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.
at first, sunlight changing; then
dusky, or faded,
filter on the lens
encroaching, sky blue into
grey, then grey-lilac,
colours blur, textures,
shadows cast paler, out of
focus, sudden cold
strikes us uneasy,
half moon sun on leaves jangles
dragonflies hawk the
gloom, birds on their way homewards,
green murk of low cloud
BLINKS OUT: OUR DARK STAR,
CUT CARBON DIAMOND
and back, like a switch,
heavens as dawn six o'clock,
luminous, bleary -
to morning of mornings
and washed-lucid consciousness
I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
And the river flows like a stream of glass;
When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals--
I know what the caged bird feels!
I know why the caged bird beats his wing
Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;
While we move in road in the dark,
Still we hope more to walk and spark,
We see from far horizon twinkle star,
Then we go on long drive in body car.
Ignorance makes darkness in life fights,
Gift is wisdom dazzles more also lights.
Where to go in the dark road is unknown,
Still wandering gives way, mind is shown.
She can't understand
The door to reach god
was the tomb way. It was closed.
Timeless you have to burn.
Byron called Napoleon the little Fiend*.
French 'fiente' is English 'droppings'.
He called him the Urchin*, as well
(from old French for 'hedgehog') .
At times it happens
Decision seems easy
It's made without
A moment of hesitation.
Parasites never worry
about the host
Sucking out the lifeblood
—spitting on the corpse
Summer minds lose Winter's
Glum dark weight.
Granite's, crumbles. Releasing
A winged joy.
As much has its focus restored you
To a time and place
As what allows me to remain
When and where you were.
Just a plain old hand, aired; hung out
One summer's day, impassioned.
After that, shady and discreet
For pink hydrangea, fashioned.
Poor horse! And more indirect
Every throbbing fear on Earth
To figure in it.
War-time's incalculable loss.
What signals, for Autumn
Its death knell?
This last felled leaf, sad as slow;
It may tell.
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…….
As most Nigerians remain ruefully lukewarm
about President Buhari's second term bid;
An ever-increasing multitude of potential
voters across ethnic divides, seem to be
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.