Famous Aprons Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Aprons poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous aprons poems. These examples illustrate what a famous aprons poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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...I was asked
To come and say the same things
Everybody was saying, no end
To the yes-yes, yes-yes, me-too, me-too.
The aprons of silence covered me.
A wire and hatch held my tongue.
I spit nails into an abyss and listened.
I shut off the gabble of Jones, Johnson, Smith.
All whose names take pages in the city directory.
I fixed up a padded cell and lugged it around.
I locked myself in and nobody knew it.
Only the keeper and the kept in the hoosegow
Knew it—on the streets, in...Read more of this...
by
Sandburg, Carl
....
Soon we will be nothing
but silhouettes: the sons'
as harsh
as the fathers'.
Soon the daughters
will take off their aprons
as trees take off their leaves
for winter.
Let us eat quickly--
let us fill ourselves up.
the covers of the album are closing
behind us....Read more of this...
by
Pastan, Linda
...or's arms with touch profane;
There beg your more heroic wives
To guard your own, your children's, lives;
Beneath their aprons seek a screen,
Nor dare to mingle more with men."
As thus he spake, the Tories' anger
Could now restrain itself no longer;
Who tried before by many a freak, or
Insulting noise, to stop the speaker;
Swung th' un-oil'd hinge of each pew-door,
Their feet kept shuffling on the floor;
Made their disapprobation known
By many a murmur, hum and groan,
That ...Read more of this...
by
Trumbull, John
...and mankind
To ape each other are inclin'd,
We soon, the time to while away,
A game at priests resolved to play.
Their aprons all our sisters lent
For copes, which gave us great content;
And handkerchiefs, embroider'd o'er,
Instead of stoles we also wore;
Gold paper, whereon beasts were traced,
The bishop's brow as mitre graced.
Through house and garden thus in state
We strutted early, strutted late,
Repeating with all proper unction,
Incessantly each holy function.
The bes...Read more of this...
by
von Goethe, Johann Wolfgang
...of those stones piled and carved for you to
dream over and wonder because workmen got joy
of life into them,
Workmen in aprons singing while they hammered, and
praying, and putting their songs and prayers into
the walls and roofs, the bastions and cornerstones
and gargoyles--all their children and kisses of
women and wheat and roses growing.
I say, William Morris, I'm glad you're gone, I'm glad
you're a dead man.
Guns on the battle lines have pounded a year now between
Brusse...Read more of this...
by
Sandburg, Carl
...d --
And how you've littered all the East
With duds of Emerald!
And still, she plies her spotted Brooms,
And still the Aprons fly,
Till Brooms fade softly into stars --
And then I come away --...Read more of this...
by
Dickinson, Emily
...There, there, an A&P,
And not a tree
For Miles, and mammoth hills of goods.
Fat men in uniforms,
Young men in aprons
With one face shouting, "He is mad!"
I answered: "I am Lincoln,
Aaron Burr,
The aging son of Appleseed.
"I am American
And I am cold."
But not a one would hear me out.
Oh God, what have I seen
That was not sold!
They shot an old man in the gut.
Mad, dying, Sierra Kid enters the capital
What have I changed?
I unwound burdocks ...Read more of this...
by
Levine, Philip
...se.
>From the main road
They would have heard the screaming,
Then heard it stop and had a view of us
In our gloves and aprons coming
down the hill.
Two lines of them, guns on their
shoulders, marching.
Armoured cars and tanks and open jeeps.
Sunburnt hands and arms.
Unarmed, in step,
Hosting for Normandy.
Not that we knew then
Where they were headed, standing
there like youngsters
As they tossed us gum and tubes of
coloured sweets'...Read more of this...
by
Heaney, Seamus
...t horn lifts its arm over the dew-lit grass
and in the slave quarters there is a rustling –
children are bundled into aprons, cornbread
and water gourds grabbed, a salt pork breakfast taken.
I watch them driven into the vague before-dawn
while their mistress sleeps like an ivory toothpick
and Massa dreams of asses, rum and slave funk.
I cannot fall asleep again. At the second horn,
the whip curls across the backs of the laggards –
sometimes my sister’s voice, u...Read more of this...
by
Dove, Rita
...
Anchored on the corner.
All the day of the moving I longed to be alone
With you; for the men in their old-fashioned aprons
To finish and be off and make space for you to squat
And with your nimble fingers light the one real fire
We had been allowed, so I could sit in my winged
Windsor chair and decipher the text of the flames
And savour the smoke before the up-draft caught;
And for a few days there might seem little to say,
The clay wet in the bin, the canvases hea...Read more of this...
by
Tebb, Barry
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