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;
...
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 -
...
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
...
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.
For Thomas Edwards Wanning
Think of the storm roaming the sky uneasily
like a dog looking for a place to sleep in,
listen to it growling.
Think how they must look now, the mangrove keys
lying out there unresponsive to the lightning
in dark, coarse-fibred families,
where occasionally a heron may undo his head,
shake up his feathers, make an uncertain comment
when the surrounding water shines.
Think of the boulevard and the little palm trees
all stuck in rows, suddenly revealed
as fistfuls of limp fish-skeletons.
It is raining there. The boulevard
and its broken sidewalks with weeds in every crack,
are relieved to be wet, the sea to be freshened.
Now the storm goes away again in a series
of small, badly lit battle-scenes,
each in "Another part of the field."
Think of someone sleeping in the bottom of a row-boat
tied to a mangrove root or the pile of a bridge;
think of him as uninjured, barely disturbed.
...
Autunm eats its leaf out of my hand: we are friends.
From the nuts we shell time and we teach it to walk:
then time returns to the shell.
In the mirror it's Sunday,
in dream there is room for sleeping,
our mouths speak the truth.
My eye moves down to the sex of my loved one:
we look at each other,
...
I am happy seeing you smile
I never thought it's special
That it would break my heart-fragile
And guess what - I am in denial.
I thought its me that makes you laugh
But I guess this is enough
I am tired of fighting
That values me for nothing.
...
Beneath the willow's sleepy green sigh,
we whispered dreams too soft to try,
your fingers brushed my startled skin,
a thousand blooms awoke within.
...
I almost told you,
in that breathless moment between hello and goodbye,
that I still remember the weight of your hand in mine,
still feel the echo of your laugh in the hollow of my chest.
...
My ex is singing,
'Bury me in memory,
My ashes will float around your throne.'
...
Many yearn for fame, others honor, some for recognition. A poet is only the tool, so few reach acclaim, Homer, Shakespeare, Poe, Longfellow, to mention a few.
It is not our image or words that remain for posterity but the distant vestiges left in their minds that they can no longer identify with what was written or where it was heard. We are embers of past fires buried under time's ashes, whispers forgotten of foot prints eroded, echoing in the minds of the future.
...
UNBORN LIGHT
(Stella Of the Secret Dawn)
By Prabir Kumar Gayen
...
rhino and chimp in the knife and fork drawer
a baker baking bread on the ocean floor
jumble jumble
indoor shed
...
Lonely I'm
Pieces of heart
Gathering them requires time
Too busy to think of her
...
A legendary dark, so thick,
A corrosive smog to my young eyes that itched,
My kid-glove skin crawled like the parasitic tick,
It felt as though my whole system glitched.
...
Our spaces and places in time, seasons of our existence choices and decisions made, most times of our own choosing. A freeway seeing cars a few miles ahead of you as I'm headed to where I'm going today. How long has The distraction of continuous noise has it always been? There is nothing new under the heavens we came to pass from here to wherever our there will be.
Our spaces, and places in time
...
On a cold morning or after a long trek,
There's a peaceful retreat where worries fleck.
Outside the world is harsh, with icy breath and chill,
But here, warmth flows, and hearts start to fill.
...
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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4/29/2025 6:55:05 AM # 1.0.0
