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
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.
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.
I WISH I’d never gone to board
In that house where I met
The touring lady from abroad,
Who mocks my nightmares yet.
I wish—I wish that she had saved
Her news of what she’d seen—
That Dan O’Connor is clean shaved
And parts his hair between.
The ladies down at Manly now—
And widows understood—
No more deplore their marriage vow
Or hopeless widowhood.
For Dan O’Connor is the same
As though he’d never been,
Since Daniel shaved that shave of shame,
And combed his hair between.
No more, Oh Bards, in Danyel tones
He’ll voice our several fames,
And nevermore he’ll mix our bones
As once he mixed our names.
Let Southern minstrels dree their weird
And lay their sad harps down,
For Dan O’Connor’s shorn of beard
And cracked across the crown.
The lobby and refreshment room
Are shorn of half their larks,
A newer ghost now haunts the gloom
One constant in a world of variables
- A man alone in the evening in his patch of vegetables,
and all the things he takes down with him there
Where the easement runs along the back fence and the air
smells of tomato-vines, and the hoarse rasping tendrils
of pumpkin flourish clumsy whips and their foliage sprawls
Over the compost-box, poising rampant upon
the palings ...
Looking Up From Down Under
We lie on the bosom of the green grass,
Beside the walkways,
Trodden by careless feet,
Ignored by eyes that seek no beauty,
Forgotten by even the few that look at us,
Yet, we keep smiling till death!
We look up to you,
The Land Of Holy Bosom
(Based on a story of a village in Kerala 200 years ago.
There lived a king in a princely state who levied breast tax against low caste who denied to reveal their bosom.Nangeli a woman defied the order and sacrificed her life chopping off her breasts as protest.)
My name is Rich Hospital
But actually I am not rich
I am rich only because of
Please mr scarecrow,
please don't scare me,
be my friend today,
if you can find a way.
I have voyaged far, crossed many oceans
I have seen the unseen, the grotesque.
From my undated diary.....
Myself I accept but am fully aware of my faults and weaknesses.
I have no reason to be self-enamoured as though I were noble or special in any way.
Life never bores,
I've too many chores,
In the end, I will get my way,
Be it devils or gods,
Albeit wordless, but its non
Well-meaning is clear.
This world decrees that you suffer;
As long as you are here.
We decry, what on by us
Too loudly and too long
And darkly melancholic
Drags, if half deranged, frantic
A feel-good light
Gives rise to, dawns onward
Seventy-two flowers swaying in breeze
Make a pleasant Heaven to butterflies.
Single corpse in the grave always gives
Heavenly delight to seventy-two worms.
Expensive fancy garb I wear,
A public image I must keep,
Perfectly coiffed and well sprayed hair,
I cannot afford to look cheap.
The sea is a hungry dog,
Giant and grey.
He rolls on the beach all day.
With his clashing teeth and shaggy jaws
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,
Your presence is near
I wish you were here
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…….
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.