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.
...
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;
...
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.
...
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 free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
...
I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.
...
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.
The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought,
The cheque was spent that the shearer earned,
and the sheds were all cut out;
The publican's words were short and few,
and the publican's looks were black --
And the time had come, as the shearer knew, to carry his swag Out Back.
For time means tucker, and tramp you must,
where the scrubs and plains are wide,
With seldom a track that a man can trust, or a mountain peak to guide;
All day long in the dust and heat -- when summer is on the track --
With stinted stomachs and blistered feet,
they carry their swags Out Back.
He tramped away from the shanty there, when the days were long and hot,
With never a soul to know or care if he died on the track or not.
The poor of the city have friends in woe, no matter how much they lack,
But only God and the swagmen know how a poor man fares Out Back.
He begged his way on the parched Paroo and the Warrego tracks once more,
And lived like a dog, as the swagmen do, till the Western stations shore;
But men were many, and sheds were full, for work in the town was slack --
The traveller never got hands in wool,
though he tramped for a year Out Back.
In stifling noons when his back was wrung
by its load, and the air seemed dead,
And the water warmed in the bag that hung to his aching arm like lead,
Or in times of flood, when plains were seas,
...
Our Father thou art in Heaven,
in water, in air
in all our silent and broad latitude
everything bears your name, Father in our dwelling:
your name raises sweetness in sugar cane
Bolivar tin has a Bolivar gleam
the Bolívar bird flies over the Bolivar volcano
the potato, the saltpeter, the special shadows,
the brooks, the phosphorous stone veins
everything comes from your extinguished life
...
My baby boy, my beautiful son
The whole year old you've just become
The whole life long you have ahead
Tall, big and strong you will soon get
The whole world wide you'll spread your wings
You'll see so many beautiful things
You'll reach up high and touch the stars
The whole sky full, the whole night bright
...
In love's radiant garden, smiles bloom like flowers,
Where our hearts weaved in trust forever stay.
Though poverty's dark shadow may devour
Our earthly assets, but love's riches never stray.
...
Take a break from the urban noises, be with nature listening to all the sounds of the forest waves of peace flooding your senses, the songbirds, the wind caressing your face, the autumn leaves at your feet, the smells and the tranquility of beauty when you are in the embrace of Mother Earth.
Michael Cochrane © 2024
...
I feel as if I were first born today,
By the command of the Divine, the One
Who neither begets nor is begotten.
I hear the Divine's first song,
...
Longing to break out of Hell,
No longer do we wish to linger
In these smoky, suffocating valleys—
Hell, at last, will concede defeat.
...
Dreams, Dreams, Dreams,
This world is but a dream,
The heretofore a fleeting shadow,
The hereafter a whisper in the night.
...
Dearest, why do you wander, void of aim?
Your soul, a guest within your mortal frame,
Each fleeting minute, precious to reclaim,
Needs careful tending, lest it fall to shame.
...
Dear my God, I worked all my life for my own will,
And wandered far to chase each fleeting flame,
In search of joys—to quell my thirst and fill,
The fields I tilled—-the oil I sold for gain.
...
I walk my path,
drawing light from the divine.
I aspire to leave behind
footprints aglow with sacred fire.
...
Music has been with me
for all my life,
present since the Day of Alast,
keeping me connected
...
In the sleepy town of Ravenswood, nestled deep within the heart of the Whispering Woods, a sense of unease settled over its residents like a shroud. It was a feeling that had become all too familiar, yet no one could quite put their finger on its source.
For Emily Wilson, the unease began on a stormy night, when the winds howled like a chorus of lost souls. She had just turned 25, and her life was already marred by tragedy. Her parents had died in a car accident when she was just a teenager, and her younger brother had vanished on a camping trip a year ago. The police had given up searching, and Emily's hope was dwindling.
...
I miss my true self so deeply.
I can't accept the notion
that I am nothing.
I am dying because I can't see myself
...
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—
...
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
10/3/2024 7:50:34 AM # 1.0.0.1119
