory or Death, we will twine in one wreath
Rose, Shamrock, and Thistle for ever.
...
Here in a quiet and dusty room they lie,
Faded as crumbled stone or shifting sand,
Forlorn as ashes, shrivelled, scentless, dry -
Meadows and gardens running through my hand.
In this brown husk a dale of hawthorn dreams;
A cedar in this narrow cell is thrust
That will drink deeply of a century's streams;
These lilies shall make summer on my dust.
...
In the quiet of the night, I hear my soul,
Whispers of dreams that time cannot control.
Shadows of the past dance in the mind,
Memories linger, yet peace I try to find.
Tears fall softly, like rain on glass,
Moments fade, but the echoes last.
Through broken paths, I slowly tread,
Carrying words I never said.
...
Placed high,
on a pedestal carved from admiration,
words like gilded offerings,
eyes that saw only brilliance.
...
Cracks, once thought of as failures,
small ruins in the shape of a life,
carried in shame, hidden from sight,
unaware that dawn was waiting.
...
A Christmas Cross in the gathering darkness
By William He
There dwells the Hallowed Holy Mother, fir-souled,
...
i'm tired of trying to hide my pain behind beautiful metaphors this disorder is a monster it's a demon that possesses you that won't allow you to sleep, eat, or even play with your pets without it taking over it's something that cannot be stopped no matter how hard you try it's inevitable. you spend your life on a daily wait for it to come back and attack this disorder is sitting on your hands rocking back and forth because you cannot control yourself this disorder is climbing on top of the dresser leaving the lights on, while hours go by just to see the hair you want to get out more clearly this disorder is having your nose start running because the hair you pulled is too painful this disorder is an inexorable cycle
this disorder is jumping into the deepest ocean this disorder is jumping into the deepest ocean and not knowing how to swim this disorder is being buried alive and continuing to hurt yourself instead of trying to find a way to escape this disorder is being shot repeatedly with a M134 Mini-gun
that shoots 2,000 to 6,000 rounds of shame, guilt, and regret per minute there is nothing beautiful about this disorder no matter how much i try to disguise it as so loving the pain that comes from it sometimes feels like i love abusing myself this disorder is hell, mental fire that won't go away until you get 'just one more'
this disorder is questioning why you continue to do this to yourself if it's so destructive but then remembering that you have no control.
...
Pamela Sinicrope --- not only did she leave Poem Hunter, but she deleted her entire account, so none of her lovely poems remain. You are still missed, Pamela.
Hazel Durham has not posted since 20 July 2020.
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Me and my good friends
We gather beneath the lantern of my tales,
their faces blooming like poppies in sudden sun—
petals wide, throats bright with laughter,
...
Let them whisper, let them grin, Let them twist what's clear within.Let them call me wild or wrong—I'll stand my ground, I'll still be strong.
Let them gossip, let them guess, Let them drown in their own mess.Their words are smoke, they fade away—My soul is bright, it lights the day.
...
In a couple of days- I won't remember your name
In a couple of days- You won't be on my mind
In a couple of days- You'll be long, gone goodbye
...
They've walked through fire, they've felt the cold,
Been left behind, been undersold.
But still they give, they still extend
A hand, a heart, a piece to mend.
...
It's not my place to cast a stone,
Or weigh your worth when you're alone.
I'm not the one to say what's fair
I'm just a soul who's meant to care.
...
Respect is more than words we say,
It's how we walk another's way.
With gentle hands and open ears,
We calm their doubts, we soothe their fears.
...
One world, one dream, one game, we feel the rhythm
ignite our feet.........
We march as one, we roar as one,
we play this game as one........
...
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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12/26/2025 12:32:06 AM # 1.0.0
