Alone Poems | Poemist

Popular Alone Poems

Life Is A Privilege

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Life is a privilege. Its youthful days
Shine with the radiance of continuous Mays.
To live, to breathe, to wonder and desire,
To feed with dreams the heart’s perpetual fire,
To thrill with virtuous passions, and to glow
With great ambitions – in one hour to know
The depths and heights of feeling – God! in truth,
How beautiful, how beautiful is youth!

Life is a privilege. Like some rare rose

......

The Law

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The sun may be clouded, yet ever the sun
Will sweep on its course till the cycle is run.
And when onto chaos the systems are hurled,
Again shall the Builder reshape a new world.

Your path may be clouded, uncertain your goal;
Move on, for the orbit is fixed for your soul.
And though it may lead into darkness of night,
The torch of the Builder shall give you new light.

......

The Law Of The Yukon

by Robert William Service

This is the law of the Yukon, and ever she makes it plain:
"Send not your foolish and feeble; send me your strong and your sane --
Strong for the red rage of battle; sane for I harry them sore;
Send me men girt for the combat, men who are grit to the core;
Swift as the panther in triumph, fierce as the bear in defeat,
Sired of a bulldog parent, steeled in the furnace heat.
Send me the best of your breeding, lend me your chosen ones;
Them will I take to my bosom, them will I call my sons;
Them will I gild with my treasure, them will I glut with my meat;
But the others -- the misfits, the failures -- I trample under my feet.

......

Norman And Saxon

by Rudyard Kipling

My son," said the Norman Baron, "I am dying, and you will be heir
To all the broad acres in England that William gave me for my share
When we conquered the Saxon at Hastings, and a nice little handful it is.
But before you go over to rule it I want you to understand this:—

"The Saxon is not like us Normans, His manners are not so polite.
But he never means anything serious till he talks about justice and right.
When he stands like an ox in the furrow with his sullen set eyes on your own,
And grumbles, "This isn't fair dealings," my son, leave the Saxon alone.

......

The Shooting Of Dan Mcgrew

by Robert William Service

A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;
The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a jag-time tune;
Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that's known as Lou.

When out of the night, which was fifty below, and into the din and the glare,
There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks, dog-dirty, and loaded for bear.
He looked like a man with a foot in the grave and scarcely the strength of a louse,
Yet he tilted a poke of dust on the bar, and he called for drinks for the house.
There was none could place the stranger's face, though we searched ourselves for a clue;

......

Recent Alone Poems

alliens and the you---fff--word--oez

by atef ayadi

it is true, we are all aliens
to each other and
the way it sounds, to the planet
that we emerged alive alike from.

oh the jews
the jews
oh the muslim muslims
oh the martian haitian who eats
dogs like "chinese" do

......

we are blessed by the dead : remembering old friends

by Ella Sophia

a poet who had a life one envied
writing , scattering , scribbling
on papers with words only she
can understand

paragraphs unwritten —
only learned-off by mind ;
sick , sitting still , thinking
what life really means

......

femme fatale

by Ella Sophia

she must be whom everyone wanted
they cry in front of her
, begging
their knees bleeding
through pleading
from something they knew
they cannot get

grey clouds fits the tears they all left
in the middle of the dance floor

......

Anxiety, Hyperventilation

by Nad Sof

"Panic attack," they say.
Is this it?
I whisper, my voice shaking.

I know it’s just in my head,
Everything’s fine.
But then, my heart races—
A drum I can’t outrun.
I flee to the bathroom,
Lock myself in a stall,

......

Unrelatable

by Falling Awake

By learning you, I’m deceiving me,
As common ground sprouts unfound knowing…
But how can I find you relatable?
When I can only see what’s showing?

The limits of your introspection
Prevent you from learning your own brain,
While your narrow means of expression
Dictates the parts you share and explain

......