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;
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.
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:
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.
The badger grunting on his woodland track
With shaggy hide and sharp nose scrowed with black
Roots in the bushes and the woods, and makes
A great high burrow in the ferns and brakes.
With nose on ground he runs an awkward pace,
And anything will beat him in the race.
The shepherd's dog will run him to his den
Followed and hooted by the dogs and men.
The woodman when the hunting comes about
Goes round at night to stop the foxes out
And hurrying through the bushes to the chin
Breaks the old holes, and tumbles headlong in.
When midnight comes a host of dogs and men
Go out and track the badger to his den,
And put a sack within the hole, and lie
Till the old grunting badger passes bye.
He comes and hears—they let the strongest loose.
The old fox hears the noise and drops the goose.
The poacher shoots and hurries from the cry,
And the old hare half wounded buzzes bye.
They get a forked stick to bear him down
And clap the dogs and take him to the town,
And bait him all the day with many dogs,
And laugh and shout and fright the scampering hogs.
He runs along and bites at all he meets:
They shout and hollo down the noisy streets.
He turns about to face the loud uproar
And drives the rebels to their very door.
The frequent stone is hurled where e'er they go;
When badgers fight, then every one's a foe.
Why did he promise me
that we would build ourselves
an ark all by ourselves
out in back of the house
on New York Avenue
in Union City New Jersey
to the singing of the streetcars
after the story
of Noah whom nobody
believed about the waters
A garden of wants, thoughts & fears
Inscribing pages inked with only tears
Lying on empty pages, guarded secrets
Locked away so as to never speak it
Behind closed doors cobwebs of wounds
Mirrors cutting beneath albino moons
I never felt I belonged on the ground
a balloon in a bush of thorns
Ah, that I were a cloud looking down
a silk cocoon wrapped in a blue blanket that warms
Acute suffering beyond bearing
Everyone admits by hearing
Everyone longs good friend
But never wants foe fiend.
is it possible this planet our world can produce
greed so horrendous; vast cruel excessive; as
to give inhuman birth; to ''a human being whose
desire for money equals the universe'' yes the world is
is it possible this earth planet
our world can horror produce
greed so horrendous hungry vast
cruel excessive as to give birth to
measure depths of absolute
excessive compulsive greed;
what is the ultimate price paid
all the money resources in the universe
cannot buy back even one human soul;
strangely the reverse is true of Jesus
Ketika ia dan aku telah menjadi kita:
'Aku akan melakukan apa saja untuk membuat kita bahagia, ' begitu katanya kepadaku, seperti ia berkata kepada dirinya sendiri.
There at Sycamore Gap,
I stood for centuries,
Next to Hadrian's wall,
A wonderful sight to see.
Sudah lama engkau bersembunyi dari rasa sakitmu sendiri. Bentang langit luas yang susah-payah kau simpan ke dalam gelas.
Engkau tidak sedang menyusun riwayat dari perasaan-perasaan yang tak engkau sadari. Sebuah manifestasi; perwujudan kebencian kepada matahari dan ketidakpedulian kepada
dunia. Bagaimana sikap diammu bisa menjawab semua pertanyaan itu?
Salahkah aku, bila sengaja memberimu lebih banyak dari apa yang engkau butuhkan? Kuberi engkau sepasang sayap yang indah agar kau bisa terbang dan menari di antara mega-mega.
Kuberi engkau kamar yang jauh lebih besar dari kamarku sendiri, supaya di dalam kamar itu engkau bisa melakukan apa saja yang engkau mau.
Aku tahu, engkau tak sedang ingin berbagi dengan cermin yang telah kaupecahkan itu.
Ada luka yang sengaja kau torehkan pada sudut bibirmu dan kedua bola matamu agar cahaya tak membuatmu buta. Aku hanya bisa menduga-duga, entah sudah berapa lama kau mulai membenci matahari?
Aku juga tahu, engkau tak ingin diganggu dengan segala ocehan-ocehan nyinyir yang cuma akan menyakitkan gendang telingamu. Sudah lama pula kutahu, bila engkau membenci hujan dengan suara berisik yang dibuatnya.
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.
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 low lands call
I am tempted to answer
They are offering me a free dwelling
Without having to conquer
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
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 -