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Best Famous Jerry Poems

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

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Written by Allen Ginsberg | Create an image from this poem

Crossing Nation

 Under silver wing
 San Francisco's towers sprouting
 thru thin gas clouds,
 Tamalpais black-breasted above Pacific azure
 Berkeley hills pine-covered below--
Dr Leary in his brown house scribing Independence
 Declaration
 typewriter at window
 silver panorama in natural eyeball--

Sacramento valley rivercourse's Chinese 
 dragonflames licking green flats north-hazed
 State Capitol metallic rubble, dry checkered fields
 to Sierras- past Reno, Pyramid Lake's 
 blue Altar, pure water in Nevada sands' 
 brown wasteland scratched by tires

 Jerry Rubin arrested! Beaten, jailed,
 coccyx broken--
Leary out of action--"a public menace...
 persons of tender years...immature
 judgement...pyschiatric examination..."
i.e. Shut up or Else Loonybin or Slam

Leroi on bum gun rap, $7,000
 lawyer fees, years' negotiations--
SPOCK GUILTY headlined temporary, Joan Baez'
 paramour husband Dave Harris to Gaol
Dylan silent on politics, & safe--
 having a baby, a man--
Cleaver shot at, jail'd, maddened, parole revoked,

Vietnam War flesh-heap grows higher,
 blood splashing down the mountains of bodies
 on to Cholon's sidewalks--
Blond boys in airplane seats fed technicolor
 Murderers advance w/ Death-chords
 Earplugs in, steak on plastic
 served--Eyes up to the Image--

What do I have to lose if America falls?
 my body? my neck? my personality?

 June 19, 1968


Written by George Meredith | Create an image from this poem

Juggling Jerry

 Pitch here the tent, while the old horse grazes:
By the old hedge-side we'll halt a stage.
It's nigh my last above the daisies:
My next leaf'll be man's blank page.
Yes, my old girl! and it's no use crying:
Juggler, constable, king, must bow.
One that outjuggles all's been spying
Long to have me, and he has me now.

We've travelled times to this old common:
Often we've hung our pots in the gorse.
We've had a stirring life, old woman!
You, and I, and the old grey horse.
Races, and fairs, and royal occasions,
Found us coming to their call:
Now they'll miss us at our stations:
There's a Juggler outjuggles all!

Up goes the lark, as if all were jolly!
Over the duck-pond the willow shakes.
Easy to think that grieving's folly,
When the hand's firm as driven stakes!
Ay, when we're strong, and braced, and manful,
Life's a sweet fiddle: but we're a batch
Born to become the Great Juggler's han'ful:
Balls he shies up, and is safe to catch.

Here's where the lads of the village cricket:
I was a lad not wide from here:
Couldn't I whip off the bale from the wicket?
Like an old world those days appear!
Donkey, sheep, geese, and thatch'd ale-house--I know them!
They are old friends of my halts, and seem,
Somehow, as if kind thanks I owe them:
Juggling don't hinder the heart's esteem.

Juggling's no sin, for we must have victual:
Nature allows us to bait for the fool.
Holding one's own makes us juggle no little;
But, to increase it, hard juggling's the rule.
You that are sneering at my profession,
Haven't you juggled a vast amount?
There's the Prime Minister, in one Session,
Juggles more games than my sins'll count.

I've murdered insects with mock thunder:
Conscience, for that, in men don't quail.
I've made bread from the bump of wonder:
That's my business, and there's my tale.
Fashion and rank all praised the professor:
Ay! and I've had my smile from the Queen:
Bravo, Jerry! she meant: God bless her!
Ain't this a sermon on that scene?

I've studied men from my topsy-turvy
Close, and, I reckon, rather true.
Some are fine fellows: some, right scurvy:
Most, a dash between the two.
But it's a woman, old girl, that makes me
Think more kindly of the race:
And it's a woman, old girl, that shakes me
When the Great Juggler I must face.

We two were married, due and legal:
Honest we've lived since we've been one.
Lord! I could then jump like an eagle:
You danced bright as a bit o' the sun.
Birds in a May-bush we were! right merry!
All night we kiss'd, we juggled all day.
Joy was the heart of Juggling Jerry!
Now from his old girl he's juggled away.

It's past parsons to console us:
No, nor no doctor fetch for me:
I can die without my bolus;
Two of a trade, lass, never agree!
Parson and Doctor!--don't they love rarely
Fighting the devil in other men's fields!
Stand up yourself and match him fairly:
Then see how the rascal yields!

