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.
...
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.
...
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;
...
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.
...
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
...
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.
Look, the eucalyptus, the Atlas pine,
the yellowing ash, all the trees
are gone, and I was older than
all of them. I am older than the moon,
than the stars that fill my plate,
than the unseen planets that huddle
together here at the end of a year
no one wanted. A year more than a year,
in which the sparrows learned
to fly backwards into eternity.
Their brothers and sisters saw this
and refuse to build nests. Before
the week is over they will all
have gone, and the chorus of love
that filled my yard and spilled
into my kitchen each evening
will be gone. I will have to learn
to sing in the voices of pure joy
and pure pain. I will have to forget
my name, my childhood, the years
under the cold dominion of the clock
so that this voice, torn and cracked,
can reach the low hills that shielded
the orange trees once. I will stand
on the back porch as the cold
drifts in, and sing, not for joy,
not for love, not even to be heard.
I will sing so that the darkness
can take hold and whatever
is left, the fallen fruit, the last
...
I love this byre. Shadows are kindly here.
The light is flecked with travelling stars of dust,
So quiet it seems after the inn-clamour,
Scraping of fiddles and the stamping feet.
Only the cows, each in her patient box,
Turn their slow eyes, as we and the sunlight enter,
Their slowly rhythmic mouths.
‘That is the stall,
Carpenter. You see it’s too far gone
For patching or repatching. My husband made it,
...
The sun is up again, the cameras follow suit,
Another daily episode in your scripted life,
Wake up, make up, kiss it up to others,
You wonder, what shade shall it be today?
We live in a society of sycophants and hypocrites,
Deceit is the trending beauty brand in this generation,
To remain of importance on high status you need to follow the trend,
We've got the liars' lipstick, the eye service eyeshadows,
and most importantly, the cover-up concealer!
...
Through the fields of dust and stone, Where the weary winds have blown, A warrior walks alone.
Bound to fate yet seeking more, Lost in whispers from the shore, Dreams he dares not ignore.
...
The golden hush of morning sings, Soft light upon your skin still clings. The world awakes, yet I remain, Caught in the warmth where dreams still reign.
The sun ascends, its silent call, Yet love resists, it does not fall. One final kiss, a breath held tight, Before the day consumes the night.
...
A poem is not just lines on a page, Not ink confined nor words in a cage. It breathes, it bends, it dares to be, A mirror of time, a song set free.
It dances in whispers, in thunder, in rain, It stitches the joy, it cradles the pain. Not merely beauty, nor truth alone, But echoes of hearts in verses sewn.
...
The sands arise with golden fire at dawn, A thousand echoes dance upon the breeze. The desert sings a song where time is drawn, Through endless dunes and silent mysteries.
The moonlight hums upon the shifting ground, A tale of love and sorrow lost in light. No chains can bind what fate has truly found, For stars still burn despite the endless night.
...
I remember the whisper of the stars at night, I remember the rivers humming soft and bright, I remember the echoes in the autumn air, I remember the weight of love beyond compare.
I remember the laughter lost between the waves, I remember the heart that never once behaved, I remember the silence carved in trembling hands, I remember the time we thought we'd understand.
...
In a corner of the heart, brimming with unsaid emotions,
Unknowingly, parallel thoughts seek silent expressions.
In the farewell ache of a chapter marked "Pause, "
The soul revels in the warmth that words softly cause.
...
Weaving tales of fate and fire, In shadows deep, he walks the mire. Torn between the beast and man, Choosing paths no blade began. Hope still lingers, dim yet bright, Ever bound to wrong and right. Raging winds sing tales anew.
...
Oh, pour the glass, let laughter rise, The moon is bright in velvet skies! Let music twirl and dancers spin, Tonight we drink, let joy begin!
No sorrow's weight, no bitter sigh, For every cup, let spirits fly! A lover's glance, a playful cheer, The gods delight when wine is near!
...
The silver moon ascends through veils of mist and night, Its trembling glow unfolds, a soft and haunting light.
The stars, like scattered dreams, breathe secrets on the sea, A melody so lost, yet hums in memory.
...
THE NIGHT
Theme: Love
This is the night where I deposit these poems inside of you,
Where I transfer my soul to you,
...
This is how I shrink my days,
In a bottle of capped vodka.
Maybe once my blood has turned Into alcohol I will call you.
Cause every drunkeness I feel makes me think about you.
...
When my tongue is not strong enough to pronounce your name,
And my eyes so weak to remember you,
Let my lips remember the taste of your laughter.
...
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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4/22/2025 6:58:37 AM # 1.0.0
