Long Draw Poems

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Thanks To You All

Thanks to you all
Thanks to those who come to 
poetrysoup.com, practise poems, 
write, read and share poems 
and comment on others

Thanks to those who read my
writings, do comments, follow 
me, avoid my poems, block
and ban me from their list
Thanks to you all

I’ve no eternity here, all of me
from least to chest, best to edge,
sharpen blade of new paddy leaves
jeopardize my torn nib of ink
in the field of writings graph  

Maybe I couldn’t write any word 
for beauty and stunning young girl 
in comprehension, in passion and 
in my fashionable heart

Maybe I couldn’t write charming note
of flower’s petals, striking fragrance,
in my perpetuity lake of quills

Maybe I couldn’t draw the sexy body of 
rose, lotus, tulip, sunflower, orchid, 
lily, daffodil… etc in my vulnerable
reef of poetic expression

Maybe I couldn’t draw the colors magic
of rainbow in my infatuated fallen 
soaked feathers with November rain

Maybe I couldn’t inscribe the nature
the cosmos, the solar system, the ocean, 
the black hole, the space, the sky, the stars, 
the planets, the galaxies, the meteors, the
gravitational power…etc in my slumbering 
wings of writings

Maybe I couldn’t plant the meditational
tree into the pure heart of words, I couldn’t
select the seeds of immortality in my
ascetic madness and magma script

Maybe I couldn’t greet the autonomy flying
of Cockatiels, Parakeets, Canaries, Finches, 
African Grey Parrots, Budgerigars, Cockatoos, 
Conures, Macaws, Poicephalus…etc in my 
unintelligible incarcerated language 

Maybe I couldn’t hail the abode for Labrador, 
Bulldog, German, Poodle, Beagle… etc and
Maine Coon, Egyptian Mau, American Bobtail,
Ragdoll…etc in my materialistic 
harvesting terminology 

Maybe I couldn’t sleep with power of poems,
dream to be a finest classic or modern poet
in my kingdom of pen, paper, ink, writing
table-chair and lamp

Notwithstanding all these, I thanks to those
who come here at least one time daily, 
erratically and read, write, share own 
thoughts and comment frankly 

Thanks to you all a lot. Thanks and love you
all. From me always ready the rose without 
thorns and love for you all, although you bleed 
my heart by thorns stinging 


-November 14, 2018 Chattogram



////

DEDICATED TO POETRYSOUP.COM and ALL POETS-POETESSES OF THIS ESTEEMED LITERARY SITE


Oh You Know

Have you ever been on the edge of insanity at once in your life where you just feel like it's the end where you've lost yourself completely in what you trust which is your mind and your heart deep inside your chest and you just can't find any way out of it, I'm not so sure if it's just me or just a chemical imbalance of the brain in the mentality that we all get when things just get out of whack suddenly. I went to the book store today and I strolled on by toward a section of books where Philosophy lied and where Philosophy lied, Religion lied and where Religion lied, Politics lied and where Politics lied, so did Confusion. I have never been utterly so interested in my whole life where these things must have come from oh so long ago and yet at the same time, I probably never will, never will know the secrets of what's to come and even when the question is asked; "What happens after we die?" Ohhh; I don't know, Heaven? Hell? Reincarnation? We turn to bits of dust and grime? Or perhaps just the materialized particles that hide within the ground we walk upon today but regardless, I know that whenever the time is right, I'll figure out the answers when I've adjusted. I've never felt more depressed than what strong beliefs lead from me were suddenly destroyed and brought amongst others in different ways when they have been blind most of their life too like I have. Oh what a shelter society this small city has lead me to, or even worse what my parents have lead me to. How come I was never taught the study of Theology at an early age? How come Politics didn't matter to me by the time I realized what it was? Sometimes I really wish that I was raised on freedom of religion or read more books instead of sitting on my fatass all day with my father, watching T.v and suffocating in one of the many small apartments we called 'Home.' My Dad had never taught me anything, come to think of it. My Mom taught me a bunch of things but not enough. She was such an overbearing mother then again so how could I have stood a chance in the first place? But being so young still and weed messing up my head, I think it's time to somehow move on and continue to absorbed knowledge, grab some patience too and just get myself out of this mess for once; I know I have said this other times before but this is where I seriously draw the line. I can't believe I keep letting this happen to me.
Form:

Premium Member Unlucky Jim , the End

Bank robber Jim was one unlucky bloke
Went to draw his gun but the holster broke
It dropped on the bank floor
And went off with a roar
The shock was too much and he had a stroke...