I, lass, have lived no gipsy, flaunting
Finery while his poor helpmate grubs:
Coin I've stored, and you won't be wanting:
You shan't beg from the troughs and tubs.
Nobly you've stuck to me, though in his kitchen
Many a Marquis would hail you Cook!
Palaces you could have ruled and grown rich in,
But your old Jerry you never forsook.

Hand up the chirper! ripe ale winks in it;
Let's have comfort and be at peace.
Once a stout draught made me light as a linnet.
Cheer up! the Lord must have his lease.
May be--for none see in that black hollow--
It's just a place where we're held in pawn,
And, when the Great Juggler makes as to swallow,
It's just the sword-trick--I ain't quite gone!

Yonder came smells of the gorse, so nutty,
Gold-like and warm: it's the prime of May.
Better than mortar, brick and putty
Is God's house on a blowing day.
Lean me more up the mound; now I feel it:
All the old heath-smells! Ain't it strange?
There's the world laughing, as if to conceal it,
But He's by us, juggling the change.

I mind it well, by the sea-beach lying,
Once--it's long gone--when two gulls we beheld,
Which, as the moon got up, were flying
Down a big wave that sparked and swell'd.
Crack, went a gun: one fell: the second
Wheeled round him twice, and was off for new luck:
There in the dark her white wing beckon'd:--
Drop me a kiss--I'm the bird dead-struck!
Written by Robert Pinsky | Create an image from this poem

To Television

 Not a "window on the world"
But as we call you,
A box a tube

Terrarium of dreams and wonders.
Coffer of shades, ordained
Cotillion of phosphors
Or liquid crystal

Homey miracle, tub
Of acquiescence, vein of defiance.
Your patron in the pantheon would be Hermes

Raster dance,
Quick one, little thief, escort
Of the dying and comfort of the sick,

In a blue glow my father and little sister sat
Snuggled in one chair watching you
Their wife and mother was sick in the head
I scorned you and them as I scorned so much

Now I like you best in a hotel room,
Maybe minutes
Before I have to face an audience: behind
The doors of the armoire, box
Within a box--Tom & Jerry, or also brilliant
And reassuring, Oprah Winfrey.

Thank you, for I watched, I watched
Sid Caesar speaking French and Japanese not
Through knowledge but imagination,
His quickness, and Thank You, I watched live
Jackie Robinson stealing

Home, the image--O strung shell--enduring
Fleeter than light like these words we
Remember in, they too winged
At the helmet and ankles.
Written by Mother Goose | Create an image from this poem

Jerry Hall

Jerry Hall, he was so small,A rat could eat him, hat and all.
Written by Andrew Barton Paterson | Create an image from this poem

Mulligans Mare

 Oh, Mulligan's bar was the deuce of a place 
To drink, and to fight, and to gamble and race; 
The height of choice spirits from near and from far 
Were all concentrated on Mulligan's bar. 

There was "Jerry the Swell", and the jockey-boy Ned, 
"Dog-bite-me" -- so called from the shape of his head -- 
And a man whom the boys, in their musical slang, 
Designated the "Gaffer of Mulligan's Gang". 

Now Mulligan's Gang had a racer to show, 
A bad un to look at, a good un to go; 
Whenever they backed her you safely might swear 
She'd walk in a winner, would Mulligan's mare. 

But Mulligan, having some radical views, 
Neglected his business and got on the booze; 
He took up with runners -- a treacherous troop -- 
Who gave him away, and he "fell in the soup". 

And so it turned out on a fine summer day, 
A bailiff turned up with a writ of "fi. fa."; 
He walked to the bar with a manner serene, 
"I levy," said he, "in the name of the Queen." 

Then Mulligan wanted, in spite of the law, 
To pay out the bailiff with "one on the jaw"; 
He drew out to hit him; but ere you could wink, 
He changed his intention and stood him a drink. 

A great consultation there straightway befell 
'Twixt jockey-boy Neddy and Jerry the Swell, 
And the man with the head, who remarked "Why, you bet! 
Dog-bite-me!" said he, "but we'll diddle 'em yet. 

"We'll slip out the mare from her stall in a crack, 
And put in her place the old broken-down hack; 
The hack is so like her, I'm ready to swear 
The bailiff will think he has Mulligan's mare. 

