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.
...
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;
...
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.
I'll tell you something: every day
people are dying. And that's just the beginning.
Every day, in funeral homes, new widows are born,
new orphans. They sit with their hands folded,
trying to decide about this new life.
Then they're in the cemetery, some of them
for the first time. They're frightened of crying,
sometimes of not crying. Someone leans over,
tells them what to do next, which might mean
saying a few words, sometimes
throwing dirt in the open grave.
And after that, everyone goes back to the house,
which is suddenly full of visitors.
The widow sits on the couch, very stately,
so people line up to approach her,
sometimes take her hand, sometimes embrace her.
She finds something to say to everbody,
thanks them, thanks them for coming.
In her heart, she wants them to go away.
She wants to be back in the cemetery,
back in the sickroom, the hospital. She knows
it isn't possible. But it's her only hope,
the wish to move backward. And just a little,
not so far as the marriage, the first kiss.
...
After long drought, commotion in the sky;
After dead silence, thunder. Then it comes,
The rain. It slashes leaves, and doubly drums
On tin and shingle; beats and bends awry
The flower heads; puddles dust, and with a sigh
Like love sinks into grasses, where it hums
As bees did once, among chrysanthemums
And asters when the summer thought to die.
The whole world dreamed of this, and has it now.
...
Oh, it hurts to let's go
Why did you have to go?
After all we've been through
Why did you fall for others and not me
Am i lest
Or a loser unlike others
Or your feeling push us apart
I still give all I have to you in turn
Broke my heart
...
Brel, a name that lingers like smoke in dim-lit cafés,
a voice that cracks open the sky,
spilling poetry onto empty streets.
...
Your voice is the wind over restless seas,
a storm that carries longing, love, and loss.
Each word, a wave crashing against the heart,
each note, a whisper from the soul of the world.
...
Oh, Lordy Lordy Lordy on St. Patrick's Day
If you don't have all that very much to say
Take your friends out for some green beer
And all that ready made cheer
...
Twee zielen, verweven,
wortels diep in dezelfde grond.
Een adem die samen zweeft,
een hartslag gedeeld in stilte.
...
Die Zeit fließt, unaufhaltsam,
ein Strom, der nicht zurückkehrt.
Sekunden tropfen lautlos,
verschwinden im Nichts.
...
A line drawn not on maps, but on skin,
a wall built not of stone, but of laws.
Footsteps echo on separate streets,
shadows stretch but never meet.
...
IN VIRTUAL REALITY I CAN'T VIRTUALLY BE ME
ZEROES AND ONES AND MEAN DANGEROUS ZONES
NO ROAD TO REASON OR TO SOMETHING INBETWEEN
NO BEATING HEART NOR MIND, NO EMPATHY
...
Like a haven as an unfolding sky,
Freely as the rainfall,
We are rainbows, sparkling bright;
As rain nourishes the earth, we were welcomed;
...
Where the Burren and Connemara waters meet
with potato forks, they dig for wild Irish oysters.
Kellys, oysters—they have that Galway wow factor.
The taste of the ocean, straight from the Irish Sea.
...
'n Lyn getrek, nie op kaarte nie, maar op vel,
'n Muur gebou, nie van klip nie, maar van wette.
Voetstappe eggo in afsonderlike strate,
skadus rek, maar raak mekaar nooit.
...
WITHOUT MONEY NO DEMOCRACY
YOUR LIPS CAN'T MOVE TO PRAY
BEFORE YOU'VE PAID YOUR FEE
IF YOU SAVE UP A LITTLE BIT
...
The hands that once built dreams
now tremble with memory.
Steps that ran toward the horizon
slow to meet the earth's embrace.
...
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.
...
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
...
Beautiful is the 'thank you'
Wrapped with gratitude,
Offered to peace prone people
Who offer what is real-themselves
...
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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3/17/2025 4:37:58 PM # 1.0.0
