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.
...
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.
...
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
...
The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set -
...
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.
...
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.
Sleep, sleep, my beloved,
without worry, without fear,
although my soul does not sleep,
although I do not rest.
Sleep, sleep, and in the night
may your whispers be softer
than a leaf of grass,
or the silken fleece of lambs.
May my flesh slumber in you,
my worry, my trembling.
In you, may my eyes close
and my heart sleep.
...
I had walked since dawn and lay down to rest on a bare hillside
Above the ocean. I saw through half-shut eyelids a vulture wheeling
high up in heaven,
And presently it passed again, but lower and nearer, its orbit
narrowing,
I understood then
That I was under inspection. I lay death-still and heard the flight-
feathers
Whistle above me and make their circle and come nearer.
I could see the naked red head between the great wings
...
In a world that never asked, "Are you okay? "
You kept breathing anyway.
With dust on your dreams and storms in your chest,
You carried your soul, did your broken best.
They called you too much, too loud, too deep,
But still, you sang when you couldn't sleep.
You gave love where there was none returned,
And held your fire when you could've burned.
...
Dilapidated mind-scapes,
grown old escaping misery.
In blossoms of youth
...
Funny how time moves on, how it fades.
It all seems slower without you, all I can
see is an empty shell of a heart, it beats
no longer.
...
I don't know
Whether I am right or wrong,
You too don't know
Whether you are right or wrong,
...
they said he drained them —
not with charm
but with a syringe.
...
[A Saga of Menaka and Vishwamitra]
The moon dripped silver on the pool,
Where lotus sighed and waters cooled;
...
Even as a child I found the mysteries more
fascinating than the facts - the notion that
the Hanging Gardens of Babylon once existed
opened wide my mind's eye and sent me off
...
Mystery
Many years ago, I had gone to Pakistan for a poets' conference.
They call it a "Shaayari Majlis" there.
The behavior of the Pakistanis, their warmth, the depth of their poetry—
...
They call us mad, they call us cursed,
For we will not bow to their painted gods—
Their temples reek of incense and decay,
Their priests chant empty words to dying fires.
...
Sitting attentively on a rickety park bench
My thoughts as deep as an ocean trench
People scurrying aimlessly with their daily lives
In time they'll fade too, into the archives
...
Author's note: I've written of nature and love, of the devil and God above. I've written shorts and poems long, of sports and song. Spoken in metaphor and rhyme, of space and time. Bled emotions on the page of tenderness to rage. But I believe this the shortest poem one record to set before going home. It may seem enigmatic so let me explain in a manner Socratic. A period to a sentence never said. Emptiness in nature or in your head. A small dot on white lower case, representing an atom, the end of a thought, a sun in space.
...
In the midst of life there is death
And in the midst of death blooms another life..
A tiny seed has the capacity
To grow into a mighty oak
...
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.
...
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
...
Beautiful is the 'thank you'
Wrapped with gratitude,
Offered to peace prone people
Who offer what is real-themselves
...
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—
...
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4/27/2025 5:08:00 PM # 1.0.0
