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.
Hard seeds of hate I planted
That should by now be grown,—
Rough stalks, and from thick stamens
A poisonous pollen blown,
And odors rank, unbreathable,
From dark corollas thrown!
At dawn from my damp garden
I shook the chilly dew;
The thin boughs locked behind me
That sprang to let me through;
The blossoms slept,—I sought a place
Where nothing lovely grew.
And there, when day was breaking,
I knelt and looked around:
The light was near, the silence
Was palpitant with sound;
I drew my hate from out my breast
And thrust it in the ground.
Oh, ye so fiercely tended,
Ye little seeds of hate!
I bent above your growing
Early and noon and late,
Yet are ye drooped and pitiful,—
I cannot rear ye straight!
The sun seeks out my garden,
To overcome lies in the heart, in the streets, in the books
from the lullabies of the mothers
to the news report that the speaker reads,
understanding, my love, what a great joy it is,
to understand what is gone and what is on the way.
In some places they say boak for 'vomit'
and spell it boke and bolk as well.
Thankfully a yolk ain't a yoke and a yoak
and baroque ain't barolk -
let alone baroak and baroke.
Thankfully a frog ain't a crolker,
the pudding ain't tapiolka
and 'so-so' ain't mediolkre.
The beautiful sorrow that tears souls apart
Until feelings slowly depart
I often question my existence
For my birth lacks evidence
No pictures to showcase
And memories of witness had long efface
Let's play a game
A game of mere words
Words of phrases
Some verbal phrase
Said the TV's weatherman,
a bright bloke on grey suit,
and with weeping eyeglasses,
"There's probability of precipitation.
I love you but don't get love in return
I love you but get hate so mind burn
That're support me to feel love of nature
And I go on as with my own behaviour.
In our leisurely drive across the country one of our delights
was an old school house in Nebraska…where we were blessed to spend the night.
We were already in the middle of nowhere….when ‘turn here' our GPS crowed…
Gevangen in het Nederlandse weer!
een verhalend gedicht, Story-poem in de engelsee taal
Caught In The Dutch Weather!
the forecast is brilliant,
What's wrong with us, one way talking people? The truth is of whom it has that! No waste of the days, no waste of our essence. Body needs, body neglects, body wants.What's wrong with us? One way, one way, peace, mind, heart! Together we are phenomenon, together we are phenomenon!
I may have gone away,
But in your heart I'll stay,
To live with you each day,
They say I pretend or lie
All I write. No such thing.
It simply is that I
Feel by imagining.