Happy Is England
John Keats
Trending Poems
I think it rains
Wole Soyinka
Dream-Land
Edgar Allan Poe
The Story of Miqdad and Mayasa
Dr Alice Werner
Western Civilization
Agostinho Neto
Sonnet To Sleep
John Keats
The Thorkild’s Song
Rudyard Kipling
English Poems
Sleep And Poetry
John Keats
Sonnet 104: To me, fair friend, you never can be old
William Shakespeare
The Flea
John Donne
Squire Norton’s Song
Charles Dickens
Fairy Land iii
William Shakespeare
Daybreak
John Donne
Summer Song
Edith Nesbit
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Join our ever-growing poetry community to read, discuss and rate existing work from thousands of the best poetry on our database. Some of the works are collectively and individually published by authors and contributing editors. Poets, famous and amateur, are to submit their poems freely without obligation. All poems submitted go live after editorial approval and the poet owns the property right.
Poetry Collections
Taboo in Citadel
Abiodun Adekoya
Firefly gambit and left prank of noble-less in my veins
Sometimes ago it was Abacha who built tents
Of dysphonia and anarchy around the country
A few days ago it was Obasanjo who sunken
The consciousness of the masses in a slightly manner
And make Musa Yar’Adua, the ring bearer and a dualist,
To take care of the ex-masters’ interest
A Fairy Song
William Shakespeare
Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire!
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moon’s sphere;
And I serve the Fairy Queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green;
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see;
Swing low
Anonymous
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home!
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home!
I looked over Jordan and what did I see?
Coming for to carry me home!
A band of angels coming after me
Coming for to carry me home!
If you get there before I do,
Coming for to carry me home!
Tell
Area Boys
Abiodun Adekoya
Living in slums like leeches,
Wandering about like a bird without shelter.
Area boys, sons of the soil, snail has no blood;
The senior brothers of mendicants,
That is what you call us.
You say we are drinkers, patriotic smokers,
You mean the drunker that speaks mumbo-jumbo
Fragment. Where’s The Poet?
John Keats
Where’s the Poet? show him! show him,
Muses nine! that I may know him.
‘Tis the man who with a man
Is an equal, be he King,
Or poorest of the beggar-clan
Or any other wonderous thing
A man may be ‘twixt ape and Plato;
‘Tis the man who with a bird,
Wren or Eagle, finds his way to
All
Mary Of Magdala
James Edwin Campbell
Poor harlot, Mary Magdalene,
Into the feast with trembling crept,
Past frowns that stabbed her with their hate
And falling at His feet she wept.
Self-righteous Simon spurned her there
And marveled that her sinful touch
Displeased Him not, but he forgave:
“Though sinning sore she love’d much.”
Brave, grateful Mary Magdalene,
When Peter all his faith had lost,
Pressed on
Poetry Types
Top Stories
Writing on the Wall
Susan Hutton
Introduction Outside of China, critics often compare dissident poet Huang Xiang to Walt Whitman. But in his homeland, nobody reads his work, a fact that’s
All Around the World the Same Song
C.K. Williams
How globe-trotting poetries may not beat scrawls in a cave. Introduction When I was reading an anthology of contemporary European poetry, I was struck by
So Even While
Uche Nduka
To be a poet in capitalistic America is a rebellious act. When it comes to manifestos, I change the subject. Does the poem care whether