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Famous Fat Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry
...settee, 
with my heart's bloody tatters I'll mock again; 
impudent and caustic, I'll jeer to superfluity. 

Of Grandfatherly gentleness I'm devoid, 
there's not a single grey hair in my soul! 
Thundering the world with the might of my voice, 
I go by -- handsome, 
twenty-two-year-old. 

Gentle ones! 
You lay your love on a violin. 
The crude lay their love on a drum. 
but you can't, like me, turn inside out entirely, 
and nothing but human lips become! 

Out o...Read more of this...
by Mayakovsky, Vladimir



...ge their Side.
Ask them the Cause; They're wiser still, they say;
And still to Morrow's wiser than to Day.
We think our Fathers Fools, so wise we grow;
Our wiser Sons, no doubt, will think us so.
Once School-Divines this zealous Isle o'erspread;
Who knew most Sentences was deepest read;
Faith, Gospel, All, seem'd made to be disputed,
And none had Sense enough to be Confuted.
Scotists and Thomists, now, in Peace remain,
Amidst their kindred Cobwebs in Duck-Lane.
If Faith it se...Read more of this...
by Pope, Alexander
...train the horse to war
Shall never pass the polar bar.
The beggar's dog and widow's cat,
Feed them, and thou wilt grow fat.
The gnat that sings his summer's song
Poison gets from Slander's tongue.
The poison of the snake and newt
Is the sweat of Envy's foot.
The poison of the honey-bee
Is the artist's jealousy.
The prince's robes and beggar's rags
Are toadstools on the miser's bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.
It is right it should ...Read more of this...
by Blake, William
...in gringo wretch
who's busy monkeywrenching
crucial parts of the engine
and its life-support systems
and they got a big fat hose
to siphon off the fuel to privatized tanks
And all the while we just sit there
in the passenger seats
without parachutes
listening to all the news that's fit to air
over the one-way PA system
about how the contract on America
is really good for us etcetera
As all the while the plane lumbers on
into its postmodern
manifest destiny...Read more of this...
by Ferlinghetti, Lawrence
...he trying shall suffice; 
"The aim, if reached or not, makes great the life: 
"Try to be Shakespeare, leave the rest to fate!" 
Spare my self-knowledge--there's no fooling me! 
If I prefer remaining my poor self, 
I say so not in self-dispraise but praise. 
If I'm a Shakespeare, let the well alone; 
Why should I try to be what now I am? 
If I'm no Shakespeare, as too probable,-- 
His power and consciousness and self-delight 
And all we want in common, shall I find-- 
Trying f...Read more of this...
by Browning, Robert



...eraea, the first silky down
Fringes his blushing cheeks, and his young limbs are strong and
brown;

And he is rich, and fat and fleecy herds
Of bleating sheep upon his meadows lie,
And many an earthen bowl of yellow curds
Is in his homestead for the thievish fly
To swim and drown in, the pink clover mead
Keeps its sweet store for him, and he can pipe on oaten reed.

And yet I love him not; it was for thee
I kept my love; I knew that thou would'st come
To rid me of this pallid...Read more of this...
by Wilde, Oscar
...re we are both overthrown. 
Skeezix, you are me. La de dah. 
You grow a beard but our drool is identical. 

Forgive us, Father, for we know not. 

Today is November 14th, 1972. 
I live in Weston, Mass., Middlesex County, 
U.S.A., and it rains steadily 
in the pond like white puppy eyes. 
The pond is waiting for its skin. 
the pond is waiting for its leather. 
The pond is waiting for December and its Novocain. 

It begins: 

Interrogator: 
What can you say of your last seven d...Read more of this...
by Sexton, Anne
...sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the dis...Read more of this...
by Angelou, Maya
...look serene, 
When angry most he seemed and most severe, 
What else but favour, grace, and mercy, shone? 
So spake our father penitent; nor Eve 
Felt less remorse: they, forthwith to the place 
Repairing where he judged them, prostrate fell 
Before him reverent; and both confessed 
Humbly their faults, and pardon begged; with tears 
Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air 
Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign 
Of sorrow unfeigned, and humiliation meek. 
...Read more of this...
by Milton, John
...ir, red scarf and mittens, on the bobsled, in his lunch box a pork chop sandwich and a V of gooseberry pie.

