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;
...
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
...
The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set -
...
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.
A word will fill the little heart
With pleasure and with pride;
It is a harsh, a cruel thing,
That such can be denied.
And yet how many weary hours
Those joyous creatures know;
How much of sorrow and restraint
They to their elders owe!
How much they suffer from our faults!
How much from our mistakes!
How often, too, mistaken zeal
An infant's misery makes!
We overrule and overteach,
We curb and we confine,
And put the heart to school too soon,
To learn our narrow line.
No: only taught by love to love,
Seems childhood's natural task;
Affection, gentleness, and hope,
Are all its brief years ask.
...
Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
...
Screams and wails, through and through,
Beacons of hope were never true.
Tragedies seen, no less than the rest,
Tears of agony drizzling at their best.
The hands of tyranny showed their claws,
Lives at stake — yet never paused.
Drifting on waves, lost in dismay,
Thinking not of tomorrow, only today.
...
I hear myself crying. Help me! I feel so much discomfort and pain. My body shakes, my heart pounds. I feel like I am dying.
Every day there is no sunshine.....only the relentless rain.
This rain doesn't cleanse. It drowns!
Fear and Panic has taken my hostage. Help me!
...
I lay on my bed, listlessly,
my hair silvered with all I've seen
But the world is still not done with me-
Poisonous to my field of green.
...
Don't let the shadow of the dragon move you.
It bends beside what God has made—
a hollow echo of His light,
but never alive.
...
I was formed from the dust of the ground,
Shaped by hands where Heaven is found.
Not born of woman, not touched by breath,
Until God Himself filled my chest.
...
I am the rib, created from his side,
Formed by God's hands, where love resides.
A part of Adam, yet curvy and free,
Fashioned from flesh, mated in perfection, you see.
...
Poems written to discover me, some dark some in transparency
Flowers opening attract the bee, others aborted fell from the tree
A thousand blossoms grew and fell, each casting their own spell
Ask as I might from this wishing well, none their secret would tell
...
I see a pretty butterfly
Right there amongst the flowers,
Dancing gently neath the sun,
I could sit right here for hours.
...
I am dark, yet I am lovely,
Not hidden, not broken, not wrong.
Not shaped by the whispers of others,
But formed by a divine song.
...
The Rhythm Of Falling Leaves
While going on a road lined with tall trees,
I see their leaves falling at the touch of autumn breeze
...
What could be more mediocre or mundane?
What could be a more common or ordinary place?
Then falling in love with your pretty face
Heads are turning like a rotating weathervane
...
Surely, I will catch my breath.
And remember, I must breathe.
Such beauty as hers, undresses.
A perfumed rose, a pastiche
...
It's as if gravity were just a joke.
Narrowly swinging on a silken rope.
Tiptoeing on the air, she's all sewn up.
It's as if she's walking on the moon.
...
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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11/21/2025 6:56:06 AM # 1.0.0