Though he was unconscious he hadn't died
Woke in a coffin for his final ride
In a desparate bid
Banged on the coffin lid
But all he could hear was laughing outside...

Written 17th June 2021

Then someone shouted can you hear banging
It was quite faint because folks were singing
The sheriff prised off the lid
And he was so glad he did
Because he thought we'll have us a hanging...

Jim didn't know whether to laugh or cry
Resigned himself to the fact that he'd die
Saw sheriff holding a rope
Realised there was no hope
And for unlucky Jim the end was nigh...

He was taken to the gallows in town
Handcuffed and wearing nothing but a frown
Jim was then starting to choke
But with the drop the rope broke
The crowd screamed as poor Jim came tumbling down..

Unlucky Jim jumped up quick as a flash
As he passed the bank ran in and grabbed cash
He stole the first horse he saw
Then let out a loud yee haw
And for sweet freedom he made a quick dash...

Written 19th June 2021


A bounty hunter called Nevada Slim
Went after bank robber Unlucky Jim
With tracker Spirit Bear
They discovered Jims lair
And Jim's future was now looking quite grim...

Slim called out "put your hands in the air"
Jim grabbed his gun,  Slim said "don't you dare"
But Jim was too fast
And let off a blast
Slim fell dead then Jim shot Spirit Bear...

Jim quickly packed his things and rode away
Thankful that he'd survived another day
He decided to lie low
But what old Jim didn't know
Was that Pinkertons were heading his way...

Jim was sleeping in the afternoon sun
And didnt hear the cocking of a gun
He woke up with dread
Saw guns at his head
And a lawman said "Jim looks like your done"...

Jim was handcuffed and they rode back to town
There to meet them was Sheriff and Judge Brown
The charges were read
Jim nodded his head
Sheriff said " this time Jim you're going down" ...

For Jims last request he asked for a smoke
And noticed the hangman had a new rope
He put a hood on Jims head
Jim dangled then he was dead
An escape this time!, there wasn't a hope...

Written 1st July  2021



RIP UNLUCKY JIM
Form: Limerick

Unspun:In the Orange

I lay in my bed.
Thoughts come in waves.
When will it end?
The Dragon slain.

No amount of time.
No person, no thing.
Can change the fate,
That the needle brings.

Sights of Orange,
Delight my eyes.
I pick up a crystal,
And to no surprise.

I crush it down. 
In that damn orange cup.
I’m so overwhelmed.
The sinking feeling abrupt.

I carefully decide,
The amount to pour.
Then mix it with water.
And dissolve once more.

I take off the cap,
To reveal the shine.
Of that needle so enticing. 
That it blows my mind.

I feel so small.
As I stare at that point.
My body quivers.
I can’t disappoint.

Thoughts of guilt.
Invade my brain.
But my body keeps saying,
This will soon end the pain.

So I draw the solution, 
Into the stem.
Then flick it twice. 
Let the bubbles settle in.

I slowly push the air out.
That’s collected on top.
And wonder to myself,
If I will ever stop.

But I shrug it away. 
And again think of pain.
Then tie on my tourniquet.
And say “ it” again.

The veins start to pop. 
And spread on my skin.
They bulge and prod,
And trickle within.

Sometimes this takes hours. 
Sometimes days of my life.
I get so frustrated.
But search on with strife.

I stab myself over and over again.
Until the blood flows red into my syringe.

Seeing the blood,
Makes my whole body weak.
But I surrender with ease.
No more words can I speak.

