Famous Abuse Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Abuse poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous abuse poems. These examples illustrate what a famous abuse poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

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Sonnet XLII

by William Shakespeare
 That thou hast her, it is not all my grief,
And yet it may be said I loved her dearly;
That she hath thee, is of my wailing chief,
A loss in love that touches me more nearly.
Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye:
Thou dost love her, because thou knowst I love her;
And for my sake even so doth she abuse me,
Suffering...Read more of this...

Doors Doors Doors

by Anne Sexton
 1. Old Man

Old man, it's four flights up and for what?
Your room is hardly bigger than your bed.
Puffing as you climb, you are a brown woodcut
stooped over the thin tail and the wornout tread.

The room will do. All that's left of the old life
is jampacked on shelves from floor to ceiling
like a supermarket: your books, your dead wife
generously fat...Read more of this...

Sonnet IV

by William Shakespeare
 Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
Upon thyself thy beauty's legacy?
Nature's bequest gives nothing but doth lend,
And being frank she lends to those are free.
Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse
The bounteous largess given thee to give?
Profitless usurer, why dost thou use
So great a sum of sums, yet canst not live?
For having traffic with thyself alone,
Thou of thyself thy sweet...Read more of this...

A Bonus

by Elizabeth Smart
 That day i finished
A small piece
For an obscure magazine
I popped it in the box

And such a starry elation
Came over me
That I got whistled at in the street
For the first time in a long time.

I was dirty and roughly dressed
And had circles under my eyes
And far far from flirtation
But so full of completion
Of a deed duly done
An act of consummation
That...Read more of this...

Psalm 89 part 5

by Isaac Watts
 v.30ff 
C. M.
The covenant of grace unchangeable.

"Yet," saith the Lord, "if David's race,
The children of my Son,
Should break my laws, abuse my grace,
And tempt mine anger down;

"Their sins I'll visit with the rod
And make their folly smart;
But I'll not cease to be their God,
Nor from my truth depart.

"My cov'nant I will ne'er revoke,
But keep my grace in mind
And what...Read more of this...

Abuse of the Gospel

by William Cowper
 Too many, Lord, abuse Thy grace
In this licentious day,
And while they boast they see Thy face,
They turn their own away.

Thy book displays a gracious light
That can the blind restore;
But these are dazzled by the sight,
And blinded still the more.

The pardon such presume upon,
They do not beg but steal;
And when they plead it at Thy throne,
Oh! where's the Spirit's seal?

Was...Read more of this...

Sonnet 4: Unthrifty loveliness why dost thou spend

by William Shakespeare
 Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
Upon thy self thy beauty's legacy?
Nature's bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,
And being frank she lends to those are free.
Then, beauteous niggard why dost thou abuse,
The bounteous largess given thee to give?
Profitless usurer, why dost thou use
So great a sum of sums yet canst not live?
For having traffic with thyself alone,
Thou of thyself thy...Read more of this...

The Poor Mans Lamb

by Anne Kingsmill Finch
 NOW spent the alter'd King, in am'rous Cares, 
The Hours of sacred Hymns and solemn Pray'rs: 
In vain the Alter waits his slow returns, 
Where unattended Incense faintly burns: 
In vain the whisp'ring Priests their Fears express, 
And of the Change a thousand Causes guess. 
Heedless of all their Censures He retires, 
And in his Palace feeds his secret...Read more of this...

The Ballad Of Pious Pete

by Robert William Service
 "The North has got him." --Yukonism.


I tried to refine that neighbor of mine, honest to God, I did.
I grieved for his fate, and early and late I watched over him like a kid.
I gave him excuse, I bore his abuse in every way that I could;
I swore to prevail; I camped on his trail; I plotted and planned for...Read more of this...

Sonnet (II)

by George Herbert
 Sure Lord, there is enough in thee to dry 
Oceans of Ink ; for, as the Deluge did 
Cover the Earth, so doth thy Majesty : 
Each Cloud distills thy praise, and doth forbid 
Poets to turn it to another use. 
Roses and Lillies speak thee ; and to make 
A pair of Cheeks of them, is thy abuse....Read more of this...

A Ramble in St. Jamess Park

by John Wilmot
 Much wine had passed, with grave discourse
Of who fucks who, and who does worse
(Such as you usually do hear
From those that diet at the Bear),
When I, who still take care to see
Drunkenness relieved by lechery,
Went out into St. James's Park
To cool my head and fire my heart.
But though St. James has th' honor on 't,
'Tis consecrate to prick and...Read more of this...

Hymn 55

by Isaac Watts
 Hezekiah's song; or, Sickness and recovery.

Isa. 38:9ff. 

When we are raised from deep distress,
Our God deserves a song;
We take the pattern of our praise
From Hezekiah's tongue.

The gates of the devouring grave
Are opened wide in vain,
If he that holds the keys of death
Commands them fast again.

Pains of the flesh are wont t' abuse
Our minds with slavish fears:
"Our days are past,...Read more of this...

Master Hugues Of Saxe-Gotha

by Robert Browning
 An imaginary composer.]

I.

