Famous Like It Was Yesterday Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Like It Was Yesterday poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous like it was yesterday poems. These examples illustrate what a famous like it was yesterday poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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by
Edgar Albert Guest
My friend says I was not a good son
you understand
I say yes I understand
he says I did not go
to see my parents very often you know
and I say yes I know
even when I was living in the same city he says
maybe I would go there once
a month or maybe even less
I say oh yes
he says the last time I...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Yesterday is History,
'Tis so far away --
Yesterday is Poetry --
'Tis Philosophy --
Yesterday is mystery --
Where it is Today
While we shrewdly speculate
Flutter both away...Read more of this...
by
Kahlil Gibran
The gold-hoarder walked in his palace park and with him walked his troubles. And over his head hovered worries as a vulture hovers over a carcass, until he reached a beautiful lake surrounded by magnificent marble statuary.
He sat there pondering the water which poured from the mouths of the statues like thoughts flowing freely from a lover's imagination,...Read more of this...
by
Denise Levertov
This wild night, gathering the washing as if it were flowers animal vines twisting over the line and
slapping my face lightly, soundless merriment
in the gesticulations of shirtsleeves,
I recall out of my joy a night of misery
walking in the dark and the wind over broken earth,
halfmade foundations and unfinished drainage trenches and the spaced-out circles of glaring light marking streets...Read more of this...
by
James Whitcomb Riley
I
But yesterday
I looked away
O'er happy lands, where sunshine lay
In golden blots,
Inlaid with spots
Of shade and wild forget-me-nots.
My head was fair
With flaxen hair,
And fragrant breezes, faint and rare,
And, warm with drouth
From out the south,
Blew all my curls across my mouth.
And, cool and sweet,
My naked feet
Found...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Let Us play Yesterday --
I -- the Girl at school --
You -- and Eternity -- the
Untold Tale --
Easing my famine
At my Lexicon --
Logarithm -- had I -- for Drink --
'Twas a dry Wine --
Somewhat different -- must be --
Dreams tint the Sleep --
Cunning Reds of Morning
Make the Blind -- leap --
Still at the Egg-life --
Chafing the Shell --
When you...Read more of this...
by
Fernando Pessoa
How yesterday is long ago! The past
Is a fixed infinite distance from to-day,
And bygone things, the first-lived as the last,
In irreparable sameness far away.
How the to-be is infinitely ever
Out of the place wherein it will be Now,
Like the seen wave yet far up in the river,
Which reaches not us, but the new-waved flow!
This thing Time is, whose being is having...Read more of this...
by
Robert Frost
These pools that, though in forests, still reflect
The total sky almost without defect,
And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver,
Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone,
And yet not out by any brook or river,
But up by roots to bring dark foliage on.
The trees that have it in their pent-up buds
To darken nature and be summer woods...Read more of this...
by
Christina Rossetti
From 'The Prince's Progress'
TOO late for love, too late for joy,
Too late, too late!
You loiter'd on the road too long,
You trifled at the gate:
The enchanted dove upon her branch
Died without a mate;
The enchanted princess in her tower
Slept, died, behind the grate;
Her heart was starving all this...Read more of this...
by
Denise Duhamel
There is a chimp named Ai who can count to five.
There's a poet named Ai whose selected poems Vice
just won the National Book Award.
The name "Ai" is pronounced "I"
so that whenever I talk about the poet Ai
such as I'm teaching Ai's poems again this semester
it sounds like I'm teaching my own poems
or when I say I love Ai's work
it...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Yesterday evening, in the tavern, the object of my
heart that ravishes my soul [God] presented me a cup
with a ravishing air of sincerity and a desire to please
me, inviting me to drink. No, said I to him, I will
not drink. Drink, he answered me, for the love of my
heart....Read more of this...
by
Marriott Edgar
The day after Christmas, young Albert
Were what's called, confined to his bed,
With a tight kind of pain in his stummick
And a light feeling up in his head.