"So out with the racer and in with the screw, 
We'll show him what Mulligan's talent can do; 
And if he gets nasty and dares to say much, 
I'll knock him as stiff as my grandfather's crutch." 

Then off to the town went the mare and the lad; 
The bailiff came out, never dreamt he was "had"; 
But marched to the stall with a confident air -- 
"I levy," said he, "upon Mulligan's mare." 

He watched her by day and he watched her by night, 
She was never an instant let out of his sight, 
For races were coming away in the West 
And Mulligan's mare had a chance with the best. 

"Here's a slant," thought the bailiff, "to serve my own ends, 
I'll send off a wire to my bookmaking friends: 
'Get all you can borrow, beg, snavel or snare 
And lay the whole lot against Mulligan's mare.'" 

The races came round, and the crowd on the course 
Were laying the mare till they made themselves hoarse, 
And Mulligan's party, with ardour intense, 
They backed her for pounds and for shillings and pence. 

But think of the grief of the bookmaking host 
At the sound of the summons to go to the post -- 
For down to the start with her thoroughbred air 
As fit as a fiddle pranced Mulligan's mare! 

They started, and off went the boy to the front, 
He cleared out at once, and he made it a hunt; 
He steadied as rounding the corner they wheeled, 
Then gave her her head -- and she smothered the field. 

The race put her owner right clear of his debts; 
He landed a fortune in stakes and in bets, 
He paid the old bailiff the whole of his pelf, 
And gave him a hiding to keep for himself. 

So all you bold sportsmen take warning, I pray, 
Keep clear of the running, you'll find it don't pay; 
For the very best rule that you'll hear in a week 
Is never to bet on a thing that can speak. 

And whether you're lucky or whether you lose, 
Keep clear of the cards and keep clear of the booze, 
And fortune in season will answer your prayer 
And send you a flyer like Mulligan's mare.


Written by Andrew Barton Paterson | Create an image from this poem

Camouflage

 Beside the bare and beaten track of travelling flocks and herds 
The woodpecker went tapping on, the postman of the birds, 
"I've got a letter here," he said, "that no one's understood, 
Addressed as follows: 'To the bird that's like a piece of wood.' 
"The soldier bird got very cross -- it wasn't meant for her; 
The spurwing plover had a try to stab me with a spur: 
The jackass laughed, and said the thing was written for a lark. 
I think I'll chuck this postman job and take to stripping bark." 

Then all the birds for miles around came in to lend a hand; 
They perched upon a broken limb as thick as they could stand, 
And just as old man eaglehawk prepared to have his say 
A portion of the broken limb got up and flew away. 

Then, casting grammar to the winds, the postman said, "That's him! 
The boobook owl -- he squats himself along a broken limb, 
And pokes his beak up like a stick; there's not a bird, I vow, 
Can tell you which is boobook owl and which is broken bough. 

"And that's the thing he calls his nest -- that jerry-built affair -- 
A bunch of sticks across a fork; I'll leave his letter there. 
A cuckoo wouldn't use his nest, but what's the odds to him -- 
A bird that tries to imitate a piece of leaning limb!"
Written by Andrew Barton Paterson | Create an image from this poem

Camouflage

 Beside the bare and beaten track of travelling flocks and herds 
The woodpecker went tapping on, the postman of the birds, 
"I've got a letter here," he said, "that no one's understood, 
Addressed as follows: 'To the bird that's like a piece of wood.' 
"The soldier bird got very cross -- it wasn't meant for her; 
The spurwing plover had a try to stab me with a spur: 
The jackass laughed, and said the thing was written for a lark. 
I think I'll chuck this postman job and take to stripping bark." 

Then all the birds for miles around came in to lend a hand; 
They perched upon a broken limb as thick as they could stand, 
And just as old man eaglehawk prepared to have his say 
A portion of the broken limb got up and flew away. 

Then, casting grammar to the winds, the postman said, "That's him! 
The boobook owl -- he squats himself along a broken limb, 
And pokes his beak up like a stick; there's not a bird, I vow, 
Can tell you which is boobook owl and which is broken bough. 

