Explore all poems
The rose is a rose,
And was always a rose.
But the theory now goes
That the apple's a rose,
And the pear is, and so's
The plum, I suppose.
The dear only knows
What will next prove a rose.
You, of course, are a rose...
I guess you think you know this story.
You don't. The real one's much more gory.
The phoney one, the one you know,
Was cooked up years and years ago,
And made to sound all soft and sappy
just to keep the children...
In England once there lived a big
And wonderfully clever pig.
To everybody it was plain
That Piggy had a massive brain.
He worked out sums inside his head,
There was no book he hadn't read.
He knew what made an airplane...
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as...
Standing at a cliff’s edge
Far into the sea I see
The ancient breeze drawing close
Rippling the bare sea
Gently it stings my eyes
Swooshes over me with grace
With the sound of a howling wolf-
And the scent of salt and...
She’s in love with sunsets
And all beautiful endings
Nature is in love with her, too
Every evening these two lovers
Stare and admire each other
She said she loved him
Just here for the drama
He hurriedly replied
No drama without love, said she
Have no time for one, said he
Like you and I, said she
The two together twine
Or like old age and wine
Do love and...
Pity me not because the light of day
At close of day no longer walks the sky;
Pity me not for beauties passed away
From field and thicket as the year goes by;
Pity me not the waning of the moon,
Nor that the ebbing tide goes...
Pastime with good company
I love and shall until I die.
Grudge who lust, but none deny,
so God be pleased, thus live will I.
For my pastance
hunt, sing, and dance.
My heart is set:
all goodly sport
for my...
When the silence gets too loud
Old wounds start to bleed
Your demons are exposed
And start to feed
Chest tightens. Breaths get faster.
Heart races.
I can't breathe.
"You're worthless."
The voices...
He stands, arms folded,
the forest alive around him.
Sunlight filters through the green,
but he's calm, rooted,
like he belongs here.
Maybe he's thinking,
maybe just breathing,
but in this moment,
he's part of...
I have brought the sacrificial goat
To the heap of grass, leaves and bark
He has forgotten his last beheading
But round his neck garland-like
hangs a mark