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Short Poetry by Popular Famous Poets

 Poet
1 William Wordsworth
2 Emily Dickinson
3 William Shakespeare
4 Maya Angelou
5 Langston Hughes
6 Robert Frost
7 Walt Whitman
8 Rabindranath Tagore
9 Shel Silverstein
10 William Blake
11 Pablo Neruda
12 Sylvia Plath
13 Edward Estlin (E E) Cummings
14 William Butler Yeats
15 Tupac Shakur
16 Oscar Wilde
17 Rudyard Kipling
18 Alfred Lord Tennyson
19 Sandra Cisneros
20 Alice Walker
21 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
22 Billy Collins
23 Christina Rossetti
24 Carol Ann Duffy
25 Charles Bukowski
26 Edgar Allan Poe
27 Sarojini Naidu
28 John Donne
29 Ralph Waldo Emerson
30 Nikki Giovanni
31 John Keats
32 Raymond Carver
33 Mark Twain
34 Thomas Hardy
35 Anne Sexton
36 Lewis Carroll
37 Elizabeth Barrett Browning
38 Gary Soto
39 Carl Sandburg
40 Alexander Pushkin
41 Gwendolyn Brooks
42 Henry David Thoreau
43 George (Lord) Byron
44 Spike Milligan
45 Margaret Atwood
46 Muhammad Ali
47 Roger McGough
48 Sara Teasdale
49 Jane Austen
50 Allen Ginsberg
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Famous Short Horror Poems

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

Other Short Poem Pages

Horror | Short Famous Poems and Poets

 
by Omar Khayyam

In the mosque, in the medresseh (school annexed to

In the mosque, in the medresseh [school annexed to
the mosque], in the church, and in the synagogue, they
have a horror of Hell and seek for Paradise, but the seed
of such disquiet never germinates in the hearts of those
who penetrate the secrets of the All-Powerful.


by Emily Dickinson

Two Lengths has every Day --

 Two Lengths has every Day --
Its absolute extent
And Area superior
By Hope or Horror lent --

Eternity will be
Velocity or Pause
At Fundamental Signals
From Fundamental Laws.
To die is not to go -- On Doom's consummate Chart No Territory new is staked -- Remain thou as thou art.


by Emily Dickinson

What Soft -- Cherubic Creatures

 What Soft -- Cherubic Creatures --
These Gentlewomen are --
One would as soon assault a Plush --
Or violate a Star --

Such Dimity Convictions --
A Horror so refined
Of freckled Human Nature --
Of Deity -- ashamed --

It's such a common -- Glory --
A Fisherman's -- Degree --
Redemption -- Brittle Lady --
Be so -- ashamed of Thee --


by Siegfried Sassoon

Everyone Sang

 Everyone suddenly burst out singing;
And I was filled with such delight
As prisoned birds must find in freedom,
Winging wildly across the white
Orchards and dark-green fields; on--on--and out of sight.
Everyone's voice was suddenly lifted; And beauty came like the setting sun: My heart was shaken with tears; and horror Drifted away .
.
.
O, but Everyone Was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done.


by Emily Dickinson

The Loneliness One dare not sound --

 The Loneliness One dare not sound --
And would as soon surmise
As in its Grave go plumbing
To ascertain the size --

The Loneliness whose worst alarm
Is lest itself should see --
And perish from before itself
For just a scrutiny --

The Horror not to be surveyed --
But skirted in the Dark --
With Consciousness suspended --
And Being under Lock --

I fear me this -- is Loneliness --
The Maker of the soul
Its Caverns and its Corridors
Illuminate -- or seal --


by Robert Burns

528. Song—On Chloris being ill

 Chorus—Long, long the night,
 Heavy comes the morrow
While my soul’s delight
 Is on her bed of sorrow.
CAN I cease to care? Can I cease to languish, While my darling Fair Is on the couch of anguish? Long, long, &c.
Ev’ry hope is fled, Ev’ry fear is terror, Slumber ev’n I dread, Ev’ry dream is horror.
Long, long, &c.
Hear me, Powers Divine! Oh, in pity, hear me! Take aught else of mine, But my Chloris spare me! Long, long, &c.


by Emily Dickinson

That after Horror -- that twas us

 That after Horror -- that 'twas us --
That passed the mouldering Pier --
Just as the Granite Crumb let go --
Our Savior, by a Hair --

A second more, had dropped too deep
For Fisherman to plumb --
The very profile of the Thought
Puts Recollection numb --

The possibility -- to pass
Without a Moment's Bell --
Into Conjecture's presence --
Is like a Face of Steel --
That suddenly looks into ours
With a metallic grin --
The Cordiality of Death --
Who drills his Welcome in --


by Thomas Edward Brown

Dora

 SHE knelt upon her brother's grave, 
 My little girl of six years old-- 
He used to be so good and brave, 
 The sweetest lamb of all our fold; 
He used to shout, he used to sing, 
Of all our tribe the little king-- 
And so unto the turf her ear she laid, 
To hark if still in that dark place he play'd.
No sound! no sound! Death's silence was profound; And horror crept Into her aching heart, and Dora wept.
If this is as it ought to be, My God, I leave it unto Thee.