Famous Bodies Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Bodies poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous bodies poems. These examples illustrate what a famous bodies poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

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The Tale Of The Forest

by Mihai Eminescu
Mighty emperor is the forest, 
High dominion does he wield, 
And a thousand races prosper 
'Neath the shelter of his shield. 

The moon, the sun and Lucifer 
Do round his kingdom ever sphere;  
While lords and ladies of his court 
Are of the noble race of deer. 

Hares, his heralds and his postmen, 
Carry rapidly his mails; 
Birds his...Read more of this...

Lux My Fair Falcon

by Sir Thomas Wyatt
 Lux, my fair falcon, and your fellows all, 
How well pleasant it were your liberty. 
Ye not forsake me that fair might ye befall, 
But they that sometime liked my company, 
Like lice away from dead bodies they crawl. 
Lo, what a proof in light adversity. 
But ye, my birds, I swear by all your bells, 
Ye be my...Read more of this...

The Garden by the Bridge

by Adela Florence Cory Nicolson
   The Desert sands are heated, parched and dreary,
     The tigers rend alive their quivering prey
   In the near Jungle; here the kites rise, weary,
     Too gorged with living food to fly away.

   All night the hungry jackals howl together
     Over the...Read more of this...

A draught of wine would make a mountain dance,

by Omar Khayyam
A draught of wine would make a mountain dance,
Base is the churl who looks at wine askance;
Wine is a soul our bodies to inspire,
A truce to this vain talk of temperance!...Read more of this...

E.P. Ode Pour Lelection De Son Sepulchre

by Ezra Pound
 For three years, out of key with his time,
He strove to resuscitate the dead art
Of poetry; to maintain "the sublime"
In the old sense. Wrong from the start--

No, hardly, but seeing he had been born
In a half savage country, out of date;
Bent resolutely on wringing lilies from the acorn;
Capaneus; trout for factitious bait;

Idmen gar toi panth, hos eni troie
Caught in...Read more of this...

The Great Yellow River Inundation in China

by William Topaz McGonagall
 'Twas in the year of 1887, and on the 28th of September,
Which many people of Honan, in China, will long remember;
Especially those that survived the mighty deluge,
That fled to the mountains, and tops of trees, for refuge. 

The river burst its embankments suddenly at dead of night,
And the rushing torrent swept all before it left and right;
All over the...Read more of this...

A Man Young And Old: VI. His Memories

by William Butler Yeats
 We should be hidden from their eyes,
Being but holy shows
And bodies broken like a thorn
Whereon the bleak north blows,
To think of buried Hector
And that none living knows.

The women take so little stock
In what I do or say
They'd sooner leave their cosseting
To hear a jackass bray;
My arms are like the twisted thorn
And yet there beauty lay;

The first of all the...Read more of this...

Ode to the Goddess Ceres

by Thomas Moore
 Dear Goddess of Corn, whom the ancients we know,
(Among other odd whims of those comical bodies,)
Adorn'd with somniferous poppies, to show,
Thou wert always a true Country-gentleman's Goddess.

Behold in his best, shooting-jacket, before thee,
An eloquent 'Squire, who most humbly beseeches,
Great Queen of the Mark-lane (if the thing doesn't bore thee),
Thou'lt read o'er the last of his -- never-last speeches.

Ah! Ceres,...Read more of this...

Dream Song 11: His mother goes. The mother comes and goes

by John Berryman
 His mother goes. The mother comes & goes.
Chen Lung's too came, came and crampt & then
that dragoner's mother was gone.
It seem we don't have no good bed to lie on,
forever. While he drawing his first breath,
while skinning his knees,

while he was so beastly with love for Charlotte Coquet
he skated up & down in front of her house
wishing he could,...Read more of this...

The Purse-Seine

by Robinson Jeffers
 Our sardine fishermen work at night in the dark
 of the moon; daylight or moonlight
They could not tell where to spread the net, 
 unable to see the phosphorescence of the 
 shoals of fish.
They work northward from Monterey, coasting 
 Santa Cruz; off New Year's Point or off 
 Pigeon Point
The look-out man will see some lakes of...Read more of this...

The Ghosts of the Buffaloes

by Vachel Lindsay
 Last night at black midnight I woke with a cry,
The windows were shaking, there was thunder on high,
The floor was a-tremble, the door was a-jar,
White fires, crimson fires, shone from afar.
I rushed to the door yard. The city was gone.
My home was a hut without orchard or lawn.
It was mud-smear and logs near a whispering stream,
Nothing else built by...Read more of this...

Years End

by Marilyn Hacker
 for Audre Lorde and Sonny Wainwright

Twice in my quickly disappearing forties
someone called while someone I loved and I were
making love to tell me another woman had died of cancer.

Seven years apart, and two different lovers:
underneath the numbers, how lives are braided,
how those women's death and lives, lived and died, were
interleaved also.

Does lip touch on lip a memento mori?
Does the...Read more of this...

Necrological

by John Crowe Ransom
 The friar had said his paternosters duly 
And scourged his limbs, and afterwards would have slept; 
But with much riddling his head became unruly, 
He arose, from the quiet monastery he crept. 

