Famous Artist Poems by Famous Poets

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

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The Artists Duty

by Kenneth Patchen
 So it is the duty of the artist to discourage all traces of shame
To extend all boundaries
To fog them in right over the plate
To kill only what is ridiculous
To establish problem
To ignore solutions
To listen to no one
To omit nothing
To contradict everything
To generate the free brain
To bear no cross
To take part in no crucifixion
To tinkle a warning when mankind strays
To...Read more of this...

Penniwit the Artist

by Edgar Lee Masters
 I lost my patronage in Spoon River
From trying to put my mind in the camera
To catch the soul of the person.
The very best picture I ever took
Was of Judge Somers, attorney at law.
He sat upright and had me pause
Till he got his cross-eye straight.
Then when he was ready he said "all right."
And I yelled "overruled" and his eye turned...Read more of this...

Beautiful Newport on the Braes o the Silvery Tay

by William Topaz McGonagall
 Bonnie Mary, the Maid o' the Tay,
Come! Let's go, and have a holiday
In Newport, on the braes o' the silvery Tay,
'Twill help to drive dull care away. 

The scenery there is most enchanting to be seen,
Especially the fine mansions with their shrubbery green;
And the trees and ivy are beautiful to view
Growing in front of each stately home in the...Read more of this...

To A Young Artist

by Robinson Jeffers
 It is good for strength not to be merciful
To its own weakness, good for the deep urn to run
 over, good to explore
The peaks and the deeps, who can endure it,
Good to be hurt, who can be healed afterward: but
 you that have whetted consciousness
Too bitter an edge, too keenly daring,
So that the color of a leaf can make...Read more of this...

Indications The

by Walt Whitman
 THE indications, and tally of time; 
Perfect sanity shows the master among philosophs; 
Time, always without flaw, indicates itself in parts; 
What always indicates the poet, is the crowd of the pleasant company of singers, and their
 words; 
The words of the singers are the hours or minutes of the light or dark—but the words
 of
 the
 maker of...Read more of this...

The Gourd

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
In the heavy earth the miner
Toiled and laboured day by day,
Wrenching from the miser mountain
[Pg 108]Brilliant treasure where it lay.
And the artist worn and weary
Wrought with labour manifold
That the king might drink his nectar
From a goblet made of gold.
On the prince's groaning table
Mid the silver gleaming bright
Mirroring the happy faces
Giving back the flaming light,
Shine the cups of priceless...Read more of this...

The Artist as an Old Man

by Erica Jong
 If you ask him he will talk for hours--
how at fourteen he hammered signs, fingers
raw with cold, and later painted bowers
in ladies' boudoirs; how he played checkers
for two weeks in jail, and lived on dark bread;
how he fled the border to a country
which disappeared wars ago; unfriended
crossed a continent while this century
began. He seldom speaks of painting now.
Young men...Read more of this...

Anonymous Drawing

by Donald Justice
 A delicate young ***** stands
With the reins of a horse clutched loosely in his hands;
So delicate, indeed, that we wonder if he can hold the spirited creature
beside him
Until the master shall arrive to ride him.
Already the animal's nostrils widen with rage or fear.
But if we imagine him snorting, about to rear,
This boy, who should know about such things better...Read more of this...

Pompeii And Herculaneum

by Friedrich von Schiller
 What wonder this?--we ask the lympid well,
O earth! of thee--and from thy solemn womb
What yieldest thou?--is there life in the abyss--
Doth a new race beneath the lava dwell?
Returns the past, awakening from the tomb?
Rome--Greece!--Oh, come!--Behold--behold! for this!
Our living world--the old Pompeii sees;
And built anew the town of Dorian Hercules!
House upon house--its silent halls once more
Opes the broad portico!--Oh, haste...Read more of this...

The Venal Muse

by Charles Baudelaire
 O muse of my heart, lover of palaces, 
Will you bring, when January lets loose its sleet 
And its black evenings without solace, 
An ember to warm my violet feet? 
What will revive your bruised shoulders, 
The nocturnal rays that pierce the shutters? 
When you cannot feel your palace, just your empty billfold, 
How will you harvest the gold...Read more of this...

A Creature Catechism

by Bliss Carman
 I
Soul, what art thou in the tribes of the sea?


LORD, said a flying fish, 
Below the foundations of storm 
We feel the primal wish 
Of the earth take form. 

Through the dim green water-fire 
We see the red sun loom, 
And the quake of a new desire 
Takes hold on us down in the gloom. 

No more can the...Read more of this...

Soup Song

by Russell Edson
 How I make my soup: I draw water from a tap . . .

 I am not an artist. And the water is not so much 
drawn as allowed to fall, and to capture itself in a pot.

 Perhaps not so much captured, as allowed to gather 
itself from its stream; the way it falls that the drain 
would...Read more of this...

Artist

by Robert William Service
 He gave a picture exhibition,
Hiring a little empty shop.
Above its window: FREE ADMISSION
Cajoled the passers-by to stop;
Just to admire - no need to purchase,
Although his price might have been low:
But no proud artist ever urges
Potential buyers at his show.

