Famous Lorries Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Lorries poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous lorries poems. These examples illustrate what a famous lorries poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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...the windowed wall
Of the tall black block of
Offices marked ‘LMS’, with a
Huge clock and forecourt where
Drays and lorries
Rushed and loaded and turned.
42
The foremen wore black jackets
With silver buttons and brass
Watch chains decked their waistcoats;
They thumbed winders the size of burrs
To open watch faces, clipped wire
Spectacles over their ears, humming and
Hawing and blowing their noses into
Huge white handkerchiefs and set pint mugs
On the wall...Read more of this...
by
Tebb, Barry
...s my bridge,
Has gone from wartime camouflage grey to
Council green with a traffic island in between
The lanes where lorries roar and silent anglers
Stitched along the shore shelter under the
Giant red, green and yellow umbrellas of Monet.
In the Aire’s clear waters salmon dart and
Giant trout are basking in the sun;
There is abundant clay for potters’ wheels
With haptic stone for sculptors’ hands
And the surrounding water is lapis lazuli and ochre.
The steps t...Read more of this...
by
Tebb, Barry
....
There isn't a porter. The platform is made of sleepers.
The guard of the last train puts out the light
And high over lorries and cattle the Halt unwinking
Waits through the Wiltshire night.
O housewife safe in the comprehensive churning
Of the Warminster launderette!
O husband down at the depot with car in car-park!
The Halt is waiting yet.
And when all the horrible roads are finally done for,
And there's no more petrol left in the world to burn,
Here to the Halt from Sa...Read more of this...
by
Betjeman, John
...
And, though you tell me I shall die,
You say not how or when or why.
Indifferent the finches sing,
Unheeding roll the lorries past:
What misery will this year bring
Now spring is in the air at last?
For, sure as blackthorn bursts to snow,
Cancer in some of us will grow,
The tasteful crematorium door
Shuts out for some the furnace roar;
But church-bells open on the blast
Our loneliness, so long and vast....Read more of this...
by
Betjeman, John
...
The bullocks may bellow, the sheep they may bleat,
But the dogs and the herdsmen will turn them away.
The cars and the lorries run over the kerb,
And the villagers put up a notice: ROAD CLOSED--
So that nothing untoward may chance to distrub
Deuteronomy's rest when he feels so disposed
Or when he's engaged in domestic economy:
And the Oldest Inhabitant croaks: "Well, of all . . .
Things. . . Can it be . . . really! . . . No!. . . Yes!. . .
Ho! hi!
Oh, my eye!
My sight's unre...Read more of this...
by
Eliot, T S (Thomas Stearns)
...ighed
In warning if you went near,
Their polished brasses gleaming,
Their worn blinkers waxed;
When they brought in lorries
A two year old died
On the first day.
II
Behind a creosoted fence lay
The goodsyard with a single line
Where LMS wagons shunted from Barnsley
With wet coals gleaming
All the way to Neville Hill.
I never connected the clanking wagons
With our weekly coalmen, their faces
Black like miners, their backs bent
Under hundred weight sacks.
T...Read more of this...
by
Tebb, Barry
...Oh sun upon the summer-going by-pass
Where ev’rything is speeding to the sea,
And wonder beyond wonder
That here where lorries thunder
The sun should ever percolate to me.
When Boris used to call in his Sedanca,
When Teddy took me down to his estate
When my nose excited passion,
When my clothes were in the fashion,
When my beaux were never cross if I was late,
There was sun enough for lazing upon beaches,
There was fun enough for far into the night.
But I’m dying now ...Read more of this...
by
Betjeman, John
...d we are beyond the reach of the driving rain.
There is always the odd cottage no one can be bothered with where the lorries roar
But when you look behind a random stream gurgles by an overgrown track
With a gully of pebbles and an overhanging rock,
The door still hangs on that rusty latch; your thumb might still
Make it yield, not in the sturm und drang of adolescence but in
The quieter intimacies of shared grief.
The hills have not moved nor the clouds altered th...Read more of this...
by
Tebb, Barry
...he alleys where Premiers never come,
Nor candidate, nor delegate, nor sound of fife and drum,
They packed them on the lorries, seared children of the slum.
Each face seemed soiled and faded, though scrubbed with household soap,
And older than a mother-face, but with less sign of hope:
The knowledge of things evil, of drunken wreck and hag,
Of sordid sounds and voices, the everlasting "nag" –
Oh, men without a battle-song! Oh, men without a flag!
They breed a nation'...Read more of this...
by
Lawson, Henry
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