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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

Leopard

See the golden Leopard with the spots!
The golden cat of the cliffs!
See the Leopard with the bulging cheeks,
The golden Leopard with the wide face, I-Face-
Nothing,
The particoloured one, I-Climb-Into-A-Small-Tree
I rip off the eyebrows!
Clawer am I, dig my nail in deep,
My enemies I leave behind, saying
`This was not one leopard but ten!`
Mr

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Life in a Jar

Away from the bustling life.
A joy grows in a jar.

Chaos mind, disturbed life.
Hope grows in a Jar.

Many big ideas, big dreams insight.
A dream grows in a Jar.

Where others are planning to soar high in the sky.

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A Song at Sea

Our sails are spread before the wind,
And onward, onward swift we fly;
We’ve left our country far behind,
No prospect now invites the eye,
Save the blue sea, and cloudless sky.

Oh! when I wav’d my last good-bye,
To parents, friends, and Mary dear,
It was not fear that dimm’d mine eye,
This heart ne’er felt a thrill of fear

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Summer Song

THERE are white moon daisies in the mist of the meadow
Where the flowered grass scatters its seeds like spray,
There are purple orchis by the wood-ways’ shadow,
There are pale dog-roses by the white highway;
And the grass, the grass is tall, the grass is up for hay,
With daisies white like silver and buttercups like gold,
And it’s

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Air And Angels

Twice or thrice had I loved thee,
Before I knew thy face or name;
So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame,
Angels affect us oft, and worshipped be;
Still when, to where thou wert, I came,
Some lovely glorious nothing I did see.
But since my soul, whose child love is,
Takes limbs of flesh, and else could

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Top Stories

Afaa Michael Weaver- poetry

My Walking Shoes

I was sitting on the plane on the way to Paris, and the attendants were handing out customs forms and asking for people’s points of

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