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.
...
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
...
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.
Sunday night in the house.
The blinds drawn, the phone dead.
The sound of the kettle, the rain.
Supper: cheese, celery, bread.
For company, old letters
In the same disjointed script.
Old love wells up again,
All that I thought had slipped
Through the sieve of long absence
Is here with me again:
The long stone walls, the green
Hillsides renewed with rain.
The way you would lick your finger
And touch your forehead, the way
You hummed a phrase from the flute
Sonatas, or turned to say,
"Larches--the only conifers
That honestly blend with Wales."
I walk with you again
Along these settled trails.
It seems I started this poem
So many years ago
I cannt follow its ending
And must begin anew.
...
Cried the navy-blue ghost
Of Mr. Belaker
The allegro Negro cocktail-shaker,
"Why did the cock crow,
Why am I lost,
Down the endless road to Infinity toss'd?
The tropical leaves are whispering white
As water; I race the wind in my flight.
The white lace houses are carried away
By the tide; far out they float and sway.
...
My life is giving me a promise
You will be happy in one day
You will be there just in the moment
When heart from you will go away
To that one person who will have it
That person who will save it from
Of all the problems all this troubles
And help to you to rise again
She tell you once, at night or morning
We are together on this way
...
Cosa eravamo mai, noi nati nel 1975?
Negli anni settanta, niente altro che neonati
Anni ottanta, bambini
Anni novanta, ragazzini
...
Nascita tua, non mia
Il mio spazio, la tua testa
Travaglio d'amore, dicono
Di nuovo quel posto
...
What were we, born in 1975?
In the seventies, nothing but newborns
The eighties, children
The nineties, teenagers
...
I hit thirty and my back said, 'Hey girl, chill! '
My jeans got tight but not from the thrill.
The club lost charm, the couch gained glory,
And skincare's now a whole damn story.
...
A child draws roads on the water's surface
each ripple is a promise of returning or vanishing
The river eats dreamers, grandmother said
...
my fingers still remember the sour taste of tamarind leaves
grasped in laughter beneath the forgiving shade
green stalks part, tiny leaps vanish into the sunlit field
...
a chipped bowl measures rice and a mother's love
it also measures the years of hunger long ago
hidden in a cupboard corner, dusty and dented
...
chilly mist still clings to Dalat's streets
then suddenly a golden blaze of petals
rising from the highland
...
when will you be home, mother questioned
not needing an answer, she thought
she just liked the sound of promise over the phone
...
A poem, a peculiar thing with strength it must sing beauty to bestow
A balance no, more strong words than weak it needs to grow
Salted, spiced the reader enticed to taste of its broth
Word threads, weaving a fabric, embeds patterns in a poem's cloth
...
Jab tum thak jao es duniya ke bhagdaud se, to chale aana
Jab ye duniya tumhe rashh na aaye, to chale aana
Jab kabi tumhara dil tut jaye, to chale aana
Jab har taraf se nirasha hi haath aaye, to chale aana
...
Even as I say these words,
my doubts and fears wash over me.
I'm torn between the here and now;
uncertain where I want to be.
...
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—
...
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
7/20/2025 6:07:03 AM # 1.0.0
