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.
Far from me and like the stars, the sea and all the trappings of poetic myth,
Far from me but here all the same without your knowing,
Far from me and even more silent because I imagine you endlessly.
Far from me, my lovely mirage and eternal dream, you cannot know.
If you only knew.
Far from me and even farther yet from being unaware of me and still unaware.
Far from me because you undoubtedly do not love me or, what amounts to the
same thing, that I doubt you do.
Far from me because you consciously ignore my passionate desires.
Far from me because you are cruel.
If you only knew.
Far from me, joyful as a flower dancing in the river at the tip of its aquatic stem,
sad as seven p.m. in a mushroom bed.
Far from me yet silent in my presence and still joyful like a stork-shaped hour
falling from on high.
Far from me at the moment when the stills are singing, at the moment when the
silent and loud sea curls up on its white pillows.
If you only knew.
Far from me, o my ever-present torment, far from me in the magnificent noise of
oyster shells crushed by a night owl passing a restaurant at first light.
If you only knew.
Far from me, willed, physical mirage.
Far from me there's an island that turns aside when ships pass.
Far from me a calm herd of cattle takes the wrong path, pulls up stubbornly at the
edge of a steep cliff, far from me, cruel woman.
Far from me, a shooting star falls into the poet's nightly bottle.
He corks it right away and from then on watches the star enclosed in the glass, the
...
Abani, are you home?
The neighbourhood lies in sleep with doors closed
But I keep hearing the night knocking at my door,
'Abani, are you home? '
Here it rains all the twelve months
Here the clouds roam like cows
Here the eager green grass
closes in on the door,
...
In the ocean deep and blue,
The rolling waves appear,
A sea crest running shore-ward,
To the sandy beaches near,
For is a wave just one or three,
Or ripples to the side,
Or is it all the ocean,
And the movement of the tide?
...
I've forgotten how to love, the sky's pale glow,
The drift of stars, the tender pull of evening tides.
The world seems veiled, its murmurs soft and slow,
As if the heart of time itself had simply died.
...
We couldn't survive
each to the other
We couldn't let go
to live
...
Saturday morning, November 16, 2024, begun at 9: 33 a.m. and continued at 9: 58 a.m.; continued again at 10: 40 a.m. with address correction to "5901" Westcreek Place below …
Let me count, describe some of the ways:
—the repeated beatings—more than 10 in total to date—of me and sons Devin Jin Ryan and Shawn Michael Ryan by the police themselves and by police proxies …
...
Haiku
Snowflakes fall dancing
Dead trees seem alive, in silver robes—
...
In the grey zone of my life,
I sit beneath the Bodhi tree,
listening to echoes of the Buddha—
a call that transcends time.
...
first magical realist haiku
wall-to-wall mirrors
in his presidential suite...
...
The night has come again,
To quietly listen to my tales.
I often share with her my grief,
Of misfortune and relentless struggle,
...
Meten is weten, leergierigheid, schrijven, spreken denkvermogen. Van vierkanten naar meer zelf en meer organische fluïde vormen. Niemand wil gecornerd worden in een hapklaar brokkenvakje.
Wanneer je je vriendschappen in heden en verleden moet afpellen tot kernbegrippen, dan zegt dat meer over jezelf, de reflectie die je vond in vriend en kennis. Het sociaal aspect van het dynamisch zoekend, vindend en verbindend zelf. Het spel van open en gesloten vormt een groeioase om jezelf in terug te vinden, derhalve is dat herkenbare fifty-fifty introverte en extraverte voor mijzelf zo sprekend. Ieder mens is waardevol en elke handeling zinvol, natuur kent namelijk zo goed als geen verspilling. Zodra je de rust hebt om achter de projector vandaan te kruipen en bereid bent schaduwen en spiegels te integreren in het moment en met jezelf begin je meer de vorm van je eigen wezenlijke kern te ontwaren en ontwarren. Er is groei mogelijk na zelfkritiek, inkeer, nederigheid en respect.
Je moet je vrienden maximaal 3 kernwaardes meegeven, spontaan zoals ze bij je opkomen, zouden die vrienden dat weten wat je van hen houdt en welke waardes ze bij je opriepen, oproepen? Zouden ze dan pas echt vrienden worden wanneer je ook dat deel losliet als les in de verbinding. Het ervaren van, je krijgt het pas als je het geeft, vertrouwen, rust, basis, vreugde. Eros als levenslust en niet alleen als libido gedreven reptielenbrein. Ego als structuur en basis, strengheid, integriteit en reflectievermogen., gezond ego dus. Omarm je eenzaamheid met liefde en openheid en men wil met jou verkeren. Zodra ik begreep dat er echte pikordes bestonden, kon ik die met selfassertment dus stevig du moment assertief handelend vermogen begrijpen en kwamen die los van me te staan, zelfs bij mij foerageren i.p.v. me onder te sneeuwen met dat eenheidsworstgevoel, "ratatatatata" het gras moet egaal en mag niet boven dat van buren uitgroeien.
...
Searched Him in depths and heights,
Found there exists no place without Him.
Even the minute creature—
deep beneath the earth's embrace—
...
All divine grace
prepared me for this earth—
timeless grace,
an eternal sun,
...
I Wandered To The Rim
I wandered to the rim,
peering into the void below.
...
I look into my eyes—
in the mirror,
Unflinching,
as the stare remains steady,
...
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—
...