I push the plunger forward,
Till she entires my veins.
Down to the last drop.
Empty and insane.

I wait just a second.
Pull the needle out.
My body turns to fire.
This is what it’s all about.

From my toes to my head,
Her venom spreads.
Ecstasy at last.
No more feelings of dread.

Then the fire fades,
Just as quickly as it came.
And then there’s just calm.
A final break from the shame.

I’ve given my life to this process,
So many times.
The bigger the shot.
The bigger the crimes.

When I’m in this state,
The dragon has one.
My mind and my heart,
Become unspun.

I do terrible things,
To all of my friends.
My family, my children.
But she always wins.

I always think I can only do one.
But that’s never the case.
The cycles just begun.

“The devils tool” I’ve heard it said.
Takes every ounce of life.
And leaves you for dead.

But you rise up and start
The process once more.
A zombie. Tortured chaos.
I don’t know anymore.
Form: Rhyme

A Portrait of Vincent Vangogh

To the proud parents, Anna and Theo
A serious lad, silent and thorough
A clan of preachers
And dealers of art
From the southern Netherlands came Van Gogh

When sent to school, he did not want to go
The separation led to much sorrow
But he learned to draw
Whatever he saw
Sent off to sell art in Paris, Van Gogh

His happiest time, and now in love, oh
Till the landlady’s daughter told him no
Now a broken heart
Surly to sell art
Fired from his job in Paris, Van Gogh

Vincent sought out a coal miners’ burrow
A priest of sorts, but a squalid fellow
The church was appalled
And cursed his resolve
To the asylum for crazy Van Gogh?

His father baffled, on the verge of foe
Art interest, once again, began to grow
Back to school again
This time, in His name
To paint in the service of God, Van Gogh

School’s out, back to his parents he would go
Using neighbors as subjects to ditto
Proposed to his cousin
Which she found disgustin’
Burning his hand to see her, holy Van Gogh!?!

Now off to The Hague, a family furlough
To live with Sien, a boozing bimbo
A man to see ya…
Caught gonorrhea
Three weeks in the hospital for Van Gogh

The pain of loneliness drove him back home
Once again, a failed love with fair Margot
Then Vincent’s father died
He grieved deeply inside
The tragedy further refined Van Gogh

Finally, Vincent’s work was in the know
“The Potato Eaters” made an art show
Just add more color
Said his dear brother 
Rubens brightened the dark gloom of Van Gogh

Vincent’s diet: coffee and tobacco
Mixed with absinthe began to take its toll
Though he kept on painting
Then Paris, more training
The end was getting closer for Van Gogh

The masters: Monet, Degas, Pissarro
Cezanne, and Seurat in his studio
Influenced his style
Learning all the while
That time was running out for Mr. Van Gogh

Then he moved to Arles, bad health in tow
Completing great works the whole world would know 
“Sunflowers” (in vase)
“The Café Terrace”
Minus one ear, the frail, ailing Van Gogh

With his tattered mind, and mournful woe
Committed to the asylum, Mausole
With his final works
“The Church at Auvers”
“Starry Night” was painted in pain, Van Gogh

“At Eternity’s Gate”, he was sorrow
Wandered into a field, farmer’s fallow
Put a bullet in his chest
In hopes of peaceful rest
“The sadness will last forever”, Van Gogh
Form: Limerick


A Lover's Letter - Part 3 of 4

- continued from Part 2

I Am Making More Profits
Than An Open Window Can Scope!
But More Importantly
Than Any Viable Earnings Can Invoke …
Lovely … I Am Sending Valuable-Love
… Inside This Envelope

(Isa. 54: 11, 12)
Yes, Lovely … You Are My Amethysts & Rubies
and Sapphires and Silver and Gold
and I Am The Richest Person Alive!
… If The Truth Be Told …

I Want You Ecstatically Happy
Now Surely, You Must Know
I Just Want To See Your Own
Luminous, Starry Eyes Aglow

