Famous Complaining Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Donner Party

by Richard Brautigan
 Forsaken, fucking in the cold, 
eating each other, lost 
runny noses, 
complaining all the time 
like so many 
people 
that we know...Read more of this...

The House Of Dust: Part 04: 06: Cinema

by Conrad Aiken
 As evening falls,
The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls
Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving,
Moving like music, secret and rich and warm.
How shall we live to-night, where shall we turn?
To what new light or darkness yearn?
A thousand winding stairs lead down before us;
And one by one in myriads we descend
By lamplit flowered walls, long balustrades,
Through half-lit...Read more of this...

90. Epistle to James Smith

by Robert Burns
 DEAR SMITH, the slee’st, pawkie thief,
That e’er attempted stealth or rief!
Ye surely hae some warlock-brief
 Owre human hearts;
For ne’er a bosom yet was prief
 Against your arts.


For me, I swear by sun an’ moon,
An’ ev’ry star that blinks aboon,
Ye’ve cost me twenty pair o’ shoon,
 Just gaun to see you;
An’ ev’ry ither pair that’s done,
 Mair taen I’m wi’...Read more of this...

Hiawathas Lamentation

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
 In those days the Evil Spirits,
All the Manitos of mischief,
Fearing Hiawatha's wisdom,
And his love for Chibiabos,
Jealous of their faithful friendship,
And their noble words and actions,
Made at length a league against them,
To molest them and destroy them.
Hiawatha, wise and wary,
Often said to Chibiabos,
"O my brother! do not leave me,
Lest the Evil Spirits harm you!"
Chibiabos, young and heedless,
Laughing shook his coal-black...Read more of this...

Flee On Your Donkey

by Anne Sexton
 Because there was no other place
to flee to,
I came back to the scene of the disordered senses,
came back last night at midnight,
arriving in the thick June night
without luggage or defenses,
giving up my car keys and my cash,
keeping only a pack of Salem cigarettes
the way a child holds on to a toy.
I signed myself in where a stranger
puts the inked-in...Read more of this...

The Nymph Complaining For The Death Of Her Faun

by Andrew Marvell
 The wanton Troopers riding by
Have shot my Faun and it will dye.
Ungentle men! They cannot thrive
To kill thee. Thou neer didst alive
Them any harm: alas nor cou'd
Thy death yet do them any good.
I'me sure I never wisht them ill;
Nor do I for all this; nor will:
But, if my simple Pray'rs may yet
Prevail with Heaven to forget
Thy murder, I will...Read more of this...

I like to see it lap the Miles --

by Emily Dickinson
 I like to see it lap the Miles --
And lick the Valleys up --
And stop to feed itself at Tanks --
And then -- prodigious step

Around a Pile of Mountains --
And supercilious peer
In Shanties -- by the sides of Roads --
And then a Quarry pare

To fit its Ribs
And crawl between
Complaining all the while
In horrid -- hooting stanza --
Then chase itself...Read more of this...

I like to see it lap the miles

by Emily Dickinson
I like to see it lap the miles,
And lick the valleys up,
And stop to feed itself at tanks;
And then, prodigious, step

Around a pile of mountains,
And, supercilious, peer
In shanties by the sides of roads;
And then a quarry pare

To fit its sides, and crawl between,
Complaining all the while
In horrid, hooting stanza;
Then chase itself down hill

And neigh like Boanerges;
Then, punctual as a star,
Stop--docile...Read more of this...

To the Name above every Name the Name of Jesus

by Richard Crashaw
 I sing the Name which None can say
But touch’t with An interiour Ray:
The Name of our New Peace; our Good:
Our Blisse: and Supernaturall Blood:
The Name of All our Lives and Loves.
Hearken, And Help, ye holy Doves!
The high-born Brood of Day; you bright
Candidates of blissefull Light,
The Heirs Elect of Love; whose Names belong
Unto The everlasting life of Song;
All ye wise...Read more of this...

Preparation

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 We must not force events, but rather make
The heart soil ready for their coming, as
The earth spreads carpets for the feet of Spring, 
Or, with the strengthening tonic of the frost, 
Prepares for Winter. Should a July noon
Burst suddenly upon a frozen world
Small joy would follow, even tho' that world
Were longing for the Summer. Should the sting
Of sharp December...Read more of this...

Blueberries

by Robert Frost
 "You ought to have seen what I saw on my way 
To the village, through Mortenson's pasture to-day: 
Blueberries as big as the end of your thumb, 
Real sky-blue, and heavy, and ready to drum 
In the cavernous pail of the first one to come! 
And all ripe together, not some of them green 
And some of them ripe!...Read more of this...

Song For Saint Cecilias Day 1687

by John Dryden
 From Harmony, from heavenly Harmony
 This universal frame began:
 When nature underneath a heap
 Of jarring atoms lay
 And could not heave her head,
The tuneful voice was heard from high,
 Arise, ye more than dead!
Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry
In order to their stations leap,
 And Music's power obey.
From Harmony, from heavenly harmony
 This universal frame began:
...Read more of this...

