Best Famous Constipation Poems
Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Constipation poems. This is a select list of the best famous Constipation poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Constipation poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of constipation poems.
Search and read the best famous Constipation poems, articles about Constipation poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Constipation poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.
See Also:
Written by
Sylvia Plath |
the slime of all my yesterdays
rots in the hollow of my skull
and if my stomach would contract
because of some explicable phenomenon
such as pregnancy or constipation
I would not remember you
or that because of sleep
infrequent as a moon of greencheese
that because of food
nourishing as violet leaves
that because of these
and in a few fatal yards of grass
in a few spaces of sky and treetops
a future was lost yesterday
as easily and irretrievably
as a tennis ball at twilight
|
Written 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 the freedom and force it engendered
Shone and spun
Out of my old raincoat.
It must have looked like love
Or a fabulous free holiday
To the young men sauntering
Down Berwick Street.
I still think this is most mysterious
For while I was writing it
It was gritty it felt like self-abuse
Constipation, desperately unsocial.
But done done done
Everything in the world
Flowed back
Like a huge bonus.
|
Written 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 the freedom and force it engendered
Shone and spun
Out of my old raincoat.
It must have looked like love
Or a fabulous free holiday
To the young men sauntering
Down Berwick Street.
I still think this is most mysterious
For while I was writing it
It was gritty it felt like self-abuse
Constipation, desperately unsocial.
But done done done
Everything in the world
Flowed back
Like a huge bonus.
|
Written by
Rg Gregory |
army hospital
rheumatic fever
bed-tied many weeks
too embarrassed to ask for bedpan
the rigmarole of screens and knowing attention
- for my pains
severe constipation
and bleeding piles
am led away to be injected
crouching
waist-down undressed
upon a marble table
being shaved the wrong end
(easy talk between doctor and nurse)
the needle takes its time
feeling for entrance
(gentle talk between fingers and tongue)
JAB
searing lava
stuck pig
bouquets in white coats
sorely to bed
time
evaporates the pain
and
later
much relief
|