Dawn lightened the place where the battle had been won. 
The people were dead -- it is easy he thought to die -- 
These dead remained, but...Read more of this...

In a Castle

by Amy Lowell
 I
Over the yawning chimney hangs the fog. Drip 
-- hiss -- drip -- hiss --
fall the raindrops on the oaken log which burns, and steams,
and smokes the ceiling beams. Drip -- hiss -- the rain 
never stops.

The wide, state bed shivers beneath its velvet coverlet. Above, 
dim,
in the smoke, a tarnished coronet gleams dully. Overhead 
hammers and chinks
the rain....Read more of this...

Neros Term

by Constantine P Cavafy
 Nero was not worried when he heard
the prophecy of the Delphic Oracle.
"Let him fear the seventy three years."
He still had ample time to enjoy himself.
He is thirty. More than sufficient
is the term the god allots him
to prepare for future perils.

Now he will return to Rome slightly tired,
but delightfully tired from this journey,
full of days of enjoyment --
at the theaters,...Read more of this...

Don Juan In Hades

by Charles Baudelaire
 WHEN Juan sought the subterranean flood, 
And paid his obolus on the Stygian shore, 
Charon, the proud and sombre beggar, stood 
With one strong, vengeful hand on either oar. 

With open robes and bodies agonised, 
Lost women writhed beneath that darkling sky; 
There were sounds as of victims sacrificed: 
Behind him all the dark was one long cry. 

And...Read more of this...

The Fish

by Marianne Moore
 wade
through black jade.
 Of the crow-blue mussel-shells, one keeps
 adjusting the ash-heaps;
 opening and shutting itself like

an
injured fan.
 The barnacles which encrust the side
 of the wave, cannot hide
 there for the submerged shafts of the

sun,
split like spun
 glass, move themselves with spotlight swiftness
 into the crevices—
 in and out, illuminating

the
turquoise sea
 of bodies. The water drives a wedge
...Read more of this...

Drunk

by D. H. Lawrence
 Too far away, oh love, I know, 
To save me from this haunted road, 
Whose lofty roses break and blow 
On a night-sky bent with a load 

Of lights: each solitary rose, 
Each arc-lamp golden does expose 
Ghost beyond ghost of a blossom, shows 
Night blenched with a thousand snows. 

Of hawthorn and of lilac trees, 
White lilac; shows...Read more of this...

The Garden

by Louise Gluck
 How vainly men themselves amaze
To win the Palm, the Oke, or Bayes;
And their uncessant Labours see
Crown'd from some single Herb or Tree,
Whose short and narrow verged Shade
Does prudently their Toyles upbraid;
While all Flow'rs and all Trees do close
To weave the Garlands of repose.

Fair quiet, have I found thee here,
And Innocence thy Sister dear!
Mistaken long, I sought you then
In busie...Read more of this...

Elegy For My Father

by Annie Finch
 HLF, August 8, 1918—August 22, 1997

“Bequeath us to no earthly shore until
Is answered in the vortex of our grave
The seal’s wide spindrift gaze towards paradise.”
—Hart Crane, “Voyages”

“If a lion could talk, we couldn’t understand it”
—Ludwig Wittgenstein

Under the ocean that stretches out wordlessly
past the long edge of the last human shore,
there are deep windows the waves haven't opened,
where night is...Read more of this...

Counting Small-boned Bodies

by Robert Bly
Let's count the bodies over again.

If we could only make the bodies smaller 
The size of skulls 
We could make a whole plain white with skulls in the moonlight!

If we could only make the bodies smaller 
Maybe we could get
A whole year's kill in front of us on a desk!

If we could only make the bodies smaller 
We could fit
A...Read more of this...

Everything that lives about us

by Emile Verhaeren
Everything that lives about us in the fragile and gentle light, frail grasses, tender branches, hollyhocks, and the shadow that brushes them lightly by, and the wind that knots them, and the singing and hopping birds that swarm riotously in the sun like clusters of jewels,— everything that lives in the fine ruddy garden loves us artlessly, and we—we love...Read more of this...

Tezcotzinco

by Alan Seeger
 Though thou art now a ruin bare and cold, 
Thou wert sometime the garden of a king. 
The birds have sought a lovelier place to sing. 
The flowers are few. It was not so of old. 
It was not thus when hand in hand there strolled 
Through arbors perfumed with undying Spring 
Bare bodies beautiful, brown, glistening, 
Decked with...Read more of this...

A Poets Voice XV

by Kahlil Gibran
 Part One


The power of charity sows deep in my heart, and I reap and gather the wheat in bundles and give them to the hungry. 

My soul gives life to the grapevine and I press its bunches and give the juice to the thirsty. 

Heaven fills my lamp with oil and I place it at my window to direct...Read more of this...

Cotton Song

by Jean Toomer
 Come, brother, come. Lets lift it;
come now, hewit! roll away!
Shackles fall upon the Judgment Day
But lets not wait for it. 

God's body's got a soul,
Bodies like to roll the soul,
Cant blame God if we dont roll,
Come, brother, roll, roll!

Cotton bales are the fleecy way,
Weary sinner's bare feet trod,
Softly, softly to the throne of God,
"We aint agwine t wait until...Read more of this...

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