Famous Calloused Poems by Famous Poets

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

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A Rolling Stone

...r once I know in the long ago,
 They made a slave of me.

In a flannel shirt from earth's clean dirt,
 Here, pal, is my calloused hand!
Oh, I love each day as a rover may,
 Nor seek to understand.
To enjoy is good enough for me;
 The gipsy of God am I;
Then here's a hail to each flaring dawn!
And here's a cheer to the night that's gone!
And may I go a-roaming on
 Until the day I die!

Then every star shall sing to me
Its song of liberty;
And every morn shall bring to me
Its m...Read more of this...
by Service, Robert William


A Star in a Stoneboat

...death and sin,
It yet has poles, and only needs a spin
To show its worldly nature and begin

To chafe and shuffle in my calloused palm
And run off in strange tangents with my arm,
As fish do with the line in first alarm.

Such as it is, it promises the prize
Of the one world complete in any size
That I am like to compass, fool or wise....Read more of this...
by Frost, Robert

Divine Device

...be loss or gain
To hapless human-kind
If we could feel no pain
Of body or of mind?
Would it be for our good
If we were calloused so,
And God in mercy should
End all our woe?

I wonder and I doubt:
It is my bright belief
We should be poor without
The gift of grief.
For suffering may be
A blessing, not a bane,
And though we sorrow we
Should praise for Pain.

Aye, it's my brave belief
That grateful we should be,
Since in the heart of grief
Is love and sympathy,
We do not weep i...Read more of this...
by Service, Robert William

I Said Coffee

...I said coffee
I didn't say,
"would you
like to cup
my warm
soft breasts
in your
un-calloused,
long,
tapered,
ring less fingered
hands?"

I said coffee
I didn't say,
"would you
like to
run your tongue
along my neck
just below
my left ear-lobe?"

I said coffee
I didn't say,
"would you
like to
hold me
in your arms
and feel my heart
skip beats
as you press your
hard, lean body
up against mine
until I melt
into you
with desire?"

I said coffee
...Read more of this...
by John, Sharmagne Leland-St

La Vita Nuova

...Last summer, in the blue heat,
Over the beach, in the burning air,
A legless beggar lurched on calloused fists
To where I waited with the sun-dazed birds.
He said, "The summer boils away. My life
Joins to another life; this parched skin
Dries and dies and flakes away,
Becomes your costume when the torn leaves blow."

--Thus in the losing autumn,
Over the streets, I now lurch
Legless to your side and speak your name
Under a gray sky ripped apart
By thu...Read more of this...
by Kees, Weldon


The Little Piou-Piou

...jour de gloire est arrivé.

To-day you would scarce recognise us,
 Such veterans war-wise are we;
So grimy and hard, so calloused and scarred,
 So "crummy", yet gay as can be.
We've finished with trousers of scarlet,
 They're giving us breeches of blue,
With a helmet instead of a cap on our head, -
 Yet still we're the little piou-piou.
 Nous les aurons!

The jesting, unresting piou-piou;
The cheering, unfearing piou-piou;
The keep-your-head-level and fight-like-the-devil;
Th...Read more of this...
by Service, Robert William

The Road To Haworth Moor

...he day after our move with Brenda alone,

Scrubbing the boards. She saw him scowl as he punched the limp turf

With his calloused hands, demanding payment, angry at her innocence.



4

Brudenell Road had no garden to speak of,

A couple of feet at the front with a broken wall

And the back bare and hard from children’s play,

The privet was matted with shards of glass, worn tennis balls and broken toys,

So tattered I cut it back to the wall, I sat on the top step and read,
...Read more of this...
by Tebb, Barry

The Song Of The Wage-Slave

...f the parsons I've met --
All I want is just quiet, just to rest and forget.
Look at my face, toil-furrowed; look at my calloused hands;
Master, I've done Thy bidding, wrought in Thy many lands --
Wrought for the little masters, big-bellied they be, and rich;
I've done their desire for a daily hire, and I die like a dog in a ditch.
I have used the strength Thou hast given, Thou knowest I did not shirk;
Threescore years of labor -- Thine be the long day's work.
And now, Big Ma...Read more of this...
by Service, Robert William

To G. M. W. And G. F. W

...y’s dead and he don’t care,
 So cancel him, and let him snore;
His Donkey has been raised in air
 So oft he’s tough and calloused o’er;
Our Miller—dusty-headed man—
 Follows the best donk-boosting code:
Our Son—dispute it no one can—
 Sings gaily down the Tibur Road.

VII

This, then, must be this Critic’s scream:—
 The donk was boosted well and high,
And, ergo! falling in the stream,
 Isn’t and ain’t and can’t be dry;
Nor is your book. Which is to say
 It is no gloomy episod...Read more of this...
by Butler, Ellis Parker

To The Man Of The High North

...Zone.

These will I sing, and if one of you linger
 Over my pages in the Long, Long Night,
And on some lone line lay a calloused finger,
 Saying: "Lo! It's human-true--it hits me right";
Then will I count this loving toil well spent;
Then will I dream awhile--content, content....Read more of this...
by Service, Robert William

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