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.
...
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
...
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.
...
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.
Lo, now four other act upon the stage,
Childhood and Youth, the Many and Old age:
The first son unto phlegm, grandchild to water,
Unstable, supple, cold and moist's his nature
The second, frolic, claims his pedigree
From blood and air, for hot and moist is he.
The third of fire and choler is compos'd,
Vindicative and quarrelsome dispos'd.
The last of earth and heavy melancholy,
Solid, hating all lightness and all folly.
Childhood was cloth'd in white and green to show
His spring was intermixed with some snow:
Upon his head nature a garland set
Of Primrose, Daisy and the Violet.
Such cold mean flowers the spring puts forth betime,
Before the sun hath thoroughly heat the clime.
His hobby striding did not ride but run,
And in his hand an hour-glass new begun,
In danger every moment of a fall,
And when 't is broke then ends his life and all:
But if he hold till it have run its last,
Then may he live out threescore years or past.
Next Youth came up in gorgeous attire
(As that fond age doth most of all desire),
His suit of crimson and his scarf of green,
His pride in's countenance was quickly seen;
Garland of roses, pinks and gillyflowers
Seemed on's head to grow bedew'd with showers.
His face as fresh as is Aurora fair,
When blushing she first 'gins to light the air.
...
The snail moves like a
Hovercraft, held up by a
Rubber cushion of itself,
Sharing its secret
With the hedgehog. The hedgehog
Shares its secret with no one.
We say, Hedgehog, come out
Of yourself and we will love you.
...
My heart skips a beat, my soul takes flight
When I see you walking, with a gentle, swaying light
Your smile, a radiant beam, that illuminates the day
A warmth, that spreads throughout, and never fades away
Your kindness, a precious gift, that touches every soul
A heart, that beats with compassion, and makes the heart whole
The way you talk, a melody, that echoes in my mind
A gentle breeze, that soothes the heart, and calms the troubled find
...
What will be my opus magnum?
What will turn the key for me
Am I too frigid to believe I've been chosen?
Am I too frightened to be sacrificed?
...
This road keeps winding and dividing.
Boomeranging to even up the score
This road keeps winding and dividing
Like trees with branches torn from above apart
...
I'm trudging in the quicksand.
Looking at you closing doors
I'm watching outgoing tides.
Drowning, I'm trying to catch my breath.
...
Layers interesting
Brings spiritual consciousness
Divine connections
...
Stille breitet sich aus,
ein schwerer Schleier,
der die Straßen bedeckt,
die einst voller Leben waren.
...
I know I'm not worth much.
But I'm worth every penny.
So, you better give me more.
You better give me plenty.
...
Wissen ist ein Fluss,
der nie ruht,
niemals endet,
doch niemals alles trägt.
...
A vessel of tenderness spills,
each beat a whisper,
each pulse a plea.
The ache of love, unbridled, unkempt,
...
I want to sing a canary love
Till a miner's light falls under your spell
And a symphony -hums into echoes
And mists till my breath stops heavy
...
CAPITAL OF MIND CITY
Trained And Brains And Poetryart art Of Life Distilled And Hands.
...
I've been a heavyweight.
I've been a feather in the wind.
I've been a knife threatening your life.
I've been a beacon of light on Christmas Eve.
...
Die Uhr tickt,
leise, fast unhörbar,
doch ihr Klang
füllt den Raum.
...
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—
...