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.
...
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
...
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.
...
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.
...
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.
How stern are the woes of the desolate mourner
As he bends in still grief o'er the hallowed bier,
As enanguished he turns from the laugh of the scorner,
And drops to perfection's remembrance a tear;
When floods of despair down his pale cheeks are streaming,
When no blissful hope on his bosom is beaming,
Or, if lulled for a while, soon he starts from his dreaming,
And finds torn the soft ties to affection so dear.
Ah, when shall day dawn on the night of the grave,
Or summer succeed to the winter of death?
Rest awhle, hapless victim! and Heaven will save
The spirit that hath faded away with the breath.
Eternity points, in its amaranth bower
Where no clouds of fate o'er the sweet prospect lour,
Unspeakable pleasure, of goodness the dower,
When woe fades away like the mist of the heath.
...
(For Eduardo Chirinos)
Downstairs I left a candle burning
In its light I'll read a few lines when I return
By the time I returned the candle had burned out
Those few lines had faded like innocence
You walk with me
The way moon walks along with a child sitting in a train window
...
Before me are two vessels,
Filled cups; one clear, one grey.
One brimming life and beauty,
One steeped in death, decay.
My soul desires with thirst,
The love, the healing, hope.
Yet my hand grasps for the other,
The shackles, chain.., the rope..
...
When he says nothing,
He says everything
In an impeccable way,
I have realised this day,
...
The lonesome little birdie perched,
And looked so deep in thought,
Until from his thoughts he emerged,
As no fish had he caught.
...
That Light —
Without beginning or end,
Self-radiant,
Lost in its own wonder.
...
Rejoice in the Truth, O gnostic—
for the Truth is a gift that wakes—
the inner dawn.
It is radiant, unbroken, serene—
...
When I was annihilated,
silence bled through the city's veins—
wandering, echoing
in every hollow street.
...
'Anyway, ' I said—
I do not know
from where I have come.
From placelessness,
...
The call of return — the whisper, "Arji‘i" —
belongs to the one who, defaming his own mother,
brought honor from the enemy's gate,
and now lies buried in the dust of his own soul.
...
A story unfolds—
Silent, yet alive.
Within the deep strata of my being,
That which once lay hidden
...
In the mist of silence,
have you heard—
that breath
listening to its own being?
...
SOMETHING I LOOK AT-456
BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY
Are You Still in Love with Me
...
I awaken —
I am the hush between countless wings,
a whisper caught in the breath of dawn.
...
Before the dawn of being,
you were a breath inside the Unspoken—
a shimmer that trembled
between nothingness and His thought.
...
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—
...
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10/26/2025 2:57:21 PM # 1.0.0
