Famous Get Mad Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Happy the maimed, the halt, the mad, the blind--

by Fernando Pessoa
Happy the maimed, the halt, the mad, the blind--

All who, stamped separate by curtailing birth,

Owe no duty's allegiance to mankind

Nor stand a valuing in their scheme of worth!

But I, whom Fate, not Nature, did curtail,

By no exterior voidness being exempt,

Must bear accusing glances where I fail,

Fixed in the general orbit of contempt.

Fate, less than Nature in being kind to lacking,

Giving...Read more of this...

Mad As The Mist And Snow

by William Butler Yeats
 Bolt and bar the shutter,
For the foul winds blow:
Our minds are at their best this night,
And I seem to know
That everything outside us is
Mad as the mist and snow.

Horace there by Homer stands,
Plato stands below,
And here is Tully's open page.
How many years ago
Were you and I unlettered lads
Mad as the mist and snow?

You ask what makes me sigh, old...Read more of this...

Why Should Not Old Men Be Mad?

by William Butler Yeats
 Why should not old men be mad?
Some have known a likely lad
That had a sound fly-fisher's wrist
Turn to a drunken journalist;
A girl that knew all Dante once
Live to bear children to a dunce;
A Helen of social welfare dream,
Climb on a wagonette to scream.
Some think it a matter of course that chance
Should starve good men and bad advance,
That if their...Read more of this...

Anna Who Was Mad

by Anne Sexton
 Anna who was mad,
I have a knife in my armpit.
When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages.
Am I some sort of infection?
Did I make you go insane?
Did I make the sounds go sour?
Did I tell you to climb out the window?
Forgive. Forgive.
Say not I did.
Say not.
Say.

Speak Mary-words into our pillow.
Take me the gangling twelve-year-old
into your sunken lap.
Whisper like...Read more of this...

Mad Song

by William Blake
 The wild winds weep
And the night is a-cold;
Come hither, Sleep,
And my griefs infold:
But lo! the morning peeps
Over the eastern steeps,
And the rustling birds of dawn
The earth do scorn. 

Lo! to the vault
Of paved heaven,
With sorrow fraught
My notes are driven:
They strike the ear of night,
Make weep the eyes of day;
They make mad the roaring winds,
And with tempests play. 

Like a...Read more of this...

For The Moment

by Pierre Reverdy
 Life is simple and gay
The bright sun rings with a quiet sound
The sound of the bells has quieted 
 down
This morning the light hits it all 
The footlights of my head are lit again
And the room I live in is finally bright

Just one beam is enough
Just one burst of laughter
My joy that shakes the house 
Restrains those wanting to...Read more of this...

Mad Maria

by Robert William Service
 Mad Maria in the Square
Sits upon a wicker chair.
When the keeper asks the price
Mad Maria counts her lice.
No pesito can she pay,
So he shrugs and goes away;
Hopes she'll pay him with her prayers,
Shabby keeper of the chairs.

Mad Maria counts her lice,
Cracks them once and cracks them twice,
Combs them from her sunny hair;
People stop to turn and stare.
Innocent in thought...Read more of this...

At the Long Sault

by Lucy Maud Montgomery
 A prisoner under the stars I lie, 
With no friend near; 
To-morrow they lead me forth to die, 
The stake is ready, the torments set, 
They will pay in full their deadly debt; 
But I fear them not! Oh, none could fear 
Of those who stood by Daulac's side­
While he prayed and laughed and sang and fought 
In the...Read more of this...

Hold your mad hands

by Robert Southey
 Hold your mad hands! for ever on your plain 
Must the gorged vulture clog his beak with blood? 
For ever must your Niger's tainted flood, 
Roll to the ravenous shark his banquet slain? 
Hold your mad hands! and learn at length to know, 
And turn your vengeance on the common foe, 
Yon treacherous vessel and her godless crew! 
Let...Read more of this...

Mad Girls Love Song

by Sylvia Plath
 "I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me...Read more of this...

Money

by Philip Larkin
 Quarterly, is it, money reproaches me: 
 'Why do you let me lie here wastefully? 
I am all you never had of goods and sex,
 You could get them still by writing a few cheques.'

So I look at others, what they do with theirs:
 They certainly don't keep it upstairs.
By now they've a second house and car and wife:
...Read more of this...

Wind

by Ted Hughes
 This house has been far out at sea all night,
The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills,
Winds stampeding the fields under the window
Floundering black astride and blinding wet 

Till day rose; then under an orange sky
The hills had new places, and wind wielded
Blade-light, luminous black and emerald,
Flexing like the lens of a mad eye. 

At noon I scaled along...Read more of this...

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

by Wendell Berry
 Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more 
of everything ready-made. Be afraid 
to know your neighbors and to die.

And you will have a window in your head. 
Not even your future will be a mystery 
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card 
and shut away in a little drawer. 

When they want...Read more of this...

