Get Your Premium Membership

Best Famous Flay Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Flay poems. This is a select list of the best famous Flay poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Flay poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of flay poems.

Search and read the best famous Flay poems, articles about Flay poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Flay poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

See Also:
Written by Robert William Service | Create an image from this poem

Infidelity

 Three Triangles

TRIANGLE ONE

My husband put some poison in my beer,
And fondly hoped that I would drink it up.
He would get rid of me - no bloody fear,
For when his back was turned I changed the cup.
He took it all, and if he did not die,
Its just because he's heartier than I.

And now I watch and watch him night and day
dreading that he will try it on again.
I'm getting like a skeleton they say,
And every time I feel the slightest pain
I think: he's got me this time. . . . Oh the beast!
He might have let me starve to death, at least.

But all he thinks of is that shell-pink nurse.
I know as well as well that they're in loe.
I'm sure they kiss, and maybe do things worse,
Although she looks as gentle as a dove.
I see their eyes with passion all aglow:
I know they only wait for me to go.

Ah well, I'll go (I have to, anyway),

But they will pay the price of lust and sin.
I've sent a letter to the police to say:
"If I should die its them have dome me in."
And now a lot of vernal I'll take,
And go to sleep, and never, never wake.

But won't I laugh! Aye, even when I'm dead,
To think of them both hanging by the head.

TRIANGLE TWO

My wife's a fancy bit of stuff it's true;
But that's no reason she should do me dirt.
Of course I know a girl is tempted to,
With mountain men a-fussin' round her skirt.
A 'andome women's bound to 'ave a 'eart,
But that's no reason she should be a tart.

I didn't oughter give me 'ome address
To sergeant when 'e last went on 'is leave;
And now the 'ole shebang's a bloody mess;
I didn't think the missis would deceive.
And 'ere was I, a-riskin' of me life,
And thee was 'e, a-sleepin' wiv me wife.

Go blimy, but this thing 'as got to stop.
Well, next time when we makes a big attack,
As soon as we gets well across the top,
I'll plug 'em (accidental) in the back.
'E'll cop a blinkin' packet in 'is spine,
And that'll be the end of 'im, the swine.

It's easy in the muck-up of a fight;
And all me mates'll think it was the foe.
And 'oo can say it doesn't serve 'im right?
And I'll go 'ome and none will ever know,
My missis didn't oughter do that sort o' thing,
Seein' as 'ow she wears my weddin' ring.

Well, we'll be just as 'appy as before,
When otherwise she might a' bin a 'ore.

TRIANGLE THREE

It's fun to see Joe fuss around that kid.
I know 'e loves 'er more than all the rest,
Because she's by a lot the prettiest.
'E wouldn't lose 'er for a 'undred quid.
I love 'er too, because she isn't his'n;
But Jim, his brother's, wot they've put in prision.

It's 'ard to 'ave a 'usband wot you 'ate;
So soft that if 'e knowed you'd 'ad a tup,
'E wouldn't 'ave the guts to beat you up.
Now Jim - 'e's wot I call a proper mate.
I daren't try no monkey tricks wiv 'im.
'E'd flay be 'ide off (quite right, too) would Jim.

I won't let on to Jim when 'e comes out;
But Joe - each time I see 'im kissin' Nell,
I 'ave to leave the room and laughlike 'ell.
"E'll 'ave the benefit (damn little) of the doubt.
So let 'im kiss our Nellie fit to smother;
There ain't no proof 'er father is 'is brother.

Well, anyway I've no remorse. You see,
I've kept my frailty in the family.


Written by Vachel Lindsay | Create an image from this poem

The Drunkards Funeral

 "Yes," said the sister with the little pinched face,
The busy little sister with the funny little tract: —
"This is the climax, the grand fifth act.
There rides the proud, at the finish of his race.
There goes the hearse, the mourners cry,
The respectable hearse goes slowly by.
The wife of the dead has money in her purse,
The children are in health, so it might have been worse.
That fellow in the coffin led a life most foul.
A fierce defender of the red bar-tender,
At the church he would rail,
At the preacher he would howl.
He planted every deviltry to see it grow.
He wasted half his income on the lewd and the low.
He would trade engender for the red bar-tender,
He would homage render to the red bar-tender,
And in ultimate surrender to the red bar-tender,
He died of the tremens, as crazy as a loon,
And his friends were glad, when the end came soon.
There goes the hearse, the mourners cry,
The respectable hearse goes slowly by.
And now, good friends, since you see how it ends,
Let each nation-mender flay the red bar-tender, —
Abhor
The transgression
Of the red bar-tender, —
Ruin
The profession
Of the red bar-tender:
Force him into business where his work does good.
Let him learn how to plough, let him learn to chop wood,
Let him learn how to plough, let him learn to chop wood.

"The moral,
The conclusion,
The verdict now you know:—
'The saloon must go,
The saloon must go,
The saloon,
The saloon,
The saloon,
Must go.'"

