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Famous Short Desire Poems

Famous Short Desire Poems. Short Desire Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Desire short poems

Other Short Poem Pages

More great short poems below.

Desire | Short Famous Poems and Poets

by Walt Whitman

To You.

 STRANGER! if you, passing, meet me, and desire to speak to me, why should you
 not speak to me? 
And why should I not speak to you?

by Paul Laurence Dunbar


 "I am but clay," the sinner plead, 
Who fed each vain desire.
"Not only clay," another said, "But worse, for thou art mire.

by Friedrich von Schiller

Love And Desire

 Rightly said, Schlosser! Man loves what he has; what he has not, desireth;
None but the wealthy minds love; poor minds desire alone.

by William Blake

The Question Answered

 What is it men in women do require?
The lineaments of gratified Desire.
What is it women do in men require? The lineaments of gratified Desire

by Robert Herrick


 Julia, if I chance to die
Ere I print my poetry,
I most humbly thee desire
To commit it to the fire:
Better 'twere my book were dead,
Than to live not perfected.

by Robert Herrick


 I dare not ask a kiss,
I dare not beg a smile;
Lest having that, or this,
I might grow proud the while.
No, no, the utmost share Of my desire shall be, Only to kiss that air That lately kissed thee,

by Emily Dickinson

So proud she was to die

 So proud she was to die
It made us all ashamed
That what we cherished, so unknown
To her desire seemed --
So satisfied to go
Where none of us should be
Immediately -- that Anguish stooped
Almost to Jealousy --

by Langston Hughes


 The gold moth did not love him
So, gorgeous, she flew away.
But the gray moth circled the flame Until the break of day.
And then, with wings like a dead desire, She fell, fire-caught, into the flame.

by Suheir Hammad


 his approach 
to love he said
was that of a farmer
most love like
hunters and like
hunters most kill
what they desire
he tills
soil through toes
nose in the wet
earth he waits
prays to the gods
and slowly harvests
ever thankful

by Emily Dickinson

I cannot meet the Spring unmoved --

 I cannot meet the Spring unmoved --
I feel the old desire --
A Hurry with a lingering, mixed,
A Warrant to be fair --

A Competition in my sense
With something hid in Her --
And as she vanishes, Remorse
I saw no more of Her.

by Dejan Stojanovic

End of the Labyrinth

He tries to find the exit 
From himself 
But there is no door.
He walks Through the inner labyrinth To deceive his desire.
Perhaps there is an entrance At the end of the labyrinth But there is no end.

by Emily Dickinson

Who never wanted -- maddest Joy

 Who never wanted -- maddest Joy
Remains to him unknown --
The Banquet of Abstemiousness
Defaces that of Wine --

Within its reach, though yet ungrasped
Desire's perfect Goal --
No nearer -- lest the Actual --
Should disentrall thy soul --

by Emily Dickinson

Heaven is so far of the Mind

 Heaven is so far of the Mind
That were the Mind dissolved --
The Site -- of it -- by Architect
Could not again be proved --

'Tis vast -- as our Capacity --
As fair -- as our idea --
To Him of adequate desire
No further 'tis, than Here --

by Vasko Popa

Give Me Back My Rags #1

 Give me back my rags

My rags of pure dreaming
Of silk smiling of striped foreboding
Of my cloth of lace

My rags of spotted hope
Of burnished desire of chequered glances
Of skin from my face

Give me back my rags
Give me when I ask you nicely

by Robert Frost

Fire and Ice

 Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favour fire.
But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To say that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice.

by Robert Burns

358. A Grace after Dinner

 O THOU, in whom we live and move—
 Who made the sea and shore;
Thy goodness constantly we prove,
 And grateful would adore;
And, if it please Thee, Power above!
 Still grant us, with such store,
The friend we trust, the fair we love—
 And we desire no more.

by Sara Teasdale

After Parting

 Oh, I have sown my love so wide
 That he will find it everywhere;
It will awake him in the night,
 It will enfold him in the air.
I set my shadow in his sight And I have winged it with desire, That it may be a cloud by day, And in the night a shaft of fire.

by Dimitris P Kraniotis

The end

 The savour of fruits
still remains
in my mouth,
but the bitterness of words
demolishes the clouds
and wrings the snow
counting the pebbles.
But you never told me why you deceived me, why with pain and injustice did you desire to say that the end always in tears is cast to flames.

by William Strode

On Chloris Standing By The Fire

 Faire Chloris, standing by the Fire,
An amorous coale with hot desire
Leapt on her breast, but could not melt
The chaste snow there--which when it felt
For shame it blusht; and then it died
There where resistance did abide,
And lest she should take it unkind
Repentant ashes left behind.

by Thomas Hardy

At a Hasty Wedding

 If hours be years the twain are blest, 
For now they solace swift desire 
By bonds of every bond the best, 
If hours be years.
The twain are blest Do eastern stars slope never west, Nor pallid ashes follow fire: If hours be years the twain are blest, For now they solace swift desire.

by William Blake

Ah! Sun-Flower

 Ah Sun-flower! weary of time.
Who countest the steps of the Sun; Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the travellers journey is done.
Where the Youth pined away with desire, And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow: Arise from their graves and aspire.
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.

by Laurence Binyon

Nothing is enough!

 No, though our all be spent-- 
Heart's extremest love, 
Spirit's whole intent, 
All that nerve can feel, 
All that brain invent,-- 
Still beyond appeal 
Will Divine Desire 
Yet more excellent 
Precious cost require 
Of this mortal stuff,-- 
Never be content 
Till ourselves be fire.
Nothing is enough!

by William Butler Yeats

That The Night Come

 She lived in storm and strife,
Her soul had such desire
For what proud death may bring
That it could not endure
The common good of life,
But lived as 'twere a king
That packed his marriage day
With banneret and pennon,
Trumpet and kettledrum,
And the outrageous cannon,
To bundle time away
That the night come.

by Dejan Stojanovic

The Source

There is substance beyond substance, 
A mind beyond matter; 
It grows from itself, 
Follows its own path 
Fed only by the desire to live.
That's how matter is born, How the first poet sings the shamanic song, How he romances nothingness With the flower of the mind Springing out from its source.

by Constantine P Cavafy


 Return often and take me,
beloved sensation, return and take me --
when the memory of the body awakens,
and an old desire runs again through the blood;
when the lips and the skin remember,
and the hands feel as if they touch again.
Return often and take me at night, when the lips and the skin remember.