Of course he badly needed money,
But more he needed moral aid.
Some people thought his pictures funny,
Too ultra-modern, I'm afraid.
His painting was...Read more of this...

American Beauty

by Carolyn Kizer
 For Ann London 

As you described your mastectomy in calm detail
and bared your chest so I might see
the puckered scar,
"They took a hatchet to your breast!" I said. "What an
Amazon you are."

When we were girls we climbed Mt. Tamalpais
chewing bay leaves we had plucked
along the way;
we got high all right, from animal pleasure in each other,
shouting to the sky.

On...Read more of this...

The Artist

by Robert William Service
 All day with brow of anxious thought
 The dictionary through,
Amid a million words he sought
 The sole one that would do.
He wandered on from pub to pub
 Yet never ceased to seek
With burning brain and pencil stub
 The Word Unique.

Said he: 'I'll nail it down or die.
 Oh Heaven help me, pray!'
And then a heavy car dashed by,
 And...Read more of this...

The Soldier

by Gerard Manley Hopkins
 Yes. Why do we ?ll, seeing of a soldier, bless him? bless
Our redcoats, our tars? Both these being, the greater part,
But frail clay, nay but foul clay. Here it is: the heart,
Since, proud, it calls the calling manly, gives a guess
That, hopes that, makesbelieve, the men must be no less;
It fancies, feigns, deems, dears the artist after his art;
And...Read more of this...

Morgans Dog

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 Morgan the drover explained, 
As he drank from his battered quart-pot, 
Many a **** I have trained; 
This is the best of the lot. 
Crossing these stringybark hills, 
Hungry and rocky and steep 
This is the country that kills 
Weakly and sore-footed sheep. 

Those that are healthy and strong 
Battle away in the lead, 
Carting the others along, 
Eating...Read more of this...

161. Epigram Addressed to an Artist

by Robert Burns
 DEAR ———, I’ll gie ye some advice,
 You’ll tak it no uncivil:
You shouldna paint at angels mair,
 But try and paint the devil.


To paint an Angel’s kittle wark,
 Wi’ Nick, there’s little danger:
You’ll easy draw a lang-kent face,
 But no sae weel a stranger.—R. B....Read more of this...

Portrait of the Artist

by Dorothy Parker
 Oh, lead me to a quiet cell
Where never footfall rankles,
And bar the window passing well,
And gyve my wrists and ankles.

Oh, wrap my eyes with linen fair,
With hempen cord go bind me,
And, of your mercy, leave me there,
Nor tell them where to find me.

Oh, lock the portal as you go,
And see its bolts be double....
Come back in half an hour...Read more of this...

The Garden Of Death

by Godfrey Mutiso Gorry
 Weak but alive
dying yet still alive
huge eyes
round like golf balls 
white as bones
Bony framed
fleshless
Pus in orifices
worms
teeth, white teeth
skull and bones.
Am sorry for life
Oh this pain deeper than
Only death can save
My friend, I am sorry
That you pain
When you sleep, wake
Pain, blindness
Damn anguish – no thoughts emerge
When engulfed by pain
Such heart is dead 
Am sorry;
Oh this life! A taboo
You will die...Read more of this...

The Spider as an Artist

by Emily Dickinson
 The Spider as an Artist
Has never been employed --
Though his surpassing Merit
Is freely certified

By every Broom and Bridget
Throughout a Christian Land --
Neglected Son of Genius
I take thee by the Hand --...Read more of this...

Portrait of the Artist as a Prematurely Old Man

by Ogden Nash
 It is common knowledge to every schoolboy and even every Bachelor of Arts,
That all sin is divided into two parts.
One kind of sin is called a sin of commission, and that is very important,
And it is what you are doing when you are doing something you ortant,
And the other kind of sin is just the opposite and is called...Read more of this...

The Artist

by Sir Walter Raleigh
 The Artist and his Luckless Wife 
They lead a horrid haunted life, 
Surrounded by the things he's made 
That are not wanted by the trade. 

The world is very fair to see; 
The Artist will not let it be; 
He fiddles with the works of God, 
And makes them look uncommon odd. 

The Artist is an awful man, 
He...Read more of this...

The Bistro Styx

by Rita Dove
 She was thinner, with a mannered gauntness
as she paused just inside the double
glass doors to survey the room, silvery cape
billowing dramatically behind her.What's this,

I thought, lifting a hand until
she nodded and started across the parquet;
that's when I saw she was dressed all in gray,
from a kittenish cashmere skirt and cowl

down to the graphite signature of her shoes.
"Sorry I'm late,"...Read more of this...

Verses on Sir Joshua Reynolds Painted Window at New College Oxford

by Thomas Warton
 Ah, stay thy treacherous hand, forbear to trace
Those faultless forms of elegance and grace!
Ah, cease to spread the bright transparent mass,
With Titian's pencil, o'er the speaking glass!
Nor steal, by strokes of art with truth combin'd,
The fond illusions of my wayward mind!
For long, enamour'd of a barbarous age,
A faithless truant to the classic page;
Long have I lov'd to catch the...Read more of this...

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