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.
Dear Doctor, I have read your play,
Which is a good one in its way,
Purges the eyes, and moves the bowels,
And drenches handkerchiefs like towels
With tears that, in a flux of grief,
Afford hysterical relief
To shatter'd nerves and quicken'd pulses,
Which your catastrophe convulses.
I like your moral and machinery;
Your plot, too, has such scope for scenery!
Your dialogue is apt and smart;
The play's concoction full of art;
Your hero raves, your heroine cries,
All stab, and everybody dies;
In short, your tragedy would be
The very thing to hear and see;
And for a piece of publication,
If I decline on this occasion,
It is not that I am not sensible
To merits in themselves ostensible,
But--and I grieve to speak it--plays
Are drugs--mere drugs, Sir, nowadays.
I had a heavy loss by Manuel --
Too lucky if it prove not annual--
And Sotheby, with his damn'd Orestes
(Which, by the way, the old bore's best is),
Has lain so very long on hand
That I despair of all demand;
I've advertis'd--but see my books,
Or only watch my shopman's looks;
The eyeless labourer in the night,
the selfless, shapeless seed I hold,
builds for its resurrection day---
silent and swift and deep from sight
foresees the unimagined light.
This is no child with a child's face;
this has no name to name it by;
yet you and I have known it well.
This is our hunter and our chase,
We built on a solid foundation of lies-
And then it all crumbled, much to our surprise.
I know that I loved you, no doubt you loved me-
But the dreams we were building just never could be.
Like moths to a flame we were drawn by desire-
Like Icaurus' wings we were doomed by the fire.
Regretting the day which first greeted our birth-
In shock and dismay we came crashing to earth.
I was so stubborn until the moment I saw you,
You came in my way from out of the Blue,
Your smile made me stand without a clue,
You are the only book that I can't pursue,
Human beings and humanity
the person and integrity
Joy knows no....Sunday,9th January 2022
Joy has no bound
when your name is found
for some kind of appreciation
Love for all
Sunday,9th January 2021
If love is available
nothing is left to struggle
I heard footsteps
behind me and
asked who are you?
Acquisition of ultimate knowledge finally kindles desire to pursue spiritual development;
Spiritual development starts after experiencing a state of mystical trance in Nature;
Nature is the source and destiny for humans to know all, develop and attain Moksha;
Moksha is the final stage of spiritual evolution for all living beings in the world sure!
After an arduous climb to the top of the mountain,
I looked back to see them looking at me;
Waiting for an answer, they queried,
'What do you see; 'Oh, Great One' of the Ming Dynasty? '
A foggy winter evening,
Covered in dark clothing,
Through the haze, silently sitting;
Hot-coffee and me--sipping;
एक कोने से दूसरे कोने तक कोई भी दरख्त ना था,
पर दुनिया की राहों का सफर इतना भी सख्त ना था,
सभी खोये थे अनजानी भागदौड़ की रवानगी में,
बदहाल भागे जा रहे थे, सांस लेने का भी वक्त ना था।