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Best Famous Quarter Hour Poems

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

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Written by Anne Sexton | Create an image from this poem

The Ambition Bird

 So it has come to this
insomnia at 3:15 A.M., 
the clock tolling its engine 

like a frog following 
a sundial yet having an electric 
seizure at the quarter hour. 

The business of words keeps me awake. 
I am drinking cocoa, 
that warm brown mama. 

I would like a simple life 
yet all night I am laying 
poems away in a long box. 

It is my immortality box, 
my lay-away plan, 
my coffin. 

All night dark wings 
flopping in my heart. 
Each an ambition bird. 

The bird wants to be dropped 
from a high place like Tallahatchie Bridge. 

He wants to light a kitchen match 
and immolate himself. 

He wants to fly into the hand of Michelangelo 
anc dome out painted on a ceiling. 

He wants to pierce the hornet's nest 
and come out with a long godhead. 

He wants to take bread and wine 
and bring forth a man happily floating in the Caribbean. 

He wants to be pressed out like a key 
so he can unlock the Magi. 

He wants to take leave among strangers 
passing out bits of his heart like hors d'oeuvres. 

He wants to die changing his clothes 
and bolt for the sun like a diamond. 

He wants, I want. 
Dear God, wouldn't it be 
good enough to just drink cocoa? 

I must get a new bird 
and a new immortality box. 
There is folly enough inside this one.


Written by James A Emanuel | Create an image from this poem

Poet As Fisherman

 I fish for words
to say what I fish for,
half-catch sometimes.

I have caught little pan fish flashing sunlight
(yellow perch, crappies, blue-gills),
lighthearted reeled them in,
filed them on stringers on the shore.
A nice mess, we called them,
and ate with our fingers, laughing.

Once, dreaming of fish in far-off waters,
I hooked a two-foot carp in Michigan,
on nylon line so fine
a fellow-fisher shook his head:
"He'll break it, sure; he'll roll on it and get away."
A quarter-hour it took to bring him in;
back-and-forth toward my net,
syllable by syllable I let him have his way
till he lay flopping on the grass—
beside no other, himself enough in size:
he fed the three of us (each differently)
new strategies of hook, leader, line, and rod.

Working well, I am a deep-water man,
a "Daredevil" silver wobbler
my lure for lake trout in midsummer.

Oh, I have tried the moon, thermometers—
the bait and time and place all by the rule—
fishing for the masterpiece,
the imperial muskellunge in Minnesota,
the peerless pike in Canada.
I have propped a well-thumbed book
against the butt of my favorite rod
and fished from my heart.

Yet, for my labors,
all I have to show
are tactics, lore—
so little I know
of that pea-sized brain I am casting for,
to think it could swim
with the phantom-words
that lure me to this shore.

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry