Poetry, Love Poems, Love Poetry, Black Poetry, Famous Poets, Tho Hay, Tho Tinh » admin

I Do Not See You Often with My Eyes

admin — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 13:13:25 +0000

I do not see you often with my eyes,
But often you are with me in my heart.
We rarely speak, but there are deeper ties
That keep us close while we must be apart.
Friendships don’t depend on sights and sounds,
But on the mysteries of need and grace.
You’re with me always, unrestrained by bounds,
In some sweet field more permanent than place.
And so your marriage is a widespread glory,
Shining on a world of more than two.
All the characters in your life story
Share the happiness that’s come to you.
No love but must with all love intertwine:
The joy between you two is also mine.

Source : poemsforfree

My April Lady

admin — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 13:09:15 +0000

When down the stair at morning
The sunbeams round her float,
Sweet rivulets of laughter
Are bubbling in her throat;
The gladness of her greeting
Is gold without alloy;
And in the morning sunlight
I think her name is Joy.

When in the evening twilight
The quiet book-room lies,
We read the sad old ballads,
While from her hidden eyes
The tears are falling, falling,
That give her heart relief;
And in the evening twilight,
I think her name is Grief.

My little April lady,
Of sunshine and of showers,
She weaves the old spring magic,
And breaks my heart in flowers!
But when her moods are ended,
She nestles like a dove;
Then, by the pain and rapture,
I know her name is Love.

Source : famouspoetsandpoems

SORRY I MISSED YOU

admin — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 13:03:54 +0000

(or ‘Huddersfield the Second Poetry Capital of England Re-visited’)

What was it Janice Simmons said to me as James lay dying in Ireland?

“Phone Peter Pegnall in Leeds, an ex-pupil of Jimmy’s. He’s organising

A benefit reading, he’d love to hear from you and have your help.”

‘Like hell he would’ I thought but I phoned him all the same

At his converted farmhouse at Barswill, a Lecturer in Creative Writing

At the uni. But what’s he written, I wondered, apart from his CV?

“Well I am organising a reading but only for the big people, you understand,

Hardman, Harrison, Doughty, Duhig, Basher O’Brien, you know the kind,

The ones that count, the ones I owe my job to.”

We nattered on and on until by way of adieu I read the final couplet

Of my Goodbye poem, the lines about ‘One Leeds Jimmy who could fix the world’s.

Duhigs once and for all/Write them into the ground and still have a hundred

Lyrics in his quiver.’

Pete Stifled a cough which dipped into a gurgle and sank into a mire

Of strangulated affect which almost became a convulsion until finally

He shrieked, “I have to go, the cat’s under the Christmas tree, ripping

Open all the presents, the central heating boiler’s on the blink,

The house is on fucking fire!”

So I was left with the offer of being raffle-ticket tout as a special favour,

Some recompense for giving over two entire newsletters to Jimmy’s work:

The words of the letter before his stroke still burned. “I don’t know why

They omitted me, Armitage and Harrison were my best mates once. You and I

Must meet.”

A whole year’s silence until the card with its cryptic message

‘Jimmy’s recovering slowly but better than expected’.

I never heard from Pegnall about the reading, the pamphlets he asked for

Went unacknowledged. Whalebone, the fellow-tutor he commended, also stayed silent.

Had the event been cancelled? Happening to be in Huddersfield on Good Friday

I staggered up three flights of stone steps in the Byram Arcade to the Poetry Business

Where, next to the ‘closed’ sign an out-of-date poster announced the reading in Leeds

At a date long gone.

I peered through the slats at empty desks, at brimming racks of books,

At overflowing bin-bags and the yellowing poster. Desperately I tried to remember

What Janice had said. “We were sat up in bed, planning to take the children

For a walk when Jimmy stopped looking at me, the pupils of his eyes rolled sideways,

His head lolled and he keeled over.”

The title of the reading was from Jimmy’s best collection

‘With Energy To Burn’

with energy to burn.

Source : famouspoetsandpoems

When i think of you

admin — Thu, 24 Feb 2011 22:16:56 +0000

by Juzzer

I think of you
When the summer sun shine
Whenever I am near you
I think of you
And I see a bright future between us,
Mountains of possibilities and endless sea of smiles, laughter
If you only knew, if you just feel the same way for me

Source: best-love-poems

I’ll leave it at this..

admin — Thu, 24 Feb 2011 22:15:51 +0000

by Melody

Starlight, star bright, first start I see tonight
I know you’re probably just a satilite, but listen still to what I have to say tonight

There’s this boy I know, he makes me happy and me makes me smile
I miss him every time I don’t see him for a while

Whenever I know he’ll be present
I always try to look my best and be pleasant

I hear his voice inside my head like a song on the radio
It’s like Juliet who won’t leave Romeo

I never know what to say cause I’m afraid it’ll be lame
It’s like some people think words can be just a game

I try to be sincere in all that I do
Cause I want to be myself and stay true

My feelings aren’t like a passing train
Their here to stay through the wind and the rain

It’s not the typical teen couple sensation
Nor the made up fairytale love story from someone else’s imagination

It’s something more; it’s something I like to call reality
I don’t want to live a fantasy

This guy makes me go crazy
He makes my heart go hazy

My heart melts every time he touches me
And his eyes are a sight to see

I feel like I breathe to see his face everyday
I wouldn’t want to change him in anyway

I’d say I love him, but then again love needs to be used wisely
So I’ll stick with saying I like him, until someday it turns out differently

I wish I could say more then just this cause
My words don’t suit him justice
But I’m just going to have to leave it at this

Dedicated to you know who you are <3 (P J-M F-D)
I know it’s just words on a page/ screen… but still I mean every single word
By: Melody Richard

Source: best-love-poems

THE REASON WHY

admin — Thu, 24 Feb 2011 22:15:19 +0000

by DISPICABLE ME

Youre the reason why I breathe.
Youre the reason whyI live.
Youre the reason why I dont give up.
Youre the reason why I never quit.
Youre the reason why I dont lay down and die.
Youre the anwser 2 the question why.
Youre the reason 4 every lonely tear I cry.
And this old shattered heart of mine.

Youre the reason 4 me 2 be.
Youre the reason why I am.
Youre the reason why the sun comes out.
Youre the reason why I give a dam.
Youre the reason why the stars shine.
Youre the reason 4 the bluest skies.
You made a we from a lonely I.
You saved the life of a hopeless guy.
Youre the reason 4 all these tears I cry.
I wonder why you broke this heart of mine.
I pray 2 God that you would never leave,
Cause you are the reason I breathe.

Source: best-love-poems

His name is my existence

admin — Thu, 24 Feb 2011 22:12:46 +0000

by Lost in a big world

His hands have never wrapped around me.
his eyes have never met mine
his voice is echoing in my mind.
i feel powerless against your words
i promise myself i love him
how could i not?
hes not in my arms and i wanna cry
i can’t breath unless my name is spoken from your lips
how does he love me.
his name is my existence,his name is heartbeat
I’m locked within my very being
i love you with every beat of my heart
and if you listen closely you’ll hear your name
Jordan<3

Source: best-love-poems

Looking back ..

admin — Thu, 24 Feb 2011 22:11:26 +0000

by Andrea

As i look back when we dated , i noticed i should of changed some things . but you loved certain things i did . does she do better ?
you called her names when we were just friends.
you looked at me & smiled all the time .
then you had me awhile after & you made me shine like no ones ever have .
i never loved anyone but you i have those feelings , but i dont love ..
you will always be mine & when were together in the future i will say i love you .
& show you i care so you wont leave me , again.

Source: best-love-poems

It Is My Dream

admin — Mon, 13 Sep 2010 07:29:36 +0000

To hold you would be holding heaven,
Your eyes reflect the stars,
Your skin I know is soft as satin,
It is you who melts my heart.

To taste your lips would be my passion,
To feel your breath my first desire,
Forever love provides a burden,
And one to which I never tire.

