Famous Filthy Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Sonnet XXXI: Methinks I See

by Michael Drayton
 To the Critic

Methinks I see some crooked mimic jeer, 
And tax my Muse with this fantastic grace, 
Turning my papers asks, "What have we here?" 
Making withal some filthy antic face. 
I fear no censure, nor what thou canst say, 
Nor shall my spirit one jot of vigor lose; 
Think'st thou my wit shall keep the pack-horse way 
That...Read more of this...

Respondez!

by Walt Whitman
 RESPONDEZ! Respondez! 
(The war is completed—the price is paid—the title is settled beyond recall;) 
Let every one answer! let those who sleep be waked! let none evade! 
Must we still go on with our affectations and sneaking? 
Let me bring this to a close—I pronounce openly for a new distribution of roles;
Let that which stood in front go behind!...Read more of this...

Harmon Whitney

by Edgar Lee Masters
 Out of the lights and roar of cities,
Drifting down like a spark in Spoon River,
Burnt out with the fire of drink, and broken,
The paramour of a woman I took in self-contempt,
But to hide a wounded pride as well.
To be judged and loathed by a village of little minds --
I, gifted with tongues and wisdom,
Sunk here to the dust of...Read more of this...

Bed Sitter

by Robert William Service
 He stared at me with sad, hurt eyes,
That drab, untidy man;
And though my clients I despise
I do the best I can
To comfort them with cheerful chat;
(Quite comme il faut, of course)
And furnish evidence so that
Their wives may claim divorce. 

But as this chap sobbed out his woes
I thought: How it's a shame!
His wife's a ***** and so he goes
And...Read more of this...

The Wreck of the Steamer London

by William Topaz McGonagall
 'Twas in the year of 1866, and on a very beautiful day,
That eighty-two passengers, with spirits light and gay,
Left Gravesend harbour, and sailed gaily away
On board the steamship "London,"
Bound for the city of Melbourne,
Which unfortunately was her last run,
Because she was wrecked on the stormy main,
Which has caused many a heart to throb with pain,
Because they will ne'er look...Read more of this...

In Defence of the Bush

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 So you're back from up the country, Mister Lawson, where you went, 
And you're cursing all the business in a bitter discontent; 
Well, we grieve to disappoint you, and it makes us sad to hear 
That it wasn't cool and shady -- and there wasn't whips of beer, 
And the looney bullock snorted when you first came into view...Read more of this...

The Commination

by Alec Derwent (A D) Hope
 He that is filthy let him be filthy still. 
Rev. 22.11 

Like John on Patmos, brooding on the Four 
Last Things, I meditate the ruin of friends 
Whose loss, Lord, brings this grand new curse to mind 
Now send me foes worth cursing, or send more 
- Since means should be proportionate to ends - 
For mine are few...Read more of this...

The Black Dudeen

by Robert William Service
 Humping it here in the dug-out,
 Sucking me black dudeen,
I'd like to say in a general way,
 There's nothing like Nickyteen;
There's nothing like Nickyteen, me boys,
 Be it pipes or snipes or cigars;
So be sure that a bloke
Has plenty to smoke,
 If you wants him to fight your wars.

When I've eat my fill and my belt is snug,
I begin...Read more of this...

Filthy Savior

by Laure-Anne Bosselaar
  Look at this storm, the idiot,
pouring its heart out here, of all places,
an industrial suburb on a Sunday, 
soaking nothing but cinder-block
and parking lots,

 wasting its breath on smokeless 
smoke-stacks, not even a trash can 
to send rumbling through the streets.
And that lightning bolt, forking itself 
to death, to hit 

 nothing — what a waste. 
What if...Read more of this...

Why the Young Men Are So Ugly

by Tony Hoagland
 They have little tractors in their blood
and all day the tractors climb up and down
inside their arms and legs, their
collarbones and heads.

That is why they yell and scream and slam the barbells
down into their clanking slots,
making the metal ring like sledgehammers on iron,
like dungeon prisoners rattling their chains.

That is why they shriek their tires at the stopsign,
why they turn...Read more of this...

Salts And Oils

by Philip Levine
 In Havana in 1948 I ate fried dog
believing it was Peking duck. Later,
in Tampa I bunked with an insane sailor
who kept a .38 Smith and Wesson in his shorts.
In the same room were twins, oilers
from Toledo, who argued for hours
each night whose turn it was
to get breakfast and should he turn
the eggs or not. On the way north
I lived...Read more of this...

Call It Music

by Philip Levine
 Some days I catch a rhythm, almost a song
in my own breath. I'm alone here
in Brooklyn Heights, late morning, the sky
above the St. George Hotel clear, clear
for New York, that is. The radio playing
"Bird Flight," Parker in his California
tragic voice fifty years ago, his faltering
"Lover Man" just before he crashed into chaos.
I would guess that outside the recording studio
in...Read more of this...