Mad Blake

by William Rose Benet
 Blake saw a treeful of angels at Peckham Rye, 
And his hands could lay hold on the tiger's terrible heart. 
Blake knew how deep is Hell, and Heaven how high, 
And could build the universe from one tiny part. 
Blake heard the asides of God, as with furrowed brow 
He sifts the star-streams between the Then and the Now,...Read more of this...

The Mad Yak

by Gregory Corso
 I am watching them churn the last milk they'll ever get
from me.
They are waiting for me to die;
They want to make buttons out of my bones.
Where are my sisters and brothers?
That tall monk there, loading my uncle, he has a new cap.
And that idiot student of his--
I never saw that muffler before.
Poor uncle, he lets them load him.
How sad...Read more of this...

The Ferryman

by Emile Verhaeren
The ferryman, a green reed 'twixt his teeth,
With hand on oar, against the current strong
Had rowed and rowed so long.


But she, alas! whose voice was hailing him
Across the far waves dim.
Still further o'er the far waves seemed to float,
Still further backwards, 'mid the mists, remote.


The casements with their eyes.
The dial-faces of the towers that rise
Upon the shore,
Watched, as he strove...Read more of this...

Mad Day In March

by Philip Levine
 Beaten like an old hound 
Whimpering by the stove, 
I complicate the pain 
That smarts with promised love. 
The oilstove falls, the rain, 
Forecast, licks at my wound; 
Ice forms, clips the green shoot, 
And strikes the wren house mute. 

May commoner and king, 
The barren bride and nun 
Begrudge the season's dues. 
May children curse the sun, 
Sweet...Read more of this...

An Elegy On The Death Of A Mad Dog

by Oliver Goldsmith
 Good people all, of every sort,
Give ear unto my song;
And if you find it wondrous short,
It cannot hold you long.

In Islington there was a man
Of whom the world might say,
That still a godly race he ran— 
Whene'er he went to pray.

A kind and gentle heart he had,
To comfort friends and foes;
The naked every day he clad— 
When he put...Read more of this...

The Mad Maids Song

by Robert Herrick
 Good morrow to the day so fair;
Good morning, sir, to you;
Good morrow to mine own torn hair,
Bedabbled with the dew.

Good morning to this primrose too;
Good morrow to each maid;
That will with flowers the tomb bestrew
Wherein my Love is laid.

Ah! woe is me, woe, woe is me,
Alack and well-a-day!
For pity, sir, find out that bee,
Which bore my Love away.

I'll seek...Read more of this...

The Gardener XLII: O Mad Superbly Drunk

by Rabindranath Tagore
 O mad, superbly drunk;
If you kick open your doors and
play the fool in public;
If you empty your bag in a night, 
and snap your fingers at prudence;
If you walk in curious paths and
play with useless things;
Reck not rhyme or reason;
If unfurling your sails before the
storm you snap the rudder in two,
Then I will follow you, comrade,
and be drunken and...Read more of this...

The Last Leap

by Adam Lindsay Gordon
 ALL is over! fleet career, 
Dash of greyhound slipping thongs, 
Flight of falcon, bound of deer, 
Mad hoof-thunder in our rear, 
Cold air rushing up our lungs, 
Din of many tongues. 

Once again, one struggle good, 
One vain effort;—he must dwell 
Near the shifted post, that stood 
Where the splinters of the wood, 
Lying in the torn tracks, tell...Read more of this...

Mad Judy

by Thomas Hardy
 When the hamlet hailed a birth 
 Judy used to cry: 
When she heard our christening mirth 
 She would kneel and sigh. 
She was crazed, we knew, and we 
Humoured her infirmity. 

When the daughters and the sons 
 Gathered them to wed, 
And we like-intending ones 
 Danced till dawn was red, 
She would rock and mutter,...Read more of this...

The Mad Gardeners Song

by Lewis Carroll
 He thought he saw an Elephant,
That practised on a fife:
He looked again, and found it was
A letter from his wife.
'At length I realise,' he said,
The bitterness of Life!'

He thought he saw a Buffalo
Upon the chimney-piece:
He looked again, and found it was
His Sister's Husband's Niece.
'Unless you leave this house,' he said,
"I'll send for the Police!'

He thought he saw a Rattlesnake
That...Read more of this...

A Ramble in St. Jamess Park

by John Wilmot
 Much wine had passed, with grave discourse
Of who fucks who, and who does worse
(Such as you usually do hear
From those that diet at the Bear),
When I, who still take care to see
Drunkenness relieved by lechery,
Went out into St. James's Park
To cool my head and fire my heart.
But though St. James has th' honor on 't,
'Tis consecrate to prick and...Read more of this...

A March Day in London

by Amy Levy
 The east wind blows in the street to-day;
The sky is blue, yet the town looks grey.
'Tis the wind of ice, the wind of fire,
Of cold despair and of hot desire,
Which chills the flesh to aches and pains,
And sends a fever through all the veins.

From end to end, with aimless feet,
All day long have I paced the street.
My limbs are...Read more of this...

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