Famous Fuck Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Fuck poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous fuck poems. These examples illustrate what a famous fuck poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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by
Ginsberg, Allen
...twentyseven cents January
17, 1956.
I can't stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go **** yourself with your atom bomb.
I don't feel good don't bother me.
I won't write my poem till I'm in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
A...Read more of this...
by
Knight, Etheridge
...ad dying and jiving drove
her away made her take her laughter and her smiles
and her softness and her midnight sighs--
**** Coltrane and music and clouds drifting in the sky
**** the sea and trees and the sky and birds
and alligators and all the animals that roam the earth
**** marx and mao **** fidel and nkrumah and
democracy and communism **** smack and pot
and red ripe tomatoes **** joseph **** mary ****
god jesus and all the disciples **** fanon nixon
and malcom **** the...Read more of this...
by
Gregory, Rg
...ive banter bantered back
the smells of sweat and cargoes mixed with stew
and dumplings lamb chops roast beef - what the ****
these toughened men could outdo friar tuck
so ravenous their faith blown off the sea
that god lived in the stomach raucously
perhaps cramped into scotts i felt it most
that you belonged in a living sea of men
who shared the one blood-vision of a coast
tides washed you to but washed you off again
too much history made the struggle plain
but all the time...Read more of this...
by
Estep, Maggie
...**** ME
I'm all screwed up so
**** ME.
**** ME
and take out the garbage
feed the cat and **** ME
you can do it, I know you can.
**** ME
and theorize about
Sado Masochism's relationship
to classical philosophy
tell me how this stimulates
the fabric of most human relationships,
I love that kind of pointless intellectualism
so do it again and
**** ME....Read more of this...
by
Chin, Staceyann
...before
I want to be the girl your parents will use
as a bad example of a lady
I want to be the dyke who likes to **** men
I want to be the politician who never lies
I want to be the girl who never cries
I want to go down in history
in a chapter marked miscellaneous
because the writers could find
no other way to categorize me
In this world where classification is key
I want to erase the straight lines
So I can be me...Read more of this...
by
Tebb, Barry
...nd, Calcutta typesetters permitting, it will be out this year
With the red gold script of sari cloth on the spine
And **** those dusty grey contemporary voices
Those verses will be mine.
Haslam’s a whole lot better but touchy as a prima donna
And couldn’t take it when I said he’d be a whole lot better
If he’d unloose his affects and let them scatter
I’m envious of his habitat, The Haworth Moors
Living there should be the inspiration of my old age
But being monoph...Read more of this...
by
Tebb, Barry
...one pound fifty." The vast ballroom was growing misty
And blurred with alcohol I’ve never had the taste for.
"**** off" a forty-plus dyed blonde said half in jest.
So I chose the only Asian girl in Squares with hair like jet
And danced with her five minutes centre stage –
I’ve lost all inhibitions in old age. A Malaysian architecture
Student invited me to sit and get my breath back
"Le Corbusier described a house as a machine for living in,"
I quipped;...Read more of this...
by
Jong, Erica
...f innocence
revealed by experience;
with soft rain
and a bare head;
with hand-in-hand dreams on Mondays
and the land of ****
on Sundays;
with mangoes, papayas
and limes,
and a house towering
above the sea.
Muse, I surrender
to thee.
Thy will be done,
not mine.
If this love spell
pleases you,
send me this lover,
this husband,
this dancing partner
for my empty bed
and let him fill me
from now
until I die.
I offer my bones,
my poems,
my luck with roses,
and the...Read more of this...
by
Bukowski, Charles
...you-
their wives, x-wives, daughters, maids, so forth,
because they've read your poems and
figure all you want to do is **** everybody and
everything. which once might have been
true but is no longer quite
true.
and-
he WRITES TOO.
POETRY, of
course. everybody
writes
poetry.
he has plenty of time and a
postoffice box in town
and he drives there 3 or 4 times a day
looking and hoping for accepted
poems.
he thinks that poverty is a weakness of the
soul...Read more of this...
by
Brautigan, Richard
...out, would travel on, shouting, "Where in the hell
am I? I can't see to open this bottle ! Who turned out the
lights? **** this motel! I have to take a piss ! Where's my
key ?"
It was a good idea.
A few days after we made our plans for Trout Fishing in
America Shorty, a heavy rain was pouring down upon San
Francisco. The rain turned the streets inward, like
drowned lungs, upon themselves and I was hurrying to work,
meeting swollen gutters at the intersectio...Read more of this...
by
Brautigan, Richard
...nk and the old granny wasn't too sober either, shout-
ing something like, "Let the Civil War come again, I'm ready
to ****!"
