Success Poems | Poemist

Popular Success Poems

The Geebung Polo Club

by Banjo Paterson

It was somewhere up the country, in a land of rock and scrub,
That they formed an institution called the Geebung Polo Club.
They were long and wiry natives from the rugged mountain side,
And the horse was never saddled that the Geebungs couldn't ride;
But their style of playing polo was irregular and rash --
They had mighty little science, but a mighty lot of dash:
And they played on mountain ponies that were muscular and strong,
Though their coats were quite unpolished,
and their manes and tails were long.
And they used to train those ponies wheeling cattle in the scrub:

......

Stein 100: A Feather Likeness Of The Justice Chair

by Jackson Mac Low

A feather table: reckless gratitude.
It is that-there that means best.

White the green grinding trimming thing!
The disgrace, like stripes.
More selection, slighter intention.

Rosewood stationing is use journey: curious dusty empty length.
Winged cake: the cake, the plan that neglects to make color certainly.
Time long could winter: elegant consequences monstrous.

......

Success Is Counted Sweetest

by Emily Dickinson

Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple Host
Who took the Flag today
Can tell the definition
So clear of Victory

......

The Heatherblend Club Banquet

by William Topaz McGonagall

'Twas on the 16th of October, in the year 1894,
I was invited to Inverness, not far from the sea shore,
To partake of a banquet prepared by the Heatherblend Club,
Gentlemen who honoured me without any hubbub.

The banquet was held in the Gellion Hotel,
And the landlord, Mr Macpherson, treated me right well;
Also the servant maids were very kind to me,
Especially the girl that polished my boots, most beautiful to see.

......

Page 34 / If Your Complexion Is A Mess

by Harryette Mullen

if your complexion is a mess
our elixir spells skin success
you'll have appeal bewitch be adored
hechizando con crema dermoblanqueadora

what we sell is enlightenment
nothing less than beauty itself
since when can be seen in the dark
what shines hidden in dirt

......

Recent Success Poems

I do not fit

by Gareth Roe

I do not fit in the organised world.
Where schedules plot our fate.
Where that will be this and this will be that.
Where heads screwed on straight hail the great bureaucrat.
Where the future that's served is a diet of dates.

—

Now dates can be helpful and dates have their place.
The same can be said for time slots and blocks.

......

The Topmost Peak

by Jiya Doshi

The Topmost Peak

A blur of golden,
hazy yet stimulating,
makes vanish all my burden,
its effect forever lingering.
A foot apart,
And I will possess it in my heart.
a bit ahead,
I do not a bit dread,

......

Truth of Touch

by Nimesh Bhandari

Weave your experience, to script the beautiful future,
Let the strings play, In harmony with your past,
Simple and Astounding, Lovable and Adorable,
Memorable and pleasurable, Like a painting on the wall,
With Reflections of passions, and Impatience of Success,
But with a touch of candor, and softness of persistence,
When you know you have, the morning has arrived,
Strike the right chord, It is the Truth of Touch

My Dream

by Nimesh Bhandari

Dream weaves like a music in my life,
My 'Self' rises in its aspiration,
The burning desire causes its precipitation.

Like a formless cloud it starts engulfing me,
I start sailing along, with the hope it will find its home,
When it will rain to spread the greenery all around.

But it will have to pass the muster of Sun's heat,
Where it can burst during its incubation,

......

Firefly

by Awwab Paracha

The firefly in my soul is burning my body. It makes me run until I'm near death, then gives me a few seconds to catch my breath. Then, chop-chop, back to the hustle! Again. The six strings become my entire world as I get lost in the web of possibilities that are just aching to be realized, be seen, and be heard. My words melt onto the page, taking form as the led of my pencil turns into liquid gold that bleeds out of my pores when I cry. I want to cry. I need to cry. I want my tears to turn into lines that form sentences that stab people's hearts like the spear of lightning that was birthed in the caves of Zeus's fingerprints. I want my fingerprints to be remembered. I want my sentences to be kept in a museum beside those ancient teapots that were used by some fat king. I want my six strings to become someone's entire world, their entire universe. I wanna be famous. I want to play with my life. I wanna destroy it and bring it back with the help of my firefly. This firefly runs through my veins faster than my blood, faster than my pain, faster than my joy, and faster than... me. It is my desire and my friend. It is my desire to be a friend. It is my poison and my medicine. It is everything. I love my firefly.