His parents were all in a fluster
When they saw little lad were so sick,
They said, 'Put out your tongue!', When they'd seen it
They said, 'Put it back again - quick!'
Ma made him a...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
But yesterday, I saw a potter in a bazaar treading
most vigorously the clay he was molding. The clay
seemed to say to him: I also have been like thee; treat
me, then, with less harshness....Read more of this...
by
A R Ammons
After yesterday
afternoon's blue
clouds and white rain
the mockingbird
in the backyard
untied the drops from
leaves and twigs
with a long singing....Read more of this...
by
Paul Laurence Dunbar
Yesterday I held your hand,
Reverently I pressed it,
And its gentle yieldingness
From my soul I blessed it.
But to-day I sit alone,
Sad and sore repining;
Must our gold forever know
Flames for the refining?
Yesterday I walked with you,
Could a day be sweeter?
Life was all a lyric song
Set to tricksy meter.
Ah, to-day is like a dirge,—
Place my arms around you,
Let me feel the same dear...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Cheer up! your lot was settled yesterday!
Heedless of all that you might do or say,
Without so much as «By your leave» they fixed
Your lot for all the morrows yesterday!...Read more of this...
by
Edward Taylor
for my father, 1922-1944
Your face did not rot
like the others--the co-pilot,
for example, I saw him
yesterday. His face is corn-
mush: his wife and daughter,
the poor ignorant people, stare
as if he will compose soon.
He was more wronged than Job.
But your face did not rot
like the others--it grew dark,
and hard like ebony;
the features progressed in their
distinction. If I could cajole
you to come...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Yesterday, I visited the workshop of a potter; there I
saw two thousand pitchers, some speaking, others silent.
Each one of these seemed to say to me: Where is the
potter? Where is the buyer of pitchers? Where the
seller?...Read more of this...
by
Edgar Albert Guest
I've trod the links with many a man,
And played him club for club;
'Tis scarce a year since I began
And I am still a dub.
But this I've noticed as we strayed
Along the bunkered way,
No one with me has ever played
As he did yesterday.
It makes no difference what the drive,
Together as we walk,
Till we up to the ball arrive,
I get...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
But yesterday, at eve, I broke a china cup against a
stone. I was drunk when committing this senseless act.
This cup seemed to say to me: «I have been like thee;
thou wilt, in thy turn, be like me.»
380...Read more of this...
by
Carl Sandburg
THE HIGH horses of the sea broke their white riders
On the walls that held and counted the hours
The wind lasted.
Two landbirds looked on and the north and the east
Looked on and the wind poured cups of foam
And the evening began.
The old men in the shanties looked on and lit their
Pipes and the young men spoke of the girls
For a...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Yesterday, while passing drunk before an inn, I met an
old man overcome with wine and carrying a gourd of
wine upon his back. I said to him: O aged man! have
you no fear of God? He answered me: Pity comes from
Him; go, drink some wine.
340...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Yesterday [before day], in company with a charming
friend and a cup of rose-colored wine, I was seated on
the border of a brook. Before me stood the cup, that
shell, of which the pearl [contained in the cup] shed
such a brilliant light that the herald of the sun, awaking
with a start, announced the Dawn....Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
A single Screw of Flesh
Is all that pins the Soul
That stands for Deity, to Mine,
Upon my side the Veil --
Once witnessed of the Gauze --
Its name is put away
As far from mine, as if no plight
Had printed yesterday,
In tender -- solemn Alphabet,
My eyes just turned to see,
When it was smuggled by my sight
Into Eternity --
More Hands -- to hold...Read more of this...
by
Anne Sexton
This is the desk I sit at
and this is the desk where I love you too much
and this is the typewriter that sits before me
where yesterday only your body sat before me
with its shoulders gathered in like a Greek chorus,
with its tongue like a king making up rules as he goes,
with its tongue quite openly like a cat lapping...Read more of this...
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