POEM OF THE DAY
Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred,
Promoted thence to deck her mistress' head;
Next for some gracious service unexpress'd,
And from its wages only to be guess'd
Raised from the toilette to the table, where
Her wondering betters wait behind her chair.
With eye unmoved, and forehead unabash'd,
She dines from off the plate she lately wash'd.
Quick with the tale, and ready with the lie,
The genial confidante, and general spy,
Who could, ye gods! her next employment guess--
An only infants earliest governess!
She taught the child to read, and taught so well,
That she herself, by teaching, learn'd to spell.
An adept next in penmanship she grows;
As many a nameless slander deftly shows.
What she had made the pupil of her art,
None know--but that high Soul secured the heart,
And panted for the truth it could not hear,
With longing breast and undeluded ear.
Foil'd was perversion by that youthful mind,
Which Flattery fool'd not, Baseness could not blind,
Deceit infect not, near Contagion soil,
Indulgence weaken, nor Example spoil,
Nor master'd Science tempt her to look down
On humbler talents with a pitying frown,
Nor Genius swell, nor Beauty render vain,
Nor Envy ruffle o retaliate pain,
Nor Fortune change, Pride raise, nor Passion bow,
Nor virtue teach austerity-till now.
POEM OF THE DAY - MODERN POEM
All day, day after day, they’re bringing them home,
they’re picking them up, those they can find, and bringing them home,
they’re bringing them in, piled on the hulls of Grants, in trucks, in convoys,
they’re zipping them up in green plastic bags,
they’re tagging them now in Saigon, in the mortuary coolness
they’re giving them names, they’re rolling them out of
the deep-freeze lockers — on the tarmac at Tan Son Nhut
the noble jets are whining like hounds,
they are bringing them home
– curly heads, kinky-hairs, crew-cuts, balding non-coms
POEM OF THE DAY - MEMBER POEM
A Spirit's Curiousity
A spirit wanders the lands
It looks for those who can see
Are there any who can see it
Are there any who hear it
It wishes to be spoken with
Can you feel its energy near
Can you hear its voice
It only wishes for company
It only wants to communicate
Can you feel its cold chill as it comes ever closer
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.
Aroma I feel is thy blood
Sucking thou until it made a flood
My teeth rooting into thy hypodermis
Fearlessness, braveness is what thou will miss
We Are Really Lucky
We are really lucky
We are here together
And we are trying to
Gods And Poetry
Your gods created poetry
So you could give
Them something to read
Put your arms around me
It's only you from what I see
It's amazing how much it's helping
with this life with which it's testing
To my Indian brother Dillip
Tell us about the offer
To put a poem not written
O Love Resurrects!
O Love resurrects
Warm traces of life behind
Dying eyes! It grows
Like flowers through cold ruins.
Bag Of Oranges
To my Indian brother Dillip
Give us a repeat
Of the brilliant poem
About the bag of oranges
Decentered on the edge of time,
Without any anchor or guide,
Myriad selves appear across
The globe. Each one adds to the discourse.