Hope Poems | Poemist

Popular Hope Poems

Saturday At The Canal

by Gary Soto

I was hoping to be happy by seventeen.
School was a sharp check mark in the roll book,
An obnoxious tuba playing at noon because our team
Was going to win at night. The teachers were
Too close to dying to understand. The hallways
Stank of poor grades and unwashed hair. Thus,
A friend and I sat watching the water on Saturday,
Neither of us talking much, just warming ourselves
By hurling large rocks at the dusty ground
And feeling awful because San Francisco was a postcard

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Ode to Hope

by Pablo Neruda

Oceanic dawn
at the center
of my life,
waves like grapes,
the sky's solitude,
you fill me
and flood
the complete sea,
the undiminished sky,
tempo

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Here Follows Some Verses Upon The Burning Of Our House

by Anne Bradstreet

In silent night when rest I took
For sorrow near I did not look
I waked was with thund'ring noise
And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice.
That fearful sound of "Fire!" and "Fire!"
Let no man know is my desire.
I, starting up, the light did spy,
And to my God my heart did cry
To strengthen me in my distress
And not to leave me succorless.

......

Ripley

by Henry Timrod

Rich in red honors, that upon him lie
As lightly as the Summer dews
Fall where he won his fame beneath the sky
Of tropic Vera Cruz;

Bold scorner of the cant that has its birth
In feeble or in failing powers;
A lover of all frank and genial mirth
That wreathes the sword with flowers;

......

The Painted Ceiling

by Amy Lowell

My Grandpapa lives in a wonderful house
With a great many windows and doors,
There are stairs that go up, and stairs that go down,
And such beautiful, slippery floors.

But of all of the rooms, even mother's and mine,
And the bookroom, and parlour and all,
I like the green dining-room so much the best
Because of its ceiling and wall.

......

Recent Hope Poems

Love: Uniting Grace

by Ayatullah Nurjati

Love is the light of the Almighty,
Rising softly in the heart, greeting the soul,
Flowing like a river in the valley of life,
Bringing hope to life amidst despair.

It is present without form, but felt,
Erasing wounds, stringing together hopes,
Uniting souls that were once separated,
In the arms of love that never tires.

......

Hollow

by Rens Buikman

I tried to run, escaping the trees
but the forest was alive behind me
pulling on me fast, like shadows under the sun
finally, I paused, and unconsciously started crying like a firing gun

the tangled roots beneath my feet
started to consume me whole
how very grateful can one be
for finally losing all control

......

76. Cadence

by Kea Campbell

I respect peaceful protests, and I favor their persistence.
They courageously speak for me and every other silenced victim.
Only few survivors parade while the rest of us stay unknown,
Because the system consists of what's easiest for the majority by declaring our situations overblown.
The most comforting feeling is having control over what you portray,
But unfortunately for the innocent, villains thrive on inducing oppressive disarray.

The world shouldn't be black and white because life flourishes in the gray,
Never conclude that your sentiment presents the only insightful say.
I encourage you to find your voice and don't shy away from fears and afraids,

......

74. Sparks

by Kea Campbell

January 1st is coming up, and I'm still stuck on that night in July.
You watched the fireworks in the sky, and I watched them from your eyes.
Your arm was wrapped around mine, and even between us were sparks that fly.

Color flushed from my face while my heart pounded through my chest.
All I could hear was the sound of my lungs grasping for a breath.
I would do anything to be in that moment once again, and I would give everything to have more than the title of just friends.

In 7 days, 2025 will begin, but if had one wish to be conferred, it would be to redo that warm night in July on the third.
Instead of re-losing the battle to my cowardice, I imagine my confidence leans in for a kiss.

......

65. Chronology's Replica

by Kea Campbell

When I was younger, I feared mirrors and darkness.
I feared the characters from horror films and the mutations they could harness.
I kept my head above the covers so I could witness my fated farewell.
Yet all I ever saw was the refute of my imagination’s creatures from hell.

We met during the race, and I slowed my pace to talk.
But running turned to walking, and we both reached a halt.
We regressed and recurred back to classical autonomy.
The Devil won this stretch, and I’m at a loss in my spiritual odyssey.

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