On The Meeting Of García Lorca And Hart Crane

by Philip Levine
 Brooklyn, 1929. Of course Crane's
been drinking and has no idea who
this curious Andalusian is, unable
even to speak the language of poetry.
The young man who brought them
together knows both Spanish and English,
but he has a headache from jumping
back and forth from one language
to another. For a moment's relief
he goes to the window to look
down on the East River, darkening
below as...Read more of this...

Sonnet XXIV: Rich Fools There Be

by Sir Philip Sidney
 Rich fools there be, whose base and filthy heart 
Lies hatching still the goods wherein they flow: 
And damning their own selves to Tantal's smart, 
Wealth breeding want, more blist more wretched grow. 

Yet to those fools heav'n such wit doth impart 
As what their hands do hold, their heads do know, 
And knowing love, and loving, lay apart,...Read more of this...

The Peace Of Dives

by Rudyard Kipling
 The Word came down to Dives in Torment where he lay:
"Our World is full of wickedness, My Children maim and slay,
 "And the Saint and Seer and Prophet
 "Can make no better of it
"Than to sanctify and prophesy and pray.

"Rise up, rise up, thou Dives, and take again thy gold,
"And thy women and thy housen as they were to...Read more of this...

Unclean

by Brooks Haxton
 I am like a pelican of the wilderness: I am 
 like an owl of the desert. I watch, and am 
 as a sparrow alone upon the housetop. 
 Psalm 102

The pelican in scripture is unclean. It pukes dead fish
onto the hatchlings, and it roosts alone, like Satan
on the Tree of Life. Nobody told me. I liked pelicans.
I...Read more of this...

To The States

by Walt Whitman
 WHY reclining, interrogating? Why myself and all drowsing? 
What deepening twilight! scum floating atop of the waters! 
Who are they, as bats and night-dogs, askant in the Capitol? 
What a filthy Presidentiad! (O south, your torrid suns! O north, your arctic freezings!) 
Are those really Congressmen? are those the great Judges? is that the President?
Then I will sleep awhile...Read more of this...

Heroic Poem in Praise of Wine

by Hilaire Belloc
 To exalt, enthrone, establish and defend,
To welcome home mankind's mysterious friend
Wine, true begetter of all arts that be;
Wine, privilege of the completely free;
Wine the recorder; wine the sagely strong;
Wine, bright avenger of sly-dealing wrong,
Awake, Ausonian Muse, and sing the vineyard song!

Sing how the Charioteer from Asia came,
And on his front the little dancing flame
Which marked the God-head. Sing the...Read more of this...

Freedom

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 he drank wine all night of the 
28th, and he kept thinking of her: 
the way she walked and talked and loved 
the way she told him things that seemed true 
but were not, and he knew the color of each 
of her dresses 
and her shoes-he knew the stock and curve of 
each heel 
as well as the...Read more of this...

The Statues

by William Butler Yeats
 Pythagoras planned it. Why did the people stare?
His numbers, though they moved or seemed to move
In marble or in bronze, lacked character.
But boys and girls, pale from the imagined love
Of solitary beds, knew what they were,
That passion could bring character enough,
And pressed at midnight in some public place
Live lips upon a plummet-measured face.

No! Greater than Pythagoras, for the men
That...Read more of this...

Dream Song 63: Bats have no bankers and they do not drink

by John Berryman
 Bats have no bankers and they do not drink
and cannot be arrested and pay no tax
and, in general, bats have it made.
Henry for joining the human race is bats,
known to be so, by few them who think,
out of the cave.

Instead of the cave! ah lovely-chilly, dark,
ur-moist his cousins hang in hundreds or swerve
with personal radar,
crisisless, kid. Instead of the...Read more of this...

Coming Close

by Philip Levine
 Take this quiet woman, she has been
standing before a polishing wheel
for over three hours, and she lacks
twenty minutes before she can take
a lunch break. Is she a woman?
Consider the arms as they press
the long brass tube against the buffer,
they are striated along the triceps,
the three heads of which clearly show.
Consider the fine dusting of dark down
above the upper lip,...Read more of this...

Bitterness

by Philip Levine
 Here in February, the fine 
dark branches of the almond 
begin to sprout tiny clusters 
of leaves, sticky to the touch. 
Not far off, about the length 
of my morning shadow, the grass 
is littered with the petals 
of the plum that less than 
a week ago blazed, a living 
candle in the hand of earth. 
I was living...Read more of this...

Sonnet LXXXIIII

by Edmund Spenser
 LEt not one sparke of filthy lustfull fyre
breake out, that may her sacred peace molest:
ne one light glance of sensuall desyre:
Attempt to work her gentle mindes vnrest.
But pure affections bred in spotlesse brest,
& modest thoughts breathd fro[m] wel te[m]pred sprites
goe visit her in her bowre of rest,
accompanyde with angelick delightes.
There fill your selfe with those most ioyous sights,
the which...Read more of this...

From afar has appeared a filthy shape. It is said that

by Omar Khayyam
From afar has appeared a filthy shape. It is said that
its body was covered with a shirt made of the smoke
of Hell. It was neither a man nor a woman. It has
broken our flask and spilled upon the earth the ruby wine
it contained, glorifying itself at having done a deed worthy
of a man....Read more of this...

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