Thursday

by Edna St. Vincent Millay
 AND if I loved you Wednesday,
Well, what is that to you?
I do not love you Thursday­ 
So much is true. 

And why you come complaining
Is more than I can see.
I loved you Wednesday,­yes­but what 
Is that to me?...Read more of this...

Longing

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
If you could sit with me beside the sea to-day,
And whisper with me sweetest dreamings o’er and o’er;
I think I should not find the clouds so dim and gray,
And not so loud the waves complaining at the shore.

If you could sit with me upon the shore to-day,
And hold my hand in yours as in the days of old,
I think I...Read more of this...

The Captive

by Rudyard Kipling
 Not with an outcry to Allah nor any complaining
He answered his name at the muster and stood to the chaining.
When the twin anklets were nipped on the leg-bars that held them,
He brotherly greeted the armourers stooping to weld them.
Ere the sad dust of the marshalled feet of the chain-gang swallowed him,
Observing him nobly at ease, I alighted and followed...Read more of this...

527. Song—Address to the Woodlark

by Robert Burns
 O STAY, sweet warbling woodlark, stay,
Nor quit for me the trembling spray,
A hapless lover courts thy lay,
 Thy soothing, fond complaining.
Again, again that tender part,
That I may catch thy melting art;
For surely that wad touch her heart
 Wha kills me wi’ disdaining.


Say, was thy little mate unkind,
And heard thee as the careless wind?
Oh, nocht but love and sorrow join’d,
...Read more of this...

The Widow

by Walter de la Mare
 Cold was the night wind, drifting fast the snows fell,
Wide were the downs and shelterless and naked,
When a poor Wanderer struggled on her journey
Weary and way-sore.

Drear were the downs, more dreary her reflexions;
Cold was the night wind, colder was her bosom!
She had no home, the world was all before her,
She had no shelter.

Fast o'er the bleak heath rattling drove...Read more of this...

The Curse Of Cromwell

by William Butler Yeats
 You ask what - I have found, and far and wide I go:
Nothing but Cromwell's house and Cromwell's murderous crew,
The lovers and the dancers are beaten into the clay,
And the tall men and the swordsmen and the horsemen, where are they?
And there is an old beggar wandering in his pride - -
His fathers served their fathers before Christ was...Read more of this...

Our Blessings

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 Sitting to-day in the sunshine, 
That touched me with fingers of love, 
I thought of the manifold blessings
God scatters on earth, from above; 
And they seemed, as I numbered them over, 
Far more than we merit, or need, 
And all that we lack is the angels
To make earth a heaven indeed.

The winter brings long, pleasant evenings, 
The spring brings...Read more of this...

Love is enough

by William Morris
 LOVE is enough: though the World be a-waning, 
And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining, 
 Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover 
The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder, 
Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder, 
 And this day draw a veil over all...Read more of this...

448. Song—Young Jamie pride of a' the plain

by Robert Burns
 YOUNG JAMIE, pride of a’ the plain,
Sae gallant and sae gay a swain,
Thro’ a’ our lasses he did rove,
And reign’d resistless King of Love.


But now, wi’ sighs and starting tears,
He strays amang the woods and breirs;
Or in the glens and rocky caves,
His sad complaining dowie raves:—


“I wha sae late did range and rove,
And chang’d with every moon my love,
I...Read more of this...

Died of Wounds

by Siegfried Sassoon
 His wet white face and miserable eyes 
Brought nurses to him more than groans and sighs: 
But hoarse and low and rapid rose and fell 
His troubled voice: he did the business well. 

The ward grew dark; but he was still complaining 
And calling out for ‘Dickie’. ‘Curse the Wood! 
‘It’s time to go. O Christ, and what’s the...Read more of this...

Those Two

by Allen Ginsberg
 That tree said
 I don't like that white car under me,
 it smells gasoline
That other tree next to it said
 O you're always complaining
 you're a neurotic
 you can see by the way you're bent over.


 July 6, 1981, 8 p.m....Read more of this...

Step by step, day by day

by Emile Verhaeren
Step by step, day by day, age has come and placed his hands upon the bare forehead of our love, and has looked upon it with his dimmer eyes.
And in the fair garden shrivelled by July, the flowers, the groves and the living leaves have let fall something of their fervid strength on to the pale pond and the gentle...Read more of this...

The Crystal

by Sidney Lanier
 At midnight, death's and truth's unlocking time,
When far within the spirit's hearing rolls
The great soft rumble of the course of things --
A bulk of silence in a mask of sound, --
When darkness clears our vision that by day
Is sun-blind, and the soul's a ravening owl
For truth and flitteth here and there about
Low-lying woody tracts of time and oft
Is minded...Read more of this...

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