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.
...
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;
...
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.
...
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
...
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.
...
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.
O Rose! who dares to name thee?
No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet;
But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubble-wheat,---
Kept seven years in a drawer---thy titles shame thee.
The breeze that used to blow thee
Between the hedgerow thorns, and take away
An odour up the lane to last all day,---
If breathing now,---unsweetened would forego thee.
The sun that used to smite thee,
And mix his glory in thy gorgeous urn,
Till beam appeared to bloom, and flower to burn,---
If shining now,---with not a hue would light thee.
The dew that used to wet thee,
And, white first, grow incarnadined, because
It lay upon thee where the crimson was,---
If dropping now,---would darken where it met thee.
The fly that lit upon thee,
To stretch the tendrils of its tiny feet,
Along thy leaf's pure edges, after heat,---
If lighting now,---would coldly overrun thee.
The bee that once did suck thee,
And build thy perfumed ambers up his hive,
And swoon in thee for joy, till scarce alive,---
If passing now,---would blindly overlook thee.
...
When Mother divorced you, we were glad. She took it and
took it in silence, all those years and then
kicked you out, suddenly, and her
kids loved it. Then you were fired, and we
grinned inside, the way people grinned when
Nixon's helicopter lifted off the South
Lawn for the last time. We were tickled
to think of your office taken away,
your secretaries taken away,
your lunches with three double bourbons,
...
On the first day I became a moon lover,
A new discovery that is full of wonders
Lying down dreaming at the starry night,
Gazing on the vast universe full of stars,
Me who first sight at the beauty of the Moon
Every shapes and angles are like a carved out stone,
A luminous orb that shines in the stillness of the dark,
Keeping my sanity in it's bright moonlight
...
'Are you afraid of me? '
Someone whispered to me
In the dark night,
I boldly said,
...
they called it mercy,
the white coats and clipboards,
a room with thick walls, sterile,
and him sitting there—
...
Als de dood zich langs de muren schuift,
in de schaduw sluimert, stil en geduldig,
voel je zijn adem, koud,
een fluistering die in de nek hangt.
...
Wenn das Morgen nicht kommt,
bleibt die Stille des Jetzt,
ein Atemzug, der schwebt und verweilt,
ohne Eile, ohne Ziel.
...
A sudden blaze, sharp and fierce,
piercing the quiet like a blade of glass,
splintering shadows that once cloaked the world.
...
In the quiet, a quixotic quake,
you sear like stardust in the dusk,
an ache, an ardor I cannot shake,
a tempest fierce, yet soft as musk.
...
Narben der Trauer, leise und tief,
gezeichnet auf der Seele, unsichtbar,
ein Schatten, der mit jedem Schritt bleibt,
ein Flüstern, das die Stille füllt.
...
When dark clouds linger, heavy and still,
the light feels distant, a memory fading.
Yet in the quiet, beneath the weight,
a seed of hope stirs, unseen but alive,
...
In the name of reason, we build walls,
high and cold, to keep chaos at bay,
holding tight to logic like a shield,
while mysteries slip through the cracks.
...
I smell the wild on you.
How the snow is caked in your fur.
When the night falls, what does
It offer besides survival.
...
Donkere dagen, een koude wind,
zorgen die zich opstapelen,
als wolken die de zon bedekken,
stil, zwaar, aanwezig.
...
Een zachte blik,
een hand op je schouder,
het fluisteren van de wind door de bomen,
een onverwacht gebaar,
...
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.
...
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
...
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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11/8/2024 2:44:01 PM # 1.0.0
