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
...
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.
We have walked in Love's land a little way,
We have learnt his lesson a little while,
And shall we not part at the end of day,
With a sigh, a smile?
A little while in the shine of the sun,
We were twined together, joined lips forgot
How the shadows fall when day is done,
And when Love is not.
We have made no vows - there will none be broke,
Our love was free as the wind on the hill,
There was no word said we need wish unspoke,
We have wrought no ill.
So shall we not part at the end of day,
Who have loved and lingered a little while,
Join lips for the last time, go our way,
With a sigh, a smile.
...
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a gray mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
...
In the moonlit night;
She resides.
In the darkness;
She hides her weakness.
She has nothing to lose,
And nothing to gain;
For; her heart has a black stain.
Carrying hatred and rage;
Her inner child,
Got thrown into an unbreakable cage.
...
Remarked, said I, one sunlit day, no rush
As I was not especially busy,
"The politics of the day", I said, "confuse me "to a tizzy."'
She pursed her lips and began her blitz,
...
origin of non-poetics
(neo-avantgarde-theorectical poetics)
(after postmodernism/\after contemporary poetics)
...
for Anna Akhmatova
the snow sledge drives through lacquered lands
...
In the realm of feelings, where empaths roam, Their hearts like Wi-Fi routers, ever connected, Let us unravel the cosmic comedy— The tragicomedy of emotions, misdirected.
Verse 1: The Empath's Breakfast
At dawn, the empath stirs her morning brew, A blend of chamomile, moonbeams, and tears. She sips, and suddenly, the universe floods in: The neighbor's cat's existential crisis, The postman's bunions, the cashier's overdue library fines.
...
In the land of jollof wars and palm wine dreams, Where kente weaves tales of ancestral schemes, Ghana gathers, clad in vibrant hues, To celebrate life—the cosmic ruse.
Verse 1: The Fufu Feast
Behold the fufu feast, a starchy ballet, Where pounded yam pirouettes with grace. The mortars sing, "We crush your dreams! " As soup spills like secrets on eager plates.
...
My middle finger has the same authority as my pointer finger, I can pinky swear, and wear it on my ring finger. I can thumbs up, thumbs down, either way that's cool. I can ball them into a mighty fist, and get to correcting that fool... I can relax a bit, slap a bit, when it comes to the competition. Put on baby powder, make the slaps louder- for trying to disrespect my life's mission.
I can do them all, one or two, even one will work. So, come correct when you step to me, f#@k around and get your feelings hurt...
...
The lights went out
And then came the deluge
On this fearful dusky day,
And the rains poured down
...
I turn blockheads into bards,
And morons, men of letters!
I make dimwits, outwit,
The bright, in assessments,
...
In the beginning, when the sky was a wrinkled shroud, And the sea whispered secrets to the moon, Obatala, the cosmic potter, sipped palm wine, And Olokun, the sea's grumpy custodian, frowned.
Verse 1: The Drunken Potter
Obatala, tipsy on fermented sap, Molded clay figures with wobbly hands. He shaped their noses like twisted yams, And their eyes—oh, their eyes were cosmic accidents.
...
In the heart of red earth, where baobabs stretch their arms, And the wind carries whispers from forgotten ages, There, the Christ dances—an enigma of cosmic threads, Weaving through ancestral memories and sacred pages.
Verse 1: The Christ of Dust and Stars
The Christ wears sandals woven from stardust, His footsteps echo across savannahs and deserts. He is the cosmic wanderer, the celestial nomad, His eyes hold galaxies, and His heart cradles secrets.
...
In the heart of the savannah, where baobabs whisper secrets, And termite mounds double as altars for cosmic negotiations, There, my friend, lies a divine mashup, a celestial remix— A fusion of ancestors' whispers and hymns from heavenly stations.
Verse 1: The Choir of Contradictions
The choir robes are patchwork, stitched from leopard hides, As the congregation sways to rhythms both ancient and divine. The pastor, a seasoned baobab, preaches with gnarled branches, His sermons a blend of proverbs and Psalms, a poetic moonshine.
...
Friday afternoon, May 17, 2024 at 2: 19 p.m. and 2: 54 p.m.
— My neighbors are using East German Stasi Police Covert methods/measures, adopted and adapted by the Raleigh and Cary Police Departments, including low visibility harassment—actions carried out outside of public view—to constantly harass and intimidate me.
...
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—
...