Get Your Premium Membership

Famous Concentration Poems by Famous Poets

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

See also:

by Lehman, David
...ld embers
Others lead more dramatic lives.
A few go to Israel.
One of them calls Israel "the ultimate concentration camp."
He tells Jewish jokes.
On the plane he gets tipsy, tries to seduce the stewardess.
People in the Midwest keep telling him reminds them of Woody
He wonders what that means. I'm funny? A sort of nervous
 intellectual type from New York? A Jew?
Around this time somebody accuses him of not being Jewish enough....Read More

by Yeats, William Butler
...ere branches break
The glittering reaches of the flooded lake.

Another emblem there! That stormy white
But seems a concentration of the sky;
And, like the soul, it sails into the sight
And in the morning's gone, no man knows why;
And is so lovely that it sets to right
What knowledge or its lack had set awry,
So atrogantly pure, a child might think
It can be murdered with a spot of ink.

Sound of a stick upon the floor, a sound
From somebody that toils from chair to c...Read More

by Lawrence, D. H.

Oh the terrible ecstasy of the consciousness that I am life!
Oh the miracle of the whole, the widespread, labouring concentration
Swelling mankind like one bud to bring forth the fruit of a dream,
Oh the terror of lifting the innermost I out of the sweep of the impulse of life,
And watching the great Thing labouring through the whole round flesh of the world; 
And striving to catch a glimpse of the shape of the coming dream,
As it quickens within the labouring, white-hot ...Read More

by Eliot, T S (Thomas Stearns)
And the outer compulsion, yet surrounded
By a grace of sense, a white light still and moving,
Erhebung without motion, concentration
Without elimination, both a new world
And the old made explicit, understood
In the completion of its partial ecstasy,
The resolution of its partial horror.
Yet the enchainment of past and future
Woven in the weakness of the changing body,
Protects mankind from heaven and damnation
Which flesh cannot endure.
 Time past and time future
Al...Read More

by Moore, Marianne
Xenophon saw walking by a stream--was and is
a symbol of justice.

This bird watches his chicks with
a maternal concentration-and he's
been mothering the eggs
at night six weeks--his legs
their only weapon of defense.
He is swifter than a horse; he has a foot hard
as a hoof; the leopard

is not more suspicious.How
could he, prized for plumes and eggs and young
used even as a riding-beast, respect men
hiding actor-like in ostrich skins, with the right hand
maki...Read More

by Lowell, Robert
...aster palm.
Flabby, bald, lobotomized,
he drifted in a sheepish calm,
where no agonizing reappraisal
jarred his concentration on the electric chair
hanging like an oasis in his air
of lost connections. . . ....Read More

by Doty, Mark
...affoldings, ancient now,
 visited by no one)
 on the concrete

embankment just
 above the river,
 a sudden density

and concentration
 of trash, so much
 I couldn't pick out

any one thing
 from our rising track
 as it arced onto the bridge

over the fantastic
 accumulation of jetsam
 and contraband

strewn under
 the uncompromising
 vault of heaven.

An unbelievable mess,
 so heaped and scattered
 it seemed the core

of chaos itself--
 but no, the junk was arranged
 in r...Read More

by Betjeman, John
...ric train,
With a thousand Ta's and Pardon's
Daintily alights Elaine;
Hurries down the concrete station
With a frown of concentration,
Out into the outskirt's edges
Where a few surviving hedges
Keep alive our lost Elysium - rural Middlesex again.

Well cut Windsmoor flapping lightly,
Jacqmar scarf of mauve and green
Hiding hair which, Friday nightly,
Delicately drowns in Dreen;
Fair Elaine the bobby-soxer,
Fresh-complexioned with Innoxa,
Gains the garden - father's hobby ...Read More

by Hoagland, Tony
tilting up my head to watch
those planes engrave the sky
in lines so steady and so straight

they implied the enormous concentration
of good men,
but now my eyes flicker

from the in-flight movie
to the stewardess's pantyline,
then back into my book,

where men throw harpoons at something
much bigger and probably
better than themselves,

wanting to kill it,
wanting to see great clouds of blood erupt
to prove that they exist.

