Famous Hit On Poems by Famous Poets

• Best Hit On Poems by Famous Poets
• Hit On Poems by Members
• Best Hit On Poems by Members
• Hit On Quotes

...in Places; 
And your VAN-BRUG had found no Quarter, 
But for his dabbling in the Morter. 
ROWE no Advantages cou'd hit on, 
Till Verse he left, to write North-Briton. 
PHILIPS, who's by the Shilling known, 
Ne'er saw a Shilling of his own. 
Meets {2} PHILOMELA, in the Town 
Her due Proportion of Renown? 
What Pref'rence has ARDELIA seen, 
T'expel, tho' she cou'd write the Spleen? 
Of Coach, or Tables, can you brag, 
Or better Cloaths than Poet RAG? 
Do wealthy Ki...Read More

..., 
It never had anything in. 

He were properly held up for bobbins, 
As the folk in the mill used to say, 
Till he hit on a simple solution - 
He'd go as a young stowaway. 

He studied the sailing lists daily, 
And at last found a ship as would do. 
“S.S. Tosser:, a freighter from Fleetwood, 
Via Cape Horn to Wooloomooloo. 

He went off next evening to Fleetwood, 
And found her there loaded and coaled, 
Slipped over the side in the darkness, 
And down...Read More

...ouelych lokkez he layd ouer his croun,
Let the naked nec to the note schewe.
Gauan gripped to his ax, and gederes hit on hyyght,
The kay fot on the folde he before sette,
Let him doun lyyghtly lyyght on the naked,
That the scharp of the schalk schyndered the bones,
And schrank thurygh the schyire grece, and schade hit in twynne,
That the bit of the broun stel bot on the grounde.
The fayre hede fro the halce hit to the erthe,
That fele hit foyned wyth her fete...Read More

...ith bastards
not even his own kids?

 I got in the truck, and started to drive
and saw a little girl--
who I picked up, hit on the head, and
screwed, and screwed, and screwed, and screwed, then

buried,
 in the garden of the motel ...

--You see, ever since I was a kid I wanted
to feel things make sense: I remember

looking out the window of my room back home,--
and being almost suffocated by the asphalt;
and grass; and trees; and glass;
just there, just there, do...Read More

...s per week for whatever it might yield. 

It was in the early part of the year 1871,
That Jack Allingford, a miner, hit on a plan,
That in the mine, with powder, he'd loosen the granite-bound face,
So he selected, as he thought, a most suitable place. 

And when all his arrangements had been made,
He was lowered down by a miner that felt a little afraid,
But most fortunately Jenny Carrister came up at the time,
Just as Jack Allingford was lowered into the mine. 

...Read More

...oked

perfectly contented and natural in the pool as if the pool had

grown them on watery branches.

 I had a good hit on my third cast, but missed it.

 "Oh, boy, " he said. "I think I'11 watch you fish. The stolen

painting is in the house next door. "

 I fished upstream coming ever closer and closer to the

narrow staircase of the canyon. Then I went up into it as if

I were entering a department store. I caught three trout in

the lost and fo...Read More

...n him, I know.
Now let us get back to the powders and patches.
Foolish man,
The Kings are here now. We must hit on a plan
To change all these titles as fast as we can.
`Bouquet Imperatrice'. Tut! Tut! Give 
me some ink --
`Bouquet de la Reine', what do you think?
Not the same receipt?
Now, Martin, put away your conceit.
Who will ever know?
`Extract of Nobility' -- excellent, since most of them are killed."
"But, Monsieur Antoine --"
"You are self-w...Read More

...; and my son, who dipt
In some forgotten book of mine
With sallow scraps of manuscript,
And dating many a year ago,
Has hit on this, which you will take,
My Fitz, and welcome, as I know,
Less for its own than for the sake
Of one recalling gracious times,
When, in our younger London days,
You found some merit in my rhymes,
And I more pleasure in your praise.

TIRESIAS

I WISH I were as in the years of old
While yet the blessed daylight made itself
Ruddy thro' both the roof...Read More

...reeking battlefield I lie,
Under the stars, propped up with smeary dead,
 Like too, if no one takes me in, to die.
Hit on the arms, legs, liver, lungs and gall;
 Damn glad there's nothing more of me to hit;
But calm, and feeling never pain at all,
 And full of wonder at the turn of it.
For of the dead around me three are mine,
 Three foemen vanquished in the whirl of fight;
So if I die I have no right to whine,
 I feel I've done my little bit all right.
I don't k...Read More

Dont forget to view our wonderful member Hit On poems.