… and Pour Drops of Soothing Oil
and Lavish-Anoint You – Head To Toe
and Smell Your Sweet, Pure Perfume
Wafting Like Incense To My Nose …

And Hold You In My Arms
and Never Let You Go
My Lovely One, I’ll Be With You Soon
Because I Love You So …

My Lovely One, You Know Me
To Be A Lover of Honor, Most Honest
The Length Between Us Is Loyal
and Getting Closer By The Moments

And You Have Your One-True-Lover’s
Word of Oath – On This (like Sacred-Sonnets)
And I Will Come For You, My Lovely One
 …  I Promise …

But The War Rages On
and Will Wage Worse Before Its Gone
But These Things I Have Told You
So You Have Always Known …

About Harsh Ways of The World
So Go Past Them, You Must Stay Strong
and True To Me ‘Til I Come
and Make Us A Brand New Home
(For To Me, Again – You’ll Belong
… Before Ere’ Too Long …
(Rev. 21: 3, 4)

But I Must Finish My Duty
and Complete My Timeline-Task
The Importance and Responsibility
For This Job Is Very Vast!

It’s For Our Future & To Make Sure
That We Will Always Last
and That No One Else Dare Repeat
Poisoned Mistakes From Prideful-Pasts

And After This … We’ll Never Again
Ungroup or Unclasp!
But Your Understanding & Agreement
Is Needed Now … That’s What I Ask …

Oh, Let My Words Kindle
Your Starry Eyes Like Flames!
Let The Fire of My Ardor
& Pure Force, Course Thru Your Veins!
(The Song of Solomon 8: 6, 7)

And Let This Letter Draw You To Me
With Unbreakable Mettle Chains!
and If You Must Whisper and Weep
Just Softly Echo My Name …
(Remember, You Agreed To Wear My Name)
(Isa. 43: 7, 10, 11 /  Acts 11: 26  /  Rom. 10: 13)

Let This Letter Be My Lips
Speaking Forth Innocence
Let This Letter Be My Lips
and Each Word A Knowing Kiss

Let This Letter Be My Voice
Telling You How You’re Loved & Missed
For Soon, We Will Be Together
As If In Celestial Bliss

I Send This Letter So It Could
Act As Your Revival
I Sent This Letter So You Could
Know I Am Reliable

