Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.


You have an ad blocker! We understand, but...

PoetrySoup is a small privately owned website. Our means of support comes from advertising revenue. We want to keep PoetrySoup alive, make it better, and keep it free. Please support us by disabling your ad blocker on PoetrySoup. See how to enable ads while keeping your ad blocker active. Also, did you know you can become a PoetrySoup Lifetime Premium Member and block ads forever...while getting many more great features. Take a look! Thank you!

An Apology for the Bottle Volcanic

by
 Sometimes I dip my pen and find the bottle full of fire, 
The salamanders flying forth I cannot but admire.
It's Etna, or Vesuvius, if those big things were small, And then 'tis but itself again, and does not smoke at all.
And so my blood grows cold.
I say, "The bottle held but ink, And, if you thought it otherwise, the worser for your think.
" And then, just as I throw my scribbled paper on the floor, The bottle says, "Fe, fi, fo, fum," and steams and shouts some more.
O sad deceiving ink, as bad as liquor in its way— All demons of a bottle size have pranced from you to-day, And seized my pen for hobby-horse as witches ride a broom, And left a trail of brimstone words and blots and gobs of gloom.
And yet when I am extra good and say my prayers at night, And mind my ma, and do the chores, and speak to folks polite, My bottle spreads a rainbow-mist, and from the vapor fine Ten thousand troops from fairyland come riding in a line.
I've seen them on their chargers race around my study chair, They opened wide the window and rode forth upon the air.
The army widened as it went, and into myriads grew, O how the lances shimmered, how the silvery trumpets blew!

Poem by
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - An Apology for the Bottle VolcanicEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...


Top Vachel Lindsay Poems

Analysis and Comments on An Apology for the Bottle Volcanic

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem An Apology for the Bottle Volcanic here.