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.
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
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:
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.
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.
How many paltry, foolish, painted things,
That now is coaches trouble every street,
Shall be forgotten, whom no Poet sings,
Ere they be well wrapt in their winding-sheet.
Where I to thee eternity shall give,
When nothing else remaineth of these days,
And Queens hereafter shall be glad to live
Upon the alms of thy superfluous praise.
Virgins and matrons, reading these my rhymes,
Shall be so much delighted with thy story
That they shall grieve they liv'd not in these times,
To have seen thee, their sex's only glory.
So shalt thou fly above the vulgar throng,
Still to survive in my immortal song.
Last night your faded memory came to me
As in the wilderness spring comes quietly,
As, slowly, in the desert moves thew breeze,
As to a sick man, without cause, comes peace
[Original: Urdu, Translated by: Faiz Ahmed Faiz]
All this violence, pain and sorrow,
makes me sad and wonder for tomorrow.
Can we all not live in peace?
When will this lunacy and chaos
The weak, the homeless and poor, there must be a solution, I'm sure?
We all need to help and pitch in,
to absolve us of, the Enemy Within!
Once upon a time a place fell into ruins
The mice of that place infested at once
They began playing upon the dwellings happily
As humans, we each have an ego, and our soul,
We must try to balance them, they have,
Almost opposite roles.
The soul looks at ourselves, inside, the ego,
My whole heart with the
Venerating of your commitment
Lounging in my hands like
Lionizing me as far as possible
Commanding eyes concentrate on
Yellow blossom buds abiding
Ogling sprout day
When has he left you?
Asked aunt Zuri.
'During autumn' I replied.
That night was not old enough to let out.
Daisy chains and buttercups,
Memories of a childhood day,
Running to the nearby park,
Precious days in every way.
The rain has stopped,
The sun it shines,
I think this day,
Will turn out fine,
Thousand days of hanging in the cold wild tree
Even the bright rainbow why hooded eyes can't see?
Like a butterfly gliding with the bee
But not synchronize like it should be
Above us, stars. Beneath us, constellations.
Five billion miles away, a galaxy dies
like a snowflake falling on water. Below us,
some farmer, feeling the chill of that distant death,
Buffalo Bill opens a pawn shop on the reservation
right across the border from the liquor store
and he stays open 24 hours a day,7 days a week
I will never forget you my dearest soulmate..
these old meomries will never fade...
you've always laid me in your shade...
whenever I trembled or felt afraid....
1. Take a shower you don't want to smell.
2. Pick out an outfit that will blend in with the latest trends and won't make you a laughing stock of the school more than you already are
3. Put on some makeup so you can't even recognize yourself and your face tingles with an unbelievable issue. You can't satisfy otherwise you'll have ruined the hours of meticulous painting you apply to your face.
He was before his beloved,
Kneeling on his thighs……..
His shoulders were down,
With his soulful cries…….
I was like a withered flower in a barren desert,
till I breathed your smile that brought life to my heart.
I was like a homeless child looking for a shelter.
Il pleuvait sans cesse sur Brest ce jour-là
Et tu marchais souriante
Épanouie ravie ruisselante
TO AMARANTHA; THAT SHE WOULD DISHEVELL HER HAIRE.
Amarantha sweet and faire,
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.