The horses fathom a snow to their knees.
Snow hats are on the rolling prairie hills.
The Mississippi bluffs wear snow hats.. . .
Keep your hogs on changing corn and mashes of grain,
 O farmerman.
 Cram their insides till they waddle on short legs
 Under the drums of bellies, hams of fat.
 Kill your hogs with a knife slit under the ear.
 Hack them with cleavers.
 Hang t...Read more of this...
by Sandburg, Carl
...sted. 
Each pair there would have identical pitch.) 
--A pity not to have heard 
the other, less primitive music of the fat brown bird 
who sings above the broken gasoline pump 
in a bamboo church of Jesuit baroque: 
three towers, five silver crosses. 
--Yes, a pity not to have pondered, 
blurr'dly and inconclusively, 
on what connection can exist for centuries 
between the crudest wooden footwear 
and, careful and finicky, 
the whittled fantasies of wooden footwear 
and, car...Read more of this...
by Bishop, Elizabeth
...man, the Hercules, toil’d faithfully and long, and
 then
 died;

I see the place of the innocent rich life and hapless fate of the beautiful nocturnal son,
 the
 full-limb’d Bacchus; 
I see Kneph, blooming, drest in blue, with the crown of feathers on his head; 
I see Hermes, unsuspected, dying, well-beloved, saying to the people, Do not weep for
 me, 
This is not my true country, I have lived banish’d from my true country—I now go back
 there,
I return to the celestial sphe...Read more of this...
by Whitman, Walt
...fs
Heard thro' the living roar. At this the babe,
Their Margaret cradled near them, wail'd and woke
The mother, and the father suddenly cried,
`A wreck, a wreck!' then turn'd, and groaning said, 

`Forgive! How many will say, "forgive," and find
A sort of absolution in the sound
To hate a little longer! No; the sin
That neither God nor man can well forgive,
Hypocrisy, I saw it in him at once.
Is it so true that second thoughts are best?
Not first, and third, which are a riper...Read more of this...
by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...d. 

I am not an earth, nor an adjunct of an earth; 
I am the mate and companion of people, all just as immortal and fathomless as
 myself; 
(They do not know how immortal, but I know.)

Every kind for itself and its own—for me mine, male and female; 
For me those that have been boys, and that love women; 
For me the man that is proud, and feels how it stings to be slighted; 
For me the sweet-heart and the old maid—for me mothers, and the mothers of
 mothers; 
For...Read more of this...
by Whitman, Walt
...
125 Green barbarism turning paradigm. 
126 Crispin foresaw a curious promenade 
127 Or, nobler, sensed an elemental fate, 
128 And elemental potencies and pangs, 
129 And beautiful barenesses as yet unseen, 
130 Making the most of savagery of palms, 
131 Of moonlight on the thick, cadaverous bloom 
132 That yuccas breed, and of the panther's tread. 
133 The fabulous and its intrinsic verse 
134 Came like two spirits parlaying, adorned 
135 In radiance from the Atl...Read more of this...
by Stevens, Wallace
...nteer, 
For the I offryd my blood in sacrifise. 
John Lydgate. 


From '41 to '51 
I was folk's contrary son; 
I bit my father's hand right through 
And broke my mother's heart in two. 
I sometimes go without my dinner 
Now that I know the times I've gi'n her.

From '51 to '61 
I cut my teeth and took to fun. 
I learned what not to be afraid of 
And what stuff women's lips are made of; 
I learned with what a rosy feeling 
Good ale makes floors seem like the ceiling, 
And how ...Read more of this...
by Masefield, John
...ith which they baffle nature. Who are full,
Sleek, tender-clad, fit, fiftyish, a-glow, all
Sweetly abortive, hinting at fat fruit,
Judge it high time that fiftyish fingers felt
Beneath the lovelier planes of enterprise.
To resurrect. To moisten with milky chill.
To be a random hitching post or plush.
To be, for wet eyes, random and handy hem.
Their guild is giving money to the poor.
The worthy poor. The very very worthy
And beautiful poor. Perhaps just not too swarthy?
Perhap...Read more of this...
by Brooks, Gwendolyn
...wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
   "Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
   And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
  They thanked him much for that.

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
   "Is what we chiefly need;
Pepper and vinegar besides
   Are very good indeed—
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
   We can begin to feed."

"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
   Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would ...Read more of this...
by Carroll, Lewis
...us of anything that is not flat! They are jealous gods
That would have the whole world flat because they are.
I see the Father conversing with the Son.
Such flatness cannot but be holy.
'Let us make a heaven,' they say.
'Let us flatten and launder the grossness from these souls.'

FIRST VOICE:
I am calm. I am calm. It is the calm before something awful:
The yellow minute before the wind walks, when the leaves
Turn up their hands, their pallors. It is so quiet here.
The sheets...Read more of this...
by Plath, Sylvia
...k all lexica and phrase-book art
To say. I might have been a faithful wife; a mother.
But that's all done with. This is Fate. God. 
Sorted. Here I am - yours, to the last breath. 
I couldn't give my heart to anyone else.
My life till now has been a theorem, to demonstrate
How right it is to love you. This love is love to death.
*
"I knew you anyway. I loved you, I'm afraid,
In my sleep. Your eyes, that denim-lapis, grey-sea- 
Grey-green blue, that Chinese fold of skin
At the ...Read more of this...
by Padel, Ruth

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Book: Reflection on the Important Things