Famous Breakfast Poems by Famous Poets

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

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After Auschwitz

by Anne Sexton
 Anger, 
as black as a hook, 
overtakes me. 
Each day, 
each Nazi
took, at 8:00 A.M., a baby
and sauteed him for breakfast
in his frying pan. 

And death looks on with a casual eye
and picks at the dirt under his fingernail. 

Man is evil,
I say aloud.
Man is a flower
that should be burnt,
I say aloud.
Man
is a bird full of mud,
I say aloud....Read more of this...

I have never seen Volcanoes

by Emily Dickinson
 I have never seen "Volcanoes" --
But, when Travellers tell
How those old -- phlegmatic mountains
Usually so still --

Bear within -- appalling Ordnance,
Fire, and smoke, and gun,
Taking Villages for breakfast,
And appalling Men --

If the stillness is Volcanic
In the human face
When upon a pain Titanic
Features keep their place --

If at length the smouldering anguish
Will not overcome --
And the palpitating Vineyard
In the dust,...Read more of this...

Lines in Praise of the Lyric Club Banquet

by William Topaz McGonagall
 Which was Held in the Queens Hotel, Perth, on the Evening of 5th September 1894


'Twas in the year of 1894, and on the 5th of September,
Which for a long time I will remember,
And the gentlemen I entertained in the city of Perth,
Which is one of the grandest cities upon the earth. 

At the Banquet there were gentlemen of high...Read more of this...

The Marble Faun

by Victor Hugo
 ("Il semblait grelotter.") 
 
 {XXXVI., December, 1837.} 


 He seemed to shiver, for the wind was keen. 
 'Twas a poor statue underneath a mass 
 Of leafless branches, with a blackened back 
 And a green foot—an isolated Faun 
 In old deserted park, who, bending forward, 
 Half-merged himself in the entangled boughs, 
 Half in...Read more of this...

Eternity

by James Lee Jobe
  for C. G. Macdonald, 1956-2006


Charlie, sunrise is a three-legged mongrel dog,

going deaf, already blind in one eye,

answering to the unlikely name, 'Lucky.'


The sky, at gray-blue dawn, is a football field painted 

by smiling artists. Each artist has 3 arms, 3 hands, 3 legs.

One leg drags behind, leaving a trail, leaving a mark.


The future resembles a cloudy dream 

where...Read more of this...

Omaha

by Carl Sandburg
 RED barns and red heifers spot the green
grass circles around Omaha—the farmers
haul tanks of cream and wagon loads of cheese.

Shale hogbacks across the river at Council
Bluffs—and shanties hang by an eyelash to
the hill slants back around Omaha.

A span of steel ties up the kin of Iowa and
Nebraska across the yellow, big-hoofed Missouri River.
Omaha, the roughneck, feeds armies,
Eats and swears...Read more of this...

The Fury Of Cocks

by Anne Sexton
 There they are 
drooping over the breakfast plates, 
angel-like, 
folding in their sad wing, 
animal sad, 
and only the night before 
there they were 
playing the banjo. 
Once more the day's light comes 
with its immense sun, 
its mother trucks, 
its engines of amputation. 
Whereas last night 
the cock knew its way home, 
as stiff as a hammer, 
battering...Read more of this...

The Fury Of Sunrises

by Anne Sexton
 Darkness 
as black as your eyelid, 
poketricks of stars, 
the yellow mouth, 
the smell of a stranger, 
dawn coming up, 
dark blue, 
no stars, 
the smell of a love, 
warmer now 
as authenic as soap, 
wave after wave 
of lightness 
and the birds in their chains 
going mad with throat noises, 
the birds in their tracks 
yelling into their...Read more of this...

A Historical Breakfast

by Russell Edson
 A man is bringing a cup of coffee to his face, 
tilting it to his mouth. It's historical, he thinks. 
He scratches his head: another historical event. 
He really ought to rest, he's making an awful lot of 
history this morning.
 Oh my, now he's buttering toast, another piece of 
history is being made.
 He wonders why it should...Read more of this...

A little East of Jordan

by Emily Dickinson
 A little East of Jordan,
Evangelists record,
A Gymnast and an Angel
Did wrestle long and hard --

Till morning touching mountain --
And Jacob, waxing strong,
The Angel begged permission
To Breakfast -- to return --

Not so, said cunning Jacob!
"I will not let thee go
Except thou bless me" -- Stranger!
The which acceded to --

Light swung the silver fleeces
"Peniel" Hills beyond,
And the bewildered Gymnast
Found he had...Read more of this...

Victory comes late --

by Emily Dickinson
 Victory comes late --
And is held low to freezing lips --
Too rapt with frost
To take it --
How sweet it would have tasted --
Just a Drop --
Was God so economical?
His Table's spread too high for Us --
Unless We dine on tiptoe --
Crumbs -- fit such little mouths --
Cherries -- suit Robbins --
The Eagle's Golden Breakfast strangles -- Them --
God keep...Read more of this...

Breakfast

by Robert William Service
 Of all the meals that glad my day
My morning one's the best;
Purveyed me on a silver tray,
Immaculately dressed.
I rouse me when the dawn is bright;
I leap into the sea,
Returning with a rare delight
To honey, toast and tea.

