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.
...
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.
Come to me, O ye children!
For I hear you at your play,
And the questions that perplexed me
Have vanished quite away.
Ye open the eastern windows,
That look towards the sun,
Where thoughts are singing swallows
And the brooks of morning run.
In your hearts are the birds and the sunshine,
In your thoughts the brooklet's flow,
But in mine is the wind of Autumn
And the first fall of the snow.
Ah! what would the world be to us
If the children were no more?
We should dread the desert behind us
Worse than the dark before.
What the leaves are to the forest,
With light and air for food,
Ere their sweet and tender juices
Have been hardened into wood, --
That to the world are children;
Through them it feels the glow
Of a brighter and sunnier climate
Than reaches the trunks below.
...
Body my house
my horse my hound
what will I do
when you are fallen
Where will I sleep
How will I ride
What will I hunt
Where can I go
...
I miss the hours of the purple skyline
it's been a while since the last time,
sky took a dunk in the dark muddy ground
forgotten to wash and be brighten with colors;
because the sky kept holding a grudge with clouds.
I miss the songbirds folklore of early dawn
as I used to lay on top of stacked hay,
dreaming just dreaming of nothingness.
Songbirds and dawn have broken up these days,
...
Do not label me because I am different then you.
Do you understand what you are doing?
Do you care that you are analysing me as I speak?
Did you ever think that I can read you like a book?
...
never ceased. You locked
The gates, and care imploded—
Waters drowned into silent stone.
...
Black and white bird, a flash so bright,
Oystercatcher, in the sun's warm light.
Orange bill, a tool so keen,
On Europe's shores, it can be seen.
...
They came in suits with plastic smiles,
Waving flags and counting miles.
...
Between my fingers, thin and white,
A fragile tower, poised to burn.
In smoke that writes upon the air
A cursive script of fleeting care.
...
Talent is born where narrow streets confine,
Where hunger schools the mind before its art;
Bright thoughts mature beneath a borrowed time,
And early need instructs the willing heart.
...
I write with my heart open wide,
No defenses, no walls to hide,
Only truth, unguarded, free,
This is where I stand, this is me.
...
I have come in the volume of the book written of me
To do Your will, O God, not mine.
Let Your will be my daily bread,
And Your will be my final supper.
...
Hear me, O Lord,
Incline Your ear to the voice of one who loves You.
I come not as a merchant seeking gifts,
But as a bride longing for the face of her Beloved.
...
I have drank the poisonous drug of life that leads to illumination in the stars
Tasted it bitter and sweet, hallucinated on its illusions, heard its music in barres
Dirges played on the heart beat of waves, requiems in the breathing of the wind
A siren's whispers leading to graves, dreams where a cast of the dice sinned
...
Can you please
Love me, hold me, squeeze me?
can you really Shower me with affections?
...
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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2/3/2026 6:16:42 PM # 1.0.0