"You are right, little sister," I said to myself,
"You are right, good sister," I said.
"Though you wear a mussy bonnet
On your little gray head,
You are right, little sister," I said.
Written by John Davidson | Create an image from this poem

War Song

 In anguish we uplift 
A new unhallowed song: 
The race is to the swift; 
The battle to the strong. 

Of old it was ordained 
That we, in packs like curs, 
Some thirty million trained 
And licensed murderers, 

In crime should live and act, 
If cunning folk say sooth 
Who flay the naked fact 
And carve the heart of truth. 

The rulers cry aloud, 
"We cannot cancel war, 
The end and bloody shroud 
Of wrongs the worst abhor, 
And order's swaddling band: 
Know that relentless strife 
Remains by sea and land 
The holiest law of life. 
From fear in every guise, 
From sloth, from lust of pelf, 
By war's great sacrifice 
The world redeems itself. 
War is the source, the theme 
Of art; the goal, the bent 
And brilliant academe 
Of noble sentiment; 
The augury, the dawn 
Of golden times of grace; 
The true catholicon, 
And blood-bath of the race." 

We thirty million trained 
And licensed murderers, 
Like zanies rigged, and chained 
By drill and scourge and curse 
In shackles of despair 
We know not how to break -- 
What do we victims care 
For art, what interest take 
In things unseen, unheard? 
Some diplomat no doubt 
Will launch a heedless word, 
And lurking war leap out! 

We spell-bound armies then, 
Huge brutes in dumb distress, 
Machines compact of men 
Who once had consciences, 
Must trample harvests down -- 
Vineyard, and corn and oil; 
Dismantle town by town, 
Hamlet and homestead spoil 
On each appointed path, 
Till lust of havoc light 
A blood-red blaze of wrath 
In every frenzied sight. 

In many a mountain pass, 
Or meadow green and fresh, 
Mass shall encounter mass 
Of shuddering human flesh; 
Opposing ordnance roar 
Across the swaths of slain, 
And blood in torrents pour 
In vain -- always in vain, 
For war breeds war again! 

The shameful dream is past, 
The subtle maze untrod: 
We recognise at last 
That war is not of God.
Written by Robert William Service | Create an image from this poem

Rhyme-Smith

 Oh, I was born a lyric babe
(That last word is a bore -
It's only rhyme is astrolabe,"
Whose meaning I ignore.)
From cradlehood I lisped in numbers,
Made jingles even in my slumbers.
Said Ma: "He'll be a bard, I know it."
Said Pa: "let's hoe he will outgrow it."

Alas! I never did and so
A dreamer and a drone was I,
Who persevered in want and woe
His misery to versify.
Yea, I was doomed to be a failure
(Old Browning rhymes that last with "pale lure"):
And even starving in the gutter,
My macaronics I would utter.

Then in a poor, cheap book I crammed,
And to the public maw I tossed
My bitter Dirges of the Damned,
My Lyrics of the Lost.
"Let carping critic flay and flout
My Ditties of the Down and Out -
"There now," said I, "I've done with verse,
My love, my weakness and my curse."

Then lo! (As I would fain believe,
Before they crown, the fates would shame us)
I went to sleep one bitter eve,
And woke to find that I was famous. . . .
And so the sunny sequels were a
Gay villa on the Riviera,
A bank account, a limousine, a
Life patterned dolce e divina.

Oh, yes, my lyric flight is flighty;
My muse is much more mite than mighty:
But poetry has been my friend,
And rhyming's saved me in the end.
Written by Victor Hugo | Create an image from this poem

Milton's Appeal To Cromwell

 ("Non! je n'y puis tenir.") 
 