Imagine being born and growing up,
rushing th...Read More

by Scannell, Vernon
...tutters its inarticulate grief on glass
Of every lachrymose pane. The children read
Their books or make pretence of concentration,
Each bowed head seems bent in supplication
Or resignation to the fate that waits
In the unmapped forests of the future.
Is it their doomed innocence noon weeps for?

In each diminutive breast a human heart
Pumps out the necessary blood: desires,
Pains and ecstasies surf-ride each singing wave
Which breaks in darkness on the mental shores.<...Read More

by Collins, Billy such a thing,
tossing the dry snow over a mountain
of his bare, round shoulder,
his hair tied in a knot,
a model of concentration.

Sitting is more his speed, if that is the word
for what he does, or does not do.

Even the season is wrong for him.
In all his manifestations, is it not warm or slightly humid?
Is this not implied by his serene expression,
that smile so wide it wraps itself around the waist of the universe?

But here we are, working our way down t...Read More

by Plath, Sylvia not live: it's a sad diagnosis.
They grew their toes and fingers well enough,
Their little foreheads bulged with concentration.
If they missed out on walking about like people
It wasn't for any lack of mother-love.

O I cannot explain what happened to them!
They are proper in shape and number and every part.
They sit so nicely in the pickling fluid!
They smile and smile and smile at me.
And still the lungs won't fill and the heart won't start.

They...Read More

by Davies, William Henry, thou art not perched, 
The air is all around: 
What is it that can keep thee set, 
From falling to the ground? 
The concentration of thy mind 
Supports thee in the air; 
As thou dost watch the small young birgs, 
With such a deadly care. 

My mind has such a hawk as thou, 
It is an evil mood; 
It comes when there's no cause for grief, 
And on my joys doth brood. 
Then do I see my life in parts; 
The earth receives my bones, 
The common air absorbs my mind--- 
It k...Read More

by Jarrell, Randall
...who also adore; 
Even the offerings, a sheaf of wheat, 
A jar and a glass of flowers, are absolutely still 
In natural concentration, as they take their part 
In the salvation of the natural world. 
The time of the world concentrates 
On this one instant: far off in the rocks 
You can see Mary and Joseph and their donkey 
Coming to Bethlehem; on the grassy hillside 
Where their flocks are grazing, the shepherds gesticulate 
In wonder at the star; and so many hundreds 
Of...Read More

by Whitman, Walt
...time, each serves the exquisite transition of death. 

OF seeds dropping into the ground—of birth,
Of the steady concentration of America, inland, upward, to impregnable and swarming
Of what Indiana, Kentucky, Ohio and the rest, are to be, 
Of what a few years will show there in Nebraska, Colorado, Nevada, and the rest; 
(Or afar, mounting the Northern Pacific to Sitka or Aliaska;) 
Of what the feuillage of America is the preparation for—and of what all sight...Read More

by Tebb, Barry
...ageway ‘high on morphine’

And I learned healing is caring as much as knowing,

The slow hard lesson of a lifetime, the concentration

Of a chess master, the footwork of a dancer,

The patience of a scholar and a saint’s humility,

While I have only a poet’s quickness, a journalist’s 

Ability to speed-read and the clumsiness 

Of a circus clown....Read More

by Whitman, Walt
...TO oratists—to male or female, 
Vocalism, measure, concentration, determination, and the divine power to use words. 
Are you full-lung’d and limber-lipp’d from long trial? from vigorous practice?
Do you move in these broad lands as broad as they? 
Come duly to the divine power to use words?

For only at last, after many years—after chastity, friendship, procreation, prudence,
 nake...Read More

by Gluck, Louise go out.
Today, my aunt's ahead; she's getting the good cards.
My mother's dragging, having trouble with her concentration.
She can't get used to her own bed this summer.
She had no trouble last summer,
getting used to the floor. She learned to sleep there
to be near my father.
He was dying; he got a special bed.

My aunt doesn't give an inch, doesn't make
allowance for my mother's weariness.
It's how they were raised: you show respect by fi...Read More

Dont forget to view our wonderful member Concentration poems.