my name is Alice Elizabeth, so am I
Allie Sheedy of the movie Short Circuits thus angry
or Elizabeth McGovern self-controlled?
This question is posited
on a television screen where I can't quite identify
the actress shown—which is she?
I am Allie and I will continue to rant.
My voice rises in real life often—
because I am 'passionate' ... that's
a convenient word.
I'm still in the forest, darkening
wishing I were 'nicer.'
Hardwood says, You should stand up soon
I'll help you
I say, I have cramps
I say, I'm using my period, to get pissed off and to Know.
I dreamed, last night, about an immense Dead Seal
below the surface of the water in a harbor
pull the curtain down.
For months you would not break the spell
for eternities you have not done so, citing economic
'My stomach's full of butterflies!'
lamented Dora Diller.
Her mother sighed. 'That's no surprise,
you ate a caterpillar!'
Sunday,17th Oct 2021
Dr Hasmukh Mehta
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
I want you to know
You know how this is:
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;
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:
I am kept in a box,
much too small for my size.
It keeps me well hidden
from the worlds prying eyes.
A spirit so strong it has woven a beautiful quilt.
We have all rested from life's labors under its delicate armor.
Life devoted to all but yourself.
I wonder, did you ever realize your own beauty?
The Pot called the Kettle
black and snapped, 'You need to
clean up your act.' Indeed
black, the Kettle replied,
Tired student looking for flowers
I'm so gray in past and today
And I want to live too little more
It's spring, I'm weary brown
Little Boyd Bluemel
Cormier Blosh Yost Horn
Derr Shipp Zimmer Meadows
Derr Cowan Derr Corn
It is a relief when the shadow man comes.
He passes and is gone in the blink of an eye.
The heart craves understanding
but the mind will not comply.
Sleep has nourished
Mind and body
Time to wake up
At 5: 00 AM
Lord, I long to be near you
that awakens wonderful
feelings in me.
just five syllables
then seven in the next line
--- how do I finish?
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.
Sweet moment, stay with me,
and pray do not flee so soon,
Let me enjoy the bliss of that
first kiss beneath the moon.
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.