William mae

It’s Always You

admin — Mon, 13 Sep 2010 07:28:42 +0000

As day light took it’s flight this morning,
As each star winked and said goodbye,
As night retreated to it’s chamber,
And each dew drop began to dry.

It was you who stirred my memory,
The last I love you that you wrote,
You made me sigh inside my longing,
And sing aloud your wondrous notes.

William mae

Let us not die peacefully

admin — Mon, 13 Sep 2010 07:27:58 +0000

Let us not die peacefully.

Let us not leave
silently, head
shakingly, shoulder
shruggingly, hearts
sighingly. Sombre holy water,
sprinkled over those

ashy kisses on our mouths
from campfired marshmallows
as we watched the night sky
turn towards the sea

would do little.
Snuffed candles would not conceal the

four moles on your neck
Jenkins, Harlow, Bertie, Blob.

Let us die like the day,
glorious and blinding.

Let us die like demons,
bloody and snarling,
heroic and doomed.

Please, let us die
like galaxies, flashing
with the explosions of stars,
blowing themselves apart.

Abracadabra

Darkness

admin — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 13:57:52 +0000

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish’d, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came, and went and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this desolation; and all hearts
Were chill’d into a selfish prayer for light:
And they did live by watchfires – and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings, the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed,
And men were gathered round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other’s face;
Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:
A fearful hope was all the world contain’d;
Forest were set on fire but hour by hour
They fell and faded and the crackling trunks
Extinguish’d with a crash and all was black.
The brows of men by the despairing light
Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
The flashes fell upon them; some lay down
And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled;
And others hurried to and fro, and fed
Their funeral piles with fuel, and looked up
With mad disquietude on the dull sky,
The pall of a past world; and then again
With curses cast them down upon the dust,
And gnash’d their teeth and howl’d: the wild birds shriek’d,
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
Came tame and tremolous; and vipers crawl’d
And twined themselves among the multitude,
Hissing, but stingless, they were slain for food:
And War, which for a moment was no more,
Did glut himself again; a meal was bought
With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
All earth was but one thought and that was death,
Immediate and inglorious; and the pang
Of famine fed upon all entrails men
Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;
The meagre by the meagre were devoured,
Even dogs assail’d their masters, all save one,
And he was faithful to a corpse, and kept
The birds and beasts and famish’d men at bay,
Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead
Lured their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
But with a piteous and perpetual moan
And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
Which answered not with a caress, he died.
The crowd was famish’d by degrees; but two
Of an enormous city did survive, And they were enemies;
They met beside
The dying embers of an altar-place
Where had been heap’d a mass of holy things
For an unholy usage; they raked up,
And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands
The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath

Blew for a little life, and made a flame
Wich was a mockery; then they lifted up
Their eyes as it grew lighter, and
Each other’s aspects. saw, and shriek’d, and died, beheld
Even of their mutual hideousness they died,
Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
Famine had written Fiend. The world was void,
The populous and the powerful was a lump,
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless,
A lump of death, a chaos of hard clay.
The rivers, lakes, and ocean stood still,
And nothing stirred within their silent depths;
Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
And their masts fell down piecemeal; as they dropp’d
They slept on the abyss without a surge
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The moon their mistress had expired before;
The winds were withered in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perish’d; Darkness had no need
Of aid from them. She was the universe.

Source:poetry-online.org

Border Ballad

admin — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 13:56:46 +0000

Arch, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale,
Why the deil dinna ye march forward in order!
March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale,
All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the Border.
Many a banner spread,
Flutters above your head,
Many a crest that is famous in story.
Mount and make ready then,
Sons of the mountain glen,
Fight for the Queen and our old Scottish glory.

Come from the hills where your hirsels are grazing,
Come from the glen of the buck and the roe;
Come to the crag where the beacon is blazing,
Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow.
Trumpets are sounding,
War-steeds are bounding,
Stand to your arms, then, and march in good order;
England shall many a day
Tell of the bloody fray,
When the Blue Bonnets came over the Border.

