Well Known Poetry

These are the poems that most poetry lovers may have heard of. It is not to say that any poems are better than others on any of the pages, just that these are quite famous ones that may be featured on other webpages, books, or any other range of media/literature but which I feel need to be on here, because I like em.

© The Balliol Corporation MCMXCIV
Bessie Pease Gutmann®

Love and Hate | The Road Not Taken | The Magic Of Love |  Losing It | 

Falling In Love |  Footprints | Canvas Of Love

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.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say, It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breast,
The grace of my style.
I am a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
The palm of my hand,
The need for my care.
I'm a woman,
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

---Maya Angelou ----from And Still I Rise ©1978,1996 RandomHouse

If love is a dream than I hope not to wake.
If love is confusion than let my mind shake.
If love is the sun then let it burn on,
and if love is a god then let him rule long.
If love is a fairytale do let me see
and if love is a person, please let it be me.

If hate is a fire than give me a pool.
If hate is a trick then I hope I will out fool.
If hate is a rhythm I'll break the beat
and if hate is a hunger I just won't eat.
If hate is a story I will just close the book
and if hate is a vision, I just won't look.
If hate is a power I am stronger than he
and if hate is a person, I pray it isn't me.

The dance slows her frantic pace in pain and desperation
her aching limbs and downcast face aglow with perspiration
-
Stiff as wire lungs on fire with just the briefest pause
the flooding through the memory, the echoe of old applause.
-
She limps across the floor and closes the bedroom door
-
The writer stares with glassy eyes
-
Defies the empty page, his beard is white,
his face is lined and streaked with tears of pain.
-
30 years ago, how the words would flow with passion and precision,
but now his mind is dark and dulled but sickness is indecision.
-
And he stares out the kitchen door where the sun
will rise no more...
-
Some of us are born to move the world,
to live their fantasies. but most of us just dream
about the things we'd like to be.
-
Sadder still to watch and die
then never to have known it,
for you the blind who once could see-
the bell tolls for thee...
                                   NEIL PERT

One night a man had a dream.
He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Across the sky flashed scenes from his life.
For each scene he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand.
One belonging to him, and the other to the Lord.
When the last scene of his life flashed before him,
he looked back at the footprints in the sand.
He noticed that many times along the path of his life
there was only one set of footprints.
He also noticed that it happened
at the very lowest and sadest times of his life.
This really bothered him and he questioned the Lord about it:
"Lord, you said that once I decided to follow you,
you'd walk with me all the way.
But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life,
there is only one set of footprints.
I don't understand why when I needed you most you would leave me.
The Lord replied:
"My son, my precious child,
I love you and I would never leave you.
During your times of trial and suffering,
when you see only one set of footprints,
it was then that I carried you."

I wanted to make you smile
I could of said I'll die for you
or walk a thousand miles.
That may sound poetic
But never really sincere.
It's hard to put into words
What i feel "in here"
"In here" is where you are
You've been there from the start.
You alone and no one else
buried deep inside my heart.
Every time I see your face
and I hear your voice
it stirs up feelings inside
that I've never felt before.
Was it the words you said
that made me feel this way?
Maybe it was the touch of your hand
and the smile on your face.
I think I'm falling in love with you.
Is this love that I'm feeling inside?
Is this love that is burning my heart?
and keeping me up at night?
Oh, Lord, I don't even know what to do.
I think I'm falling in love with you.

Love is like magic.
It will always be
for love still remains lifes sweet mystery.
Love works in ways that are wondrous and strange,
love is a thing that cannot be changed.
Love can transform the common place into beauty,
sweetness and grace.
Love is unselfish, understanding and kind
for it see's with its heart not with its mind.
Love is the answer that everyone seeks,
love is the language that all hearts speak.
Love can't be bought. It is priceless and free.
For love still remains life's sweet mystery.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as far that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.
                                      ROBERT FROST

The canvas of love is a pattern of strands
Spun on an old loom with vulnerable hands.
Such a love, can move everest.
But it'll always remain as fragile
As any one strand under strain.
The love can be tested and twisted and frayed.
From feelings betrayed and words left unspoken.
Promises made and promises broken.
Then love comes unravelled,
And nothing will rhyme,
With a reason or caring or passage of time.
Yet, somewhere, may the ruined pieces retrieve.
The canvas of love may once more be conceived.
Woven in dreamwebs the magic is spun.
When love comes together,
The strand becomes one.
~by GARY OUELLET ~

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