(Part 3 of 4)
Form: Narrative

Cattlecoaat Dipolamcy

THEY WERE NOT ADMIRED, THEY WERE HARDLY EVEN LIKED, THEY REFRAMED FROM COMMENT DUE TO THEIR DISPOSITION, ALLOWING
SOMEONE WITH A GREATER DISPOSITION TO BE IN CONTROLL. mONITERING
THEIR ABLITIES WOULD BE EASY AS THESE MEN WERE ADVANCE IN THEIR TRAINING. THEIR WORKS WERE OF THE TEACHINS OF "GEM FULLA" (WORLD FAMOUS SUBMITION GRAPPLER. ONCE KNOW IN THEIR NATIVE COSTA RICA AS
U-NEW, AND U-OLE, THEY HAD REIGNED SUPREME, UNTIL "THE MEN FROM DAFFA" CAME TO THEIR TERRITORY, AND MADE COMPANY MEN OUTTA FREELANCERS. THEY DEFEATED THE TWO IN A "COMMONGROUND- STANDOFF"( A TWO OUT OF THREE FALL SUBMITION MATCH) THEY WERE DEPOSSED BY THE PROMOTION, AND SHAMED BY THEIR PEERS, THOSE WHO SUGGESTED, THE TWO TO WEAR MASK, IN LIGHT OF THEIR SHAME. MONTHS LATER, WHEN THEY HAD REBOUNDED TO RECOVER, THEY HAD WON 25 OUT OF 33 MATCHES, AND HAD POSITIONED THEMSELVES FOR A CHAMPIONSHIP TITLE MATCH. THERE LUCK EVEN HAD THEM TO FIND FORTUNE IN MEXICO, WERE THEY BECAME CHAMPIONS NATIONAL, AND PRIMO JAPAN'S TOP-DRAW CHAMPIONS, BY DEFEATING THE LEGENDARY TEAM OF BRICE BULLSTRONG AND PANK PRICHARD. ONCE AGAIN THEY WERE ON TOP OF THE HILL WHEN THEY FOUND THEMSELVES COSTA RICAN TAG CHAMPIONS VIA, A NO-CONTEST STIPULATION IN THE CHAMPIONS CONTRACT, WHEN THE CHAMPIONS REFUSED TO DEFEND THE TITLE THE CHAMPIONSHIP COMMITY NAMED THE NUMBER ONE CONTENDERS THE NEW CHAMPIONS, ONCE THE TITLES WERE STRIPPED FROM THE CHAMPIONS,U-OLE, PULLED THE MASKED LUCHADOR INTO THE RING AND PINNED HIM, THIS CEMENTED THE REIGN, AND EVEN THE LOSSED CHAMPIONS GAVE CONGRADES TO THE NEW CHAMPIONS. 
     WE DON'T KNOW IF IT'S TRUE OR NOT, BUT THE APPEARANCE OF A NEW TEAM IN THE HIGHLY POPULAR WORLD BRAND RASSLIN, COMPANY NAMED THE DUO NUMBER FOUR IN THEIR INTERNATIONAL SERIES ( A TAGTEAM TOURNAMENT) BUT THE OPPOSING SIDE HAD A NEW TAGTEAM NAMED " RIVERRATTS" (PANINI PRESTON ANDAUX AMANDES ) WHO RESEMBLED THE COSTA RICAIN DUO. WORLD REKNBOWNED GRAPPLER, CUSSIN PAGE, CALLED OUT BOTH TEAMS TO GET TO THE BOTTOM OF THE SITUATION, BUT ONE TEAM DESIDED TO JOKE AROUND, AND SENT OUT TWO WOMEN DRESSED AS MEN IN MASKED TO ANWSER THE CHALLENGE. FORTUNATLY FOR THE FANS THE RIVERRATS RECORDED THE ANWSER TO THE CHALLENGE EALIER, THEY ACSEPTED THE CHALLENGE, AND THE MATCH WAS MADE FOR HOUSE SHOW PRIOR TO THE MAINEVENT TELEVISION EVENT. WE DON'T KNOW WHO THESE GUY'S ARE BUT WE CAN'T WAIT TO SEE WHAT THESE PEOPLE HAVE TO SAY,

Rubrikain

Rubrikain!

My chest tightens as I find myself without an umbrella. The wind in my face is refreshing. 

My hands are cold and I'm holding them on my chest as if I'm desperately trying to draw more air into them. 

I feel the rain on my cheek, and I keep my head up, but it's only sprinkling. My backpack is gone;  I was too distracted by my friend's thick voice to pay attention. With each downpour I walk more closely 
with the trees and the rain keeps falling. There's an unearthly glow around me, much like the gash I made in the sky. The air is thick, and my body seems to move in slow motion. I keep getting closer to the storm. 

As I approach the beach I realize I don't have an umbrella, which is okay since I don't have any friends. 

I see the rows of umbrellas attached to random people who are in such a hurry to get where they're going that they don't realize that a hurricane has hit. As I stand next to them I realize how utterly alone I am in my life. I am nothing without you. I feel helpless, like I am in this storm alone. I stand next to you until you finally notice me and look over at me. The rain is falling harder, and I see the ground is beginning to swell. You ask me what I'm doing, but before I can answer you step back and turn your back to me. 

After a few seconds, you turn to me again, but this time your face is tear-stained. You open your arms for a hug, and I walk into them. The world around us, while still extremely wet, stops moving. I'm in your arms as the water floods through our t-shirts and seeps into our skin. It's cold, but we stay in the puddle, arms wrapped around each other, until the storm ends. We break away from the hug and look at each other in the ocean of tears 
that were once covering your face. You smile and lean in to kiss my my forehead. You smile and tell me I should have asked if I could come with you. Your embrace was everything I could ever hope for. There are no other words to describe it.