"And that's the thing he calls his nest -- that jerry-built affair -- 
A bunch of sticks across a fork; I'll leave his letter there. 
A cuckoo wouldn't use his nest, but what's the odds to him -- 
A bird that tries to imitate a piece of leaning limb!"
Written by Eugene Field | Create an image from this poem

The jaffa and jerusalem railway

 A tortuous double iron track; a station here, a station there;
A locomotive, tender, tanks; a coach with stiff reclining chair;
Some postal cars, and baggage, too; a vestibule of patent make;
With buffers, duffers, switches, and the soughing automatic brake--
This is the Orient's novel pride, and Syria's gaudiest modern gem:
The railway scheme that is to ply 'twixt Jaffa and Jerusalem.

Beware, O sacred Mooley cow, the engine when you hear its bell;
Beware, O camel, when resounds the whistle's shrill, unholy swell;
And, native of that guileless land, unused to modern travel's snare,
Beware the fiend that peddles books--the awful peanut-boy beware.
Else, trusting in their specious arts, you may have reason to condemn
The traffic which the knavish ply 'twixt Jaffa and Jerusalem.

And when, ah, when the bonds fall due, how passing wroth will wax the
state
From Nebo's mount to Nazareth will spread the cry "Repudiate"!
From Hebron to Tiberius, from Jordan's banks unto the sea,
Will rise profuse anathemas against "that ---- monopoly!"
And F.M.B.A. shepherd-folk, with Sockless Jerry leading them,
Will swamp that corporation line 'twixt Jaffa and Jerusalem.
Written by Robert William Service | Create an image from this poem

Priscilla

 Jerry MacMullen, the millionaire,
Driving a red-meat bus out there --
How did he win his Croix de Guerre?
Bless you, that's all old stuff:
Beast of a night on the Verdun road,
Jerry stuck with a woeful load,
Stalled in the mud where the red lights glowed,
Prospect devilish tough.

"Little Priscilla" he called his car,
Best of our battered bunch by far,
Branded with many a bullet scar,
Yet running so sweet and true.
Jerry he loved her, knew her tricks;
Swore: "She's the beat of the best big six,
And if ever I get in a deuce of a fix
Priscilla will pull me through."

"Looks pretty rotten right now," says he;
"Hanged if the devil himself could see.
Priscilla, it's up to you and me
To show 'em what we can do."
Seemed that Priscilla just took the word;
Up with a leap like a horse that's spurred,
On with the joy of a homing bird,
Swift as the wind she flew.

Shell-holes shoot at them out of the night;
A lurch to the left, a wrench to the right,
Hands grim-gripping and teeth clenched tight,
Eyes that glare through the dark.
"Priscilla, you're doing me proud this day;
Hospital's only a league away,
And, honey, I'm longing to hit the hay,
So hurry, old girl. . . . But hark!"

Howl of a shell, harsh, sudden, dread;
Another . . . another. . . . "Strike me dead
If the Huns ain't strafing the road ahead
So the convoy can't get through!
A barrage of shrap, and us alone;
Four rush-cases -- you hear 'em moan?
Fierce old messes of blood and bone. . . .
Priscilla, what shall we do?"

Again it seems that Priscilla hears.
With a rush and a roar her way she clears,
Straight at the hell of flame she steers,
Full at its heart of wrath.
Fury of death and dust and din!
Havoc and horror! She's in, she's in;
She's almost over, she'll win, she'll win!
Woof! Crump! right in the path.

Little Priscilla skids and stops,
Jerry MacMullen sways and flops;
Bang in his map the crash he cops;
Shriek from the car: "Mon Dieu!"
One of the blessés hears him say,
Just at the moment he faints away:
"Reckon this isn't my lucky day,
Priscilla, it's up to you."

Sergeant raps on the doctor's door;
"Car in the court with couchés four;
Driver dead on the dashboard floor;
Strange how the bunch got here."
"No," says the Doc, "this chap's alive;
But tell me, how could a man contrive
With both arms broken, a car to drive?
Thunder of God! it's *****."

Same little blessé makes a spiel;
Says he: "When I saw our driver reel,
A Strange Shape leapt to the driving wheel
And sped us safe through the night."
But Jerry, he says in his drawling tone:
"Rats! Why, Priscilla came in on her own.
Bless her, she did it alone, alone. . . ."
Hanged if I know who's right.
Written by William Butler Yeats | Create an image from this poem

His Bargain

 Who talks of Plato's spindle;
What set it whirling round?
Eternity may dwindle,
Time is unwound,
Dan and Jerry Lout
Change their loves about.
However they may take it,
Before the thread began
I made, and may not break it
When the last thread has run,
A bargain with that hair
And all the windings there.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things