We went down to Little Redfish Lake. The campgrounds
there were just about abandoned. There were so many people
up at Big Redfish Lake and practically nobody camping at
Little Redfish Lake, and it was free, too.
We wondered what was wrong with the camp. If perhaps
a camping plague, a sure destroyer that leaves all your
camping...Read more of this...
by
Brautigan, Richard
...ottle and fired. His friend was then
sitting there, covered with flecks of glass, blood and whisky.
"What the **** you do that for?" he said.
Now in his late thirties Pard works at a print shop for
$1. 35 an hour. It is an avant-garde print shop. They print
poetry and experimental prose. They pay him $1. 35 an hour
for operating a linotype machine. A $1. 35 linotype operator
is hard to find, outside of Hong Kong or Albania.
...Read more of this...
by
Ginsberg, Allen
...t on chairs, till my hole feels the breath of
your spit and your thumb stroke
please master make my say Please Master **** me now Please
Master grease my balls and hairmouth with sweet vaselines
please master stroke your shaft with white creams
please master touch your cock head to my wrinkled self-hole
please master push it in gently, your elbows enwrapped round my breast
your arms passing down to my belly, my ***** you touch w/ your fingers
please master shove it in me a ...Read more of this...
by
Tebb, Barry
...tive writing, doing it ‘my way’ in the nineties,
UEA found his services superfluous to their needs.
? ? you may **** like hell,
But I abhor your jealous narcissistic smell
And as for your much vaunted pc prose
I’d rather stick my prick inside the thorniest rose.
Jeanne Conn of ‘Connections’ your letters
are even longer than my own and Maggie Allen
Sent me the only Valentine I’ve had in sixty years
These two do know my longings and my fears,
Dear Simon ...Read more of this...
by
Levy, D A
...s weep on each
others shoulders."
so now when people smile and say,
"Hey, you're one of us,"
i smile and say,
"**** you, man,
im still alive." ...Read more of this...
by
Bukowski, Charles
...ame down:
"Look," he said to Cass, "you act up again and you're out. We don't need
your dramatics here."
"Oh, **** you, man!" she said.
"Better keep her straight," the bartender said to me.
"She'll be all right," I said.
"It's my nose, I can do what I want with my nose."
"No," I said, "it hurts me."
"You mean it hurts you when I stick a pin in my nose?"
"Yes, it does, I mean it."
"All right, I won't do it again. Cheer up."
She k...Read more of this...
by
Walcott, Derek
...nd I look in the rearview and see a man
exactly like me, and the man was weeping
for the houses, the street, that whole fucking island.
Christ have mercy on all sleeping things!
>From that dog rotting down Wrightson Road
to when I was a dog on these streets;
if loving these islands must be my load.
out of corruption my soul takes wings,
But they had started to poison my soul
with their big house, big car, big time bohbohl,
coolie, ******, Syrian and French Creole,
so...Read more of this...
by
Tebb, Barry
...be vain?
O for the secret anima of Leeds girlhood
A thousand times better than snide attacks in the TLS
By ‘JC’. **** you, Jock, you should be ashamed,
Attacking Brenda Williams, who had a background
Worse than yours, an alcoholic schizophrenic father
And an Irish immigrant mother who died when Brenda was fifteen
But still she managed to read Proust on her day off
As a library girl, turned down by David Jenkins,
‘As rising star of the left’ for a place at Leeds
...Read more of this...
by
Brautigan, Richard
...'s
no mystery here. That's why the door's open. If you have to
crap, go in the bushes like the deer. "
"**** you, " I said to the outhouse. "All I want is a ride
down the river. "
THE KOOL-AID WINO
When I was a child I had a friend who became a Kool-Aid
wino as the result of a rupture. He was a member of a very
large and poor German family. All the older children in the
family had to work in the fields during the summer, picking...Read more of this...
by
Harrison, Tony
...This graveyard stands above a worked-out pit.
Subsidence makes the obelisks all list.
One leaning left's marked ****, one right's marked ****
sprayed by some peeved supporter who was pissed.
Far-sighted for his family's future dead,
but for his wife, this banker's still alone
on his long obelisk, and doomed to head
a blackened dynasty of unclaimed stone,
now graffitied with a crude four-letter word.
His children and grandchildren went away
and never came bac...Read more of this...
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