Oh Rubrikain!  

I kiss your forehead. It's a goodbye kiss. You open your eyes and smile. You make a big gulping noise, and throw yourself into the ocean. The water covers me and I begin to sink with you into the abyss. I hope that you'll find your way back to me. Follow You open your arms for a hug, and I walk into them. 

The world around us, while still extremely wet, I knew .

:: 03.05.2022 ::\

Camp E-How-Kee

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By
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Camp E-How-Kee.
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Camp E-How-Kee
as a child
had it's dark side as well.

Paul Butler is doing life
for robbery
i know.
He was black and seemed
like a nice kid back then,
he was the token
in our small group of whites
with him it numbered ten.

Fat Jack..Jack Thomas
died
in Florida state prison.

George Walker abused by
his father,
Sexually, psychologically and
physically life a living hell.
kicked in the face by Chief Snell.
He may have weighted
seventy pounds soaking wet
five foot one perhaps.
While Chief Snell,
wearing size thirteen and standing
six foot eleven in bare socks.
Kicked him in his face one early morn.

George in and out prison as well
perhaps by now, 'maybe dead.
He had courage.

Robert Sykes, whom wet the bed
every night.
Lord only knows,
the demons and monsters,
inside of his head.
The abuse that he suffered at home
was his fault we all now know
but a child as well.

is he alive..Amen.

The boy with the epileptic seizures
so bad
I remember his name..
as Dwayne Robinson..he shook and he
screamed all night..
putting the pillow over his head.

While the counselor poured buckets
of cold water on him.
Screaming be quite.
where was 'God'..then..

Must I go on..yes I will.
All of us between eleven and twelve.
Maybe one was thirteen..
mighty frontiersman were we.

Angels, were we heavens know, 'no.
being allowed to use axes
and draw knives
we kept pocket knives to do our work.

And Wally Otting was like Frank...
Michael Berro...
none thinking back then were like I..
When it got to bad
I would take most away in the middle
of the night to escape..
what we thought we escaped when it was
we left our homes.

Most would not listen and then get caught
I always made it back home fifty miles
of eating berries or nothing at all..
just to be sent back again.

Delila after dark..this was then...
you were a tender Ronnie and
I was a boy of twelve..with no
moss or beard..
and my parts even then were coveted
by others as well..

This is my confession for them..
Donna Black...H.C.S.D.
Doing this to us was what..........and
where is Gary Anderson?

What could a child, 'i have done back then
but i tried, as
One group of five made up of tens.
Form: Bio

Premium Member A Prayer for Texas Flood of Tears


                My heart is broken for our dear Texan dears

                                     Happy campers 

                             Then flash flood washed way 

                                      in earth's tears


                     Words escape me as I write my heart

            That grieves with you whose hearts are torn apart

             
                    The yellow rose of each precious soul

              A childhood dream was summer camp's goal 

                    And oh, the glorious Fourth of July

               Turned from delight to "Oh, Dear God, why?"

              
                     What words could I lend to each of you

                       I pray that God will see you through

                         In tears I reach across the miles 

                    That somehow God would gift you smiles

                        Of those who now in heaven's wake

                     Above the heartache's of sorrow's quake

                          Gaze in glorious wonder and awe

                       At Christ Himself and angels they saw

                       Far beyond earth's pain and deception

                       The safe Haven of Heaven's purest joy

                                          and elation


                      Father God, comfort dear Texas tonight

                               Give them heavenly visions

                                God, hold each soul tight

                      In Heavenly Father's sweet loving arms

                          Above sorrow and pain and earths 
       
                                   Flash flooding harms


                            Please hold them dear Father, 

                               All those mourning here

                            Give them comforting visions

                                Holy Spirit, draw near

              
                        Far above sorrow of valley and glen

                            Our prayers reach to heaven

                                    Again, and again

                              I pray Thee, send comfort

                                  In Your Name Lord                                 

                                            Amen
Form: Rhyme

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