My appetite was razor edged
When I was in my prime;
To eggs and bacon I was pledged . . .
Ala! the March of Time;
For...Read more of this...

The Bird must sing to earn the Crumb

by Emily Dickinson
 The Bird must sing to earn the Crumb
What merit have the Tune
No Breakfast if it guaranty

The Rose content may bloom
To gain renown of Lady's Drawer
But if the Lady come
But once a Century, the Rose
Superfluous become --...Read more of this...

Morning at the Window

by T S (Thomas Stearns) Eliot
 THEY are rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchens,
And along the trampled edges of the street
I am aware of the damp souls of housemaids
Sprouting despondently at area gates.

The brown waves of fog toss up to me
Twisted faces from the bottom of the street,
And tear from a passer-by with muddy skirts
An aimless smile that hovers in the air
And vanishes along the...Read more of this...

What Almost Every Woman Knows Sooner Or Later

by Ogden Nash
 Husbands are things that wives have to get used to putting up with.
And with whom they breakfast with and sup with.
They interfere with the discipline of nurseries,
And forget anniversaries,
And when they have been particularly remiss
They think they can cure everything with a great big kiss,
And when you tell them about something awful they have done they just
look unbearably patient...Read more of this...

Two Strangers Breakfast

by Carl Sandburg
 THE LAW says you and I belong to each other, George.
The law says you are mine and I am yours, George.
And there are a million miles of white snowstorms, a million furnaces of hell,
Between the chair where you sit and the chair where I sit.
The law says two strangers shall eat breakfast together after nights on the horn of...Read more of this...

A Miracle For Breakfast

by Elizabeth Bishop
 At six o'clock we were waiting for coffee, 
waiting for coffee and the charitable crumb 
that was going to be served from a certain balcony 
—like kings of old, or like a miracle. 
It was still dark. One foot of the sun 
steadied itself on a long ripple in the river. 

The first ferry of the day had just...Read more of this...

The Wounded Breakfast

by Russell Edson
 A huge shoe mounts up from the horizon, 
squealing and grinding forward on small wheels, 
even as a man sitting to breakfast on his veranda 
is suddenly engulfed in a great shadow, almost 
the size of the night . . . 
 He looks up and sees a huge shoe 
ponderously mounting out of the earth. 
 Up in...Read more of this...

The Alarm

by Thomas Hardy
 In Memory of one of the Writer's Family who was a Volunteer during the War
with Napoleon

In a ferny byway
Near the great South-Wessex Highway,
A homestead raised its breakfast-smoke aloft;
The dew-damps still lay steamless, for the sun had made no sky-way,
And twilight cloaked the croft.

'Twas hard to realize on
This snug side the mute horizon
That beyond it hostile armaments might steer,
Save from...Read more of this...

The New Mistress

by A E Housman
 "Oh, sick I am to see you, will you never let me be? 
You may be good for something, but you are not good for me. 
Oh, go where you are wanted, for you are not wanted here. 
And that was all the farewell when I parted from my dear. 

"I will go where I am wanted, to a...Read more of this...

The Land of Nod

by Robert Louis Stevenson
 From breakfast on through all the day
At home among my friends I stay,
But every night I go abroad
Afar into the land of Nod.

All by myself I have to go,
With none to tell me what to do --
All alone beside the streams
And up the mountain-sides of dreams.

The strangest things are there for me,
Both things to eat and things to see,
And...Read more of this...

The Sins of Kalamazoo

by Carl Sandburg
 THE SINS of Kalamazoo are neither scarlet nor crimson.

The sins of Kalamazoo are a convict gray, a dishwater drab.

And the people who sin the sins of Kalamazoo are neither scarlet nor crimson.

They run to drabs and grays—and some of them sing they shall be washed whiter than snow—and some: We should worry.

Yes, Kalamazoo is a spot on the map
And...Read more of this...

Morning -- means Milking -- to the Farmer

by Emily Dickinson
 "Morning" -- means "Milking" -- to the Farmer --
Dawn -- to the Teneriffe --
Dice -- to the Maid --
Morning means just Risk -- to the Lover --
Just revelation -- to the Beloved --

Epicures -- date a Breakfast -- by it --
Brides -- an Apocalypse --
Worlds -- a Flood --
Faint-going Lives -- Their Lapse from Sighing --
Faith -- The Experiment...Read more of this...

Henry King

by Hilaire Belloc
 The Chief Defect of Henry King
Was chewing little bits of String.
At last he swallowed some which tied
Itself in ugly Knots inside.

Physicians of the Utmost Fame
Were called at once; but when they came
They answered, as they took their Fees,
"There is no Cure for this Disease.

"Henry will very soon be dead.''
His Parents stood about his Bed
Lamenting his Untimely Death,
When Henry, with...Read more of this...

Arrival At Santos

by Elizabeth Bishop
 Here is a coast; here is a harbor; 
here, after a meager diet of horizon, is some scenery: 
impractically shaped and--who knows?--self-pitying mountains, 
sad and harsh beneath their frivolous greenery,

with a little church on top of one. And warehouses,
some of them painted a feeble pink, or blue, 
and some tall, uncertain palms. Oh, tourist,
is this how this country is...Read more of this...

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