Source:poetry-online.org

Bereavement – a poem

admin — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 13:54:08 +0000

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.

Source:poetry-online.org

Art thou pale for weariness a poem

admin — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 13:53:29 +0000

Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?

Source:poetry-online.org

Armies in the Fire

admin — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 13:05:21 +0000

Armies in the Fire

The lamps now glitter down the street;
Faintly sound the falling feet;
And the blue even slowly falls
About the garden trees and walls.

Now in the falling of the gloom
The red fire paints the empty room:
And warmly on the roof it looks,
And flickers on the back of books.

Armies march by tower and spire
Of cities blazing, in the fire;
Till as I gaze with staring eyes,
The armies fall, the lustre dies.

Then once again the glow returns;
Again the phantom city burns;
And down the red-hot valley, lo!
The phantom armies marching go!

Blinking embers, tell me true
Where are those armies marching to,
And what the burning city is
That crumbles in your furnaces!

Robert Louis Stevenson

Source:poetry-online.org

And like a dying lady

admin — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 13:04:31 +0000

And like a dying lady, lean and pale,
Who totters forth, wrapp’d in a gauzy veil,
Out of her chamber, led by the insane
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,
The moon arose up in the murky East,
A white and shapeless mass.

Source:poetry-online.org

An Ode, On the Death of Mr. Henry Purcell

admin — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 13:03:25 +0000

An Ode, On the Death of Mr. Henry Purcell
( Late Servant to his Majesty, Organist of the Chapel Royal

I

Mark how the Lark and Linnet Sing,
With rival Notes
They strain their warbling Throats,
To welcome in the Spring.
But in the close of Night,
When Philomel begins her Heav’nly lay,
They cease their mutual spite,
Drink in her Music with delight,
And list’ning and silent, and silent and list’ning,
And list’ning and silent obey.

II

So ceas’d the rival Crew when Purcell came,
They Sung no more, or only Sung his Fame.
Struck dumb they all admir’d the God-like Man,
The God-like Man,
Alas, too soon retir’d,
As He too late began.
We beg not Hell, our Orpheus to restore,
Had He been there,
Their Sovereign’s fear
Had sent Him back before.
The pow’r of Harmony too well they know,
He long e’er this had Tun’d their jarring Sphere,
And left no Hell below.

III

The Heav’nly Choir, who heard his Notes from high,
Let down the Scale of Music from the Sky:
They handed him along,
And all the way He taught, and all the way they Sung.
Ye Brethren of the Lyre, and tuneful Voice,
Lament his Lot: but at your own rejoice.
Now live secure and linger out your days,
The Gods are pleas’d alone with Purcell’s Lays,
Nor know to mend their Choice.

John Dryden

Source:poetry-online.org

An Epitaph

admin — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 13:02:14 +0000

AN EPITAPH
Walter de la Mare

Here lies a most beautiful lady,
Light of step and heart was she:
I think she was the most beautiful lady
That ever was in the West Country.
But beauty vanishes; beauty passes;
However rare, rare it be;
And when I crumble who shall remember
This lady of the West Country?

Source:poetry-online.org

A Prayer in Time of War

admin — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 13:00:52 +0000

A Prayer in Time of War

Thou, whose deep ways are in the sea,
Whose footsteps are not known,
To-night a world that turned from Thee
Is waiting at Thy Throne.

The towering Babels that we raised
Where scoffing sophists brawl,
The little Antichrists we praised
The night is on them all.

The fool hath said . . . The fool hath said.
And we, who deemed him wise,
We who believed that Thou wast dead,
How should we seek Thine eyes?

How should we seek to Thee for power
Who scorned Thee yesterday?
How should we kneel, in this dread hour?
Lord, teach us how to pray!

Grant us the single heart, once more,
That mocks no sacred thing,
The Sword of Truth our fathers wore
When Thou wast Lord and King.

Let darkness unto darkness tell
Our deep unspoken prayer,
For, while our souls in darkness dwell,
We know that Thou art there.

Alfred Noyes

Source:poetry-online.org