10 Best Famous Maladroit Poems
Here is a collection of the top 10 all-time best famous Maladroit poems. This is a select list of the best famous Maladroit poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Maladroit poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of maladroit poems.
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Written by
Charles Baudelaire |
Often, to amuse themselves, the crew of the ship
Would fell an albatross, the largest of sea birds,
Indolent companions of their trip
As they slide across the deep sea's bitters.
Scarcely had they dropped to the plank
Than these blue kings, maladroit and ashamed
Let their great white wings sink
Like an oar dragging under the water's plane.
The winged visitor, so awkward and weak!
So recently beautiful, now comic and ugly!
One sailor grinds a pipe into his beak,
Another, limping, mimics the infirm bird that once could fly.
The poet is like the prince of the clouds
Who haunts the storm and laughs at lightning.
He's exiled to the ground and its hooting crowds;
His giant wings prevent him from walking.
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Written by
Barry Tebb |
I want a true history of my city
**** THE DE LACY FAMILY AND DOUBLE
**** JOHN OF GAUNT ESPECIALLY
And all his descendants
With their particular vilenesses -
I met one in the sixties
Who had all the coldness of Himmler
So svelte and adored by the cognoscenti.
I want a history responsive
To the needs of the working-class
One that will minute the back-to-backs
Spread over the city like a seamless robe
SO **** CUTHBERT BRODERICK’S TOWN HALL
BRIDEWELL AND MAGISTRACY.
I want a history of the culture
Of the working class and not
Hoggart’s slimy gone-up-in-the-world
Jabber for the curious bourgeoisie
He was especially maladroit
On working-class sexuality
A voyeur picking humorous moments
To show the ignorance of the class
He sprang from. “Anything was an occasion” -
Or did he mean ‘excuse’? - “for intercourse,
Even a visit to the chip-shop”.
O for the gentleness
And the quiet intimacy
And joyful spontaneity
Of working-class sexuality
Reading Shelley’s ‘Defence of Poetry’
Sitting on a bus by a girl who, smiling, said,
“I told Jack if he was finished with me
He wasn’t having any but he pulled me
Into the bushes laughing all the way
So what could I say?”
I want a history of the warmth
Of working-class mothers
Explaining the mysteries of periods.
To their adolescent daughters and the
Revelations of working-class brides.
I want a history of family outings
To Temple Newsam where I saw an ass
Eating straw from the steel manger
Of Christ.
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