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Famous Doorknob Poems by Famous Poets

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

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by Wagoner, David
...may say, He goes to the door
And exits or She goes out the door stage left.

But you see your fingers touching the doorknob,
Closing around it, turning it
As if by themselves. The latch slides
Out of the strike-plate, the door swings on its hinges,
And you're about to take that step
Over the threshold into a different light.

For the audience, you may simply be
Disappearing from the scene, yet in those few seconds
You can reach for the knob as the last object on ...Read more of this...



by Bishop, Elizabeth
...side stand, the closed schoolhouse, 
where today no flag is flying 
from the rough-adzed pole topped with a white china doorknob. 
It stops, and a man carrying a bay gets off, 
climbs over a stile, and goes down through a small steep meadow, 
which establishes its poverty in a snowfall of daisies, 
to his invisible house beside the water. 

The birds keep on singing, a calf bawls, the bus starts. 
The thin mist follows 
the white mutations of its dream; 
an ancien...Read more of this...

by Lowell, Robert
...w life is fuel.

My eyes throb.
Nothing can dislodge
the house with my first tooth
noosed in a knot to the doorknob.

Nothing can dislodge
the triangular blotch
of rot on the red roof,
a cedar hedge, or the shade of a hedge.

No ease from the eye
of the sharp-shinned hawk in the birdbook there,
with reddish-brown buffalo hair
on its shanks, one asectic talon

clasping the abstract imperial sky.
It says:
an eye for an eye,
a tooth for a ...Read more of this...

by Bukowski, Charles
...br> I go back and the notes
are still there. I take the Maltese cross
cut it down from my car mirror, tie it
to her doorknob with a shoelace, leave
a book of poems.
when I go back the next night everything
is still there. 
I keep searching the streets for that
blood-wine battleship she drives
with a weak battery, and the doors
hanging from broken hinges. 
I drive around the streets 
an inch away from weeping,
ashamed of my sentimentality and
possible love....Read more of this...

by Sexton, Anne
...

Frog has not nerves.
Frog is as old as a cockroach.
Frog is my father's genitals.
Frog is a malformed doorknob.
Frog is a soft bag of green.

The moon will not have him.
The sun wants to shut off
like a light bulb.
At the sight of him
the stone washes itself in a tub.
The crow thinks he's an apple
and drops a worm in.
At the feel of frog
the touch-me-nots explode
like electric slugs.
Slime will have him.
Slime has made him a h...Read more of this...



by Sexton, Anne
...bone. 
Sing me a nest of cup and pestle. 
Sing me a sweetbread fr an old grandfather. 
Sing me a foot and a doorknob, for you are my love. 
Oh sing, bone bag man, sing. 
Your head is what I remember that Augusty 
you were in love with another woman but 
taht didn't matter. I was the gury of your 
bones, your fingers long and nubby, your 
forehead a beacon, bare as marble and I worried 
you like an odor because you had not quite forgotten, 
bone bag man...Read more of this...

by Tate, James
...y've got big plans, they'll make a bundle.
The door was an island that swayed in its sleep.
The moon turned the doorknob just slightly,
burned its fingers and ran,
and still the door said nothing and slept.
At least that's what they like to say,
the little fishes and so on.
Far away, a bell rang, and then a shot was fired....Read more of this...

by Taylor, Edward
...y've got big plans, they'll make a bundle.
The door was an island that swayed in its sleep.
The moon turned the doorknob just slightly,
burned its fingers and ran,
and still the door said nothing and slept.
At least that's what they like to say,
the little fishes and so on.
Far away, a bell rang, and then a shot was fired....Read more of this...

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