 {CROMWELL, Act III. sc. iv.} 


 Stay! I no longer can contain myself, 
 But cry you: Look on John, who bares his mind 
 To Oliver—to Cromwell, Milton speaks! 
 Despite a kindling eye and marvel deep 
 A voice is lifted up without your leave; 
 For I was never placed at council board 
 To speak my promptings. When awed strangers come 
 Who've seen Fox-Mazarin wince at the stings 
 In my epistles—and bring admiring votes 
 Of learned colleges, they strain to see 
 My figure in the glare—the usher utters, 
 "Behold and hearken! that's my Lord Protector's 
 Cousin—that, his son-in-law—that next"—who cares! 
 Some perfumed puppet! "Milton?" "He in black— 
 Yon silent scribe who trims their eloquence!" 
 Still 'chronicling small-beer,'—such is my duty! 
 Yea, one whose thunder roared through martyr bones 
 Till Pope and Louis Grand quaked on their thrones, 
 And echoed "Vengeance for the Vaudois," where 
 The Sultan slumbers sick with scent of roses. 
 He is but the mute in this seraglio— 
 "Pure" Cromwell's Council! 
 But to be dumb and blind is overmuch! 
 Impatient Issachar kicks at the load! 
 Yet diadems are burdens painfuller, 
 And I would spare thee that sore imposition. 
 Dear brother Noll, I plead against thyself! 
 Thou aim'st to be a king; and, in thine heart, 
 What fool has said: "There is no king but thou?" 
 For thee the multitude waged war and won— 
 The end thou art of wrestlings and of prayer, 
 Of sleepless watch, long marches, hunger, tears 
 And blood prolifically spilled, homes lordless, 
 And homeless lords! The mass must always suffer 
 That one should reign! the collar's but newly clamp'd, 
 And nothing but the name thereon is changed— 
 Master? still masters! mark you not the red 
 Of shame unutterable in my sightless white? 
 Still hear me, Cromwell, speaking for your sake! 
 These fifteen years, we, to you whole-devoted, 
 Have sought for Liberty—to give it thee? 
 To make our interests your huckster gains? 
 The king a lion slain that you may flay, 
 And wear the robe—well, worthily—I say't, 
 For I will not abase my brother! 
 No! I would keep him in the realm serene, 
 My own ideal of heroes! loved o'er Israel, 
 And higher placed by me than all the others! 
 And such, for tinkling titles, hollow haloes 
 Like that around yon painted brow—thou! thou! 
 Apostle, hero, saint-dishonor thyself! 
 And snip and trim the flag of Naseby-field 
 As scarf on which the maid-of-honor's dog 
 Will yelp, some summer afternoon! That sword 
 Shrink into a sceptre! brilliant bauble! Thou, 
 Thrown on a lonely rock in storm of state, 
 Brain-turned by safety's miracle, thou risest 
 Upon the tott'ring stone whilst ocean ebbs, 
 And, reeking of no storms to come to-morrow, 
 Or to-morrow—deem that a certain pedestal 
 Whereon thou'lt be adored for e'er—e'en while 
 It shakes—o'ersets the rider! Tremble, thou! 
 For he who dazzles, makes men Samson-blind, 
 Will see the pillars of his palace kiss 
 E'en at the whelming ruin! Then, what word 
 Of answer from your wreck when I demand 
 Account of Cromwell! glory of the people 
 Smothered in ashes! through the dust thou'lt hear; 
 "What didst thou with thy virtue?" Will it respond: 
 "When battered helm is doffed, how soft is purple 
 On which to lay the head, lulled by the praise 
 Of thousand fluttering fans of flatterers! 
 Wearied of war-horse, gratefully one glides 
 In gilded barge, or in crowned, velvet car, 
 From gay Whitehall to gloomy Temple Bar—" 
 (Where—had you slipt, that head were bleaching now! 
 And that same rabble, splitting for a hedge, 
 Had joined their rows to cheer the active headsman; 
 Perchance, in mockery, they'd gird the skull 
 With a hop-leaf crown! Bitter the brewing, Noll!) 
 Are crowns the end-all of ambition? Remember 
 Charles Stuart! and that they who make can break! 
 This same Whitehall may black its front with crape, 
 And this broad window be the portal twice 
 To lead upon a scaffold! Frown! or laugh! 
 Laugh on as they did at Cassandra's speech! 
 But mark—the prophetess was right! Still laugh, 
 Like the credulous Ethiop in his faith in stars! 
 But give one thought to Stuart, two for yourself! 
 In his appointed hour, all was forthcoming— 
 Judge, axe, and deathsman veiled! and my poor eyes 
 Descry—as would thou saw'st!—a figure veiled, 
 Uplooming there—afar, like sunrise, coming! 
 With blade that ne'er spared Judas 'midst free brethren! 
 Stretch not the hand of Cromwell for the prize 
 Meant not for him, nor his! Thou growest old, 
 The people are ever young! Like her i' the chase 
 Who drave a dart into her lover, embowered, 
 Piercing the incense-clouds, the popular shaft 
 May slay thee in a random shot at Tyranny! 
 Man, friend, remain a Cromwell! in thy name, 
 Rule! and if thy son be worthy, he and his, 
 So rule the rest for ages! be it grander thus 
 To be a Cromwell than a Carolus. 
 No lapdog combed by wantons, but the watch 
 Upon the freedom that we won! Dismiss 
 Your flatterers—let no harpings, no gay songs 
 Prevent your calm dictation of good laws 
 To guard, to fortify, and keep enlinked 
 England and Freedom! Be thine old self alone! 
 And make, above all else accorded me, 
 My most desired claim on all posterity, 
 That thou in Milton's verse wert foremost of the free! 


 






Written by Omar Khayyam | Create an image from this poem

O wheel of heaven! no ties of bread you feel,

O wheel of heaven! no ties of bread you feel,
No ties of salt, you flay me like an eel!
A woman's wheel spins clothes for man and wife,
It does more good than you, O heavenly wheel!

Book: Reflection on the Important Things