Hist, but a word, fair and soft!
Forth and be judged, Master Hugues!
Answer the question I've put you so oft:
What do you mean by your mountainous fugues?
See, we're alone in the loft,---

II.

I, the poor organist here,
Hugues, the composer of note,
Dead though, and done with, this many a year:
Let's have a colloquy, something to quote,
Make the world prick up...Read more of this...

To my Muse

by Ben Jonson
LXV. — TO MY MUSE. Away, and leave me, thou thing most abhorr'd That hast betray'd me to a worthless lord ; Made me commit most fierce idolatry To a great image through thy luxury : Be thy next master's more unlucky muse, And, as thou'st mine, his hours and youth abuse, Get him the time's long grudge, the court's ill...Read more of this...

Two Little Boots

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Two little boots all rough an' wo',
Two little boots!
Law, I 's kissed 'em times befo',
Dese little boots!
Seems de toes a-peepin' thoo
Dis hyeah hole an' sayin' "Boo!"
Evah time dey looks at you—
Dese little boots.
Membah de time he put 'em on,
Dese little boots;
Riz an' called fu' 'em by dawn,
Dese little boots;
Den he tromped de livelong day,
Laffin' in his happy way,
Evaht'ing he had...Read more of this...

The world is full of double beds

by Hilaire Belloc
 The world is full of double beds
And most delightful maidenheads, 
Which being so, there’s no excuse
For sodomy of self-abuse....Read more of this...

Trying To Write

by Elizabeth Smart
 That day i finished
A small piece
For an obscure magazine
I popped it in the box

And such a starry elation
Came over me
That I got whistled at in the street
For the first time in a long time.

I was dirty and roughly dressed
And had circles under my eyes
And far far from flirtation
But so full of completion
Of a deed duly done
An act of consummation
That...Read more of this...

Abuses And Awards

by Andrei Voznesensky
 A poet can't be in disfavour, 
 he needs no awards, no fame. 
 A star has no setting whatever, 
 no black nor a golden frame. 

 A star can't be killed with a stone, or 
 award, or that kind of stuff. 
 He'll bear the blow of a fawner 
 lamenting he's not big enough. 

...Read more of this...

The Christmas Goose

by William Topaz McGonagall
 Mr. Smiggs was a gentleman,
And he lived in London town;
His wife she was a good kind soul,
And seldom known to frown. 

'Twas on Christmas eve,
And Smiggs and his wife lay cosy in bed,
When the thought of buying a goose
Came into his head. 

So the next morning,
Just as the sun rose,
He jump'd out of bed,
And he donn'd his clothes, 

Saying,...Read more of this...

The Sausage Candidate-A Tale of the Elections

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 Our fathers, brave men were and strong, 
And whisky was their daily liquor; 
They used to move the world along 
In better style than now -- and quicker. 
Elections then were sport, you bet! 
A trifle rough, there's no denying 
When two opposing factions met 
The skin and hair were always flying. 
When "cabbage-trees" could still be worn 
Without...Read more of this...

The Fish

by Marianne Moore
 wade
through black jade.
 Of the crow-blue mussel-shells, one keeps
 adjusting the ash-heaps;
 opening and shutting itself like

an
injured fan.
 The barnacles which encrust the side
 of the wave, cannot hide
 there for the submerged shafts of the

sun,
split like spun
 glass, move themselves with spotlight swiftness
 into the crevices—
 in and out, illuminating

the
turquoise sea
 of bodies. The water drives a wedge
...Read more of this...

A Farewell to the World

by Ben Jonson
FALSE world good night! since thou hast brought 
That hour upon my morn of age; 
Henceforth I quit thee from my thought  
My part is ended on thy stage. 

Yes threaten do. Alas! I fear 5 
As little as I hope from thee: 
I know thou canst not show nor bear 
More hatred than thou hast to me. 

My...Read more of this...

The Country of the Blind

by C S Lewis
 Hard light bathed them-a whole nation of eyeless men, 
Dark bipeds not aware how they were maimed. A long 
Process, clearly, a slow curse,
Drained through centuries, left them thus.

At some transitional stage, then, a luckless few, 
No doubt, must have had eyes after the up-to-date, 
Normal type had achieved snug
Darkness, safe from the guns of heavn;

Whose blind mouths would...Read more of this...

Sonnet CXXXIV

by William Shakespeare
 So, now I have confess'd that he is thine,
And I myself am mortgaged to thy will,
Myself I'll forfeit, so that other mine
Thou wilt restore, to be my comfort still:
But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free,
For thou art covetous and he is kind;
He learn'd but surety-like to write for me
Under that bond that him as fast doth...Read more of this...

Sonnet XXIV: Rich Fools There Be

by Sir Philip Sidney
 Rich fools there be, whose base and filthy heart 
Lies hatching still the goods wherein they flow: 
And damning their own selves to Tantal's smart, 
Wealth breeding want, more blist more wretched grow. 

Yet to those fools heav'n such wit doth impart 
As what their hands do hold, their heads do know, 
And knowing love, and loving, lay apart,...Read more of this...

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