Poems
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkn'd ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.
...
The neighbors' dog will not stop barking.
He is barking the same high, rhythmic bark
that he barks every time they leave the house.
They must switch him on on their way out.
The neighbors' dog will not stop barking.
I close all the windows in the house
and put on a Beethoven symphony full blast
but I can still hear him muffled under the music,
barking, barking, barking,
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Of all the tales ever told…of all the stories ever penned…there is never one more beautiful than the evolution of a friend.
A little over a year ago on my morning walk…in the dark…under the stars…I noticed the same man passing me every day…down Main Street…in his car.
After noticing this daily pattern…this quirk of fate…this act of God…one day…at the moment our two paths crossed…we both began to nod.
After nodding to each other for a while…I imagine we both felt a little brave…as the next stage of our friendship became a smile and a wave.
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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.
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;
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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:
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The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
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Consciousness in its beauty and wisdom throws some clues at us in terms of knowledge and understanding but it is the same consciousness that remains empty and still, not provoked by any sense of urgency, totally hidden from the oscillating winds of time. It is this stillness that pervades time and space. This stillness is the substance of God. Beyond any revolving sun and planets where time is not measured in cycles of revolutions there is a presence of being that is unfolded on the ocean of awareness. You don't need time or space to be aware but you need the presence of being to be mindful of time and space.
©Kenneth Maswabi
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What was a dream is a reality and what's a dream will be a reality by new ideas;
Imagination, intuition, intellectual analysis and desire become dreams first;
By exploration, research and experience, new ideas pop up to be tried to do all;
Then dreams will become realities by some new ideas in human pursuits!
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Under the Covers by geoff skellon october 2020
i like it when your naked foot
touches my naked foot
...
The tick tick ticking of the clock
tick tick tack never stops
The tick tick ticking of the clock
tick tick tack never stops
...
The ink and the pen
the page and the verse
the art and the imagination
the foundation of a soul
...
Don't sit far away from the hand of redemption
Regardless of your ego or conviction
Stay near the door of renewal and hope
Be ready to embrace change
...
There is no love
only fairytales
only stories
songs and poetry
...
Silence works.
Eyes speak
Eyes listen.
A Blink for a blink
...
Someone has to say it
People are a source of all kinds of habits
These diverse spectrum of personalities is a mine of data
That help us explore the corners of our consciousness
...
Fingers claw at the chest
nails drawing blood from the skin
bones crack, snap, separate
finally able to grasp and remove it
...
I said hello to the 'Wind, '
Suddenly it was silent all
around,
She stopped to reply
...
Just wait a little while longer
for the stars to fall from sky
red robins are coming closer
to land on my outstretched finger
...
The low lands call
I am tempted to answer
They are offering me a free dwelling
Without having to conquer
...
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 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:
...
No earthquake, no thunder, no volcanic eruption
Or even there was not any of other natural calamities,
A sudden loud sound broke out all through the bush
With whizzing, shuddering, cracking, tearing, echoing,
...
If you die before me
I would jump down into your grave
and hug you so innocently
that angels will become jealous.
...
As you see universally
There is a great fall
Let love stretch its hands being universal
To love and teach us to love all,
...
Sweet moment, stay with me,
and pray do not flee so soon,
Let me enjoy the bliss of that
first kiss beneath the moon.
...
Rappelle-toi Barbara
Il pleuvait sans cesse sur Brest ce jour-là
Et tu marchais souriante
Épanouie ravie ruisselante
...
TO AMARANTHA; THAT SHE WOULD DISHEVELL HER HAIRE.
I.
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.
...
Long ago the Gladiators,
When the call to combat came,
Marching past the massed spectators,
Hailed the Emp'ror with acclaim!
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