..poetry's most powerful lines ever written...

shiuji

Pasar Perasaan — T. Alias Taib

ini pasar perasaan
pada gerainya duduk penjual sentimental
yang sering dikunjungi pembeli emosional.
ini pasar perasaan
mereka memperdagangkan kata-kata
yang terbit daripada kalbu
bukan terbit daripada akal.
mereka memperdagangkan hujah
yang rapuh dan lapuk
bagai kayu buruk;
yang mudah dipatahkan
bagai ranting kering.

ini pasar perasaan
di dalamnya mengalir sungai manusia
yang menghilirkan suara kosong.
ini pasar perasaan
yang memperdagangkan akal cetek
dan tawar-menawar yang dangkal.
kumasuki pasar ini
kususuri sungai sibuk ini
di tengah-tengah penjual dan pembeli
yang kaya dengan perasaan
tetapi miskin dengan kebijaksanaan.

ini pasar tidak berakal
yang diriuhkan kekosongan.

shiuji

Cukup — T. Alias Taib

sebatang mancis sudah cukup
untuk membakar hutan pahang
sepatah kata sudah cukup
untuk membakar hutan cinta

shiuji

Kulit Bawang — T. Alias Taib

dengan sebilah pisau di tangan
kukupas lapisan kulit di tubuhmu
dengan tidak kusedari
kukupas lapisan kulitku sendiri
hingga tipis
kulit bawang di atas lantai
tak berkedip melihatku
merenungi ketipisan diriku

shiuji

Zoo Negara — T. Alias Taib

sepasang angsa berkasih-sayang
di tengah-tengah kolam itu
sepasang angsa adalah kami
dengan kalbu selalu terbakar

jas7512

Not exactly a poet tapi some sort of quotes
Cita cita tanpa usaha adalah angan angan tapi angan angan yg dibangunkan pasti berubah menjadi sebuah cita cita
The quest to excellence is a continuous race with no finishing line

seribulan

Maya Angelou   
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings

The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

dani-rox

"Annabel Lee" - Edgar Allan Poe

It was many and many a year ago,
   In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
   By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
   Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
   In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
   I and my Annabel Lee—
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven
   Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
   In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
   My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
   And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
   In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
   Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
   In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
   Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
   Of those who were older than we—
   Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
   Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
   Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
   In her sepulchre there by the sea—
   In her tomb by the sounding sea.

seribulan

Rime of the Ancient Mariner- Samuel Coleridge

'And a good south wind sprung up behind;
The Albatross did follow,
And every day, for food or play,
Came to the mariner's hollo!'

@aleX-S remind me of your poem

aleX-S

seribulan replied at 20-11-2019 01:38 AM
Rime of the Ancient Mariner- Samuel Coleridge

'And a good south wind sprung up behind;

Don't kill her thank you

seribulan

aleX-S replied at 21-11-2019 09:25 AM
Don't kill her  thank you

Kill her with cookies

dani-rox

by Rupi Kaur, The Sun and Her Flowers

dani-rox

by Michaela Angemeer, When He Leaves You

seribulan

aleX-S replied at 21-11-2019 09:25 AM
Don't kill her  thank you

Satu lagi,

The Albatross, By Charles BaudelaireTranslation by Eli Siegel

Often, to amuse themselves the men of the crew

Lay hold of the albatross, vast birds of the seas-

Who follow, sluggish companions of the voyage,

The ship gliding on the bitter gulfs.

Hardly have they placed them on the planks,

Than these kings of the azure, clumsy and shameful,

Let, piteously, their great wings in white,

Like oars, drag at their sides.

This winged traveler, how he is awkward and weak!

He, lately so handsome, how comic he is and uncomely!

Someone bothers his beak with a short pipe,

Another imitates, limping, the ill thing that flew!

The poet resembles the prince of the clouds

Who is friendly to the tempest and laughs at the bowman;

Banished to ground in the midst of hootings,

His wings, those of a giant, hinder him from walking.

aleX-S

seribulan replied at 23-11-2019 03:13 AM
Satu lagi,

The Albatross, By Charles BaudelaireTranslation by Eli SiegelOften, to amuse themsel ...

Makkkk, kena masuk kelas how to dissect a poem 101. Ni original poem in French, baru ada abab cdcd, dan baru sampai maksud l'albatros tu

aleX-S

Lang Leav - Wallflower

seribulan

aleX-S replied at 23-11-2019 10:49 AM
Lang Leav - Wallflower

Phenomenal Woman

Maya Angelou

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 breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm 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 of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

aleX-S

Khalil Gibran on friendship

And a youth said, Speak to us of Friendship.
     And he answered, saying:
     Your friend is your needs answered.
     He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.
     And he is your board and your fireside.
     For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.

     When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the “nay” in your own mind, nor do you withhold the “ay.”
     And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;
     For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.
     When you part from your friend, you grieve not;
     For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.
     And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.
     For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery us not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.

     And let your best be for your friend.
     If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.
     For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?
     Seek him always with hours to live.
     For it is his to fill your need but not your emptiness.
     And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.
     For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

seribulan

Goodbye Dad

© Leanne Brady



It's never the right time
To say goodbye.
I will miss you, Dad,
And here is why.
You taught me so much:
To show no fear,
To always have fun,
And face the day with cheer.

You were always so able,
So fast and so strong.
In your little girl's eyes
You could do no wrong.
You would always listen,
And you never pried.
You were the arms around me
When I cried.

You never looked for praises,
And you were never one to boast.
You were always there
For those you loved the most.

You worked so hard,
And those strong working hands
Led me through life
And helped me understand
That life can be hard,
And tough, and sad,
But through it all
I had my Dad.

And because of you,
I understood
That life was actually
Pretty good.
I believe in you
And will follow your path,
And when things go wrong,
I'll look back and laugh.

I hope you can hear me
So I can let you know
That you were and will forever
Be my superhero.
So yes, today
I am full of sorrow,
But I will smile a little more
With each tomorrow.

So please, Dad, go
Be at rest
And know to me
You were always the best.

I love you so much and miss you every day!
xxx



Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/goodbye-dad-2

dani-rox

Marina Tsvetaeva, from The Selected Poems of M. T.; “Poem of the End,”

seribulan

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
By Robert Frost


Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.