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Famous Mackerel Poems by Famous Poets

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

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by Doty, Mark
...uality. Instead 

they're all exact expressions
of the one soul,
each a perfect fulfillment 

of heaven's template,
mackerel essence. As if, 
after a lifetime arriving 

at this enameling, the jeweler's
made uncountable examples
each as intricate 

in its oily fabulation
as the one before;
a cosmos of champleve. 

Suppose we could iridesce,
like these, and lose ourselves
entirely in the universe 

of shimmer--would you want
to be yourself only,
unduplicatable, doo...Read More

by Plath, Sylvia
...Is it any wonder he puts on dark glasses?

Is it any wonder he affects a black cassock?
Here he comes now, among the mackerel gatherers

Who wall up their backs against him.
They are handling the black and green lozenges like the parts of a body.

The sea, that crystallized these, 
Creeps away, many-snaked, with a long hiss of distress.


This black boot has no mercy for anybody.
Why should it, it is the hearse of a dad foot,

The high, d...Read More

by Betjeman, John
...r> His wife stands timidly by.
The opposite brick-built house looks lofty and calm
 Its chimneys steady against the mackerel sky.

No hope. And the iron knob of this palisade
 So cold to the touch, is luckier now than he
"Oh merciless, hurrying Londoners! Why was I made
 For the long and painful deathbed coming to me?"

She puts her fingers in his, as, loving and silly
 At long-past Kensington dances she used to do
"It's cheaper to take the tube to Piccadilly
 And...Read More

by Slessor, Kenneth your voice? 

I looked out my window in the dark 
At waves with diamond quills and combs of light 
That arched their mackerel-backs and smacked the sand 
In the moon's drench, that straight enormous glaze, 
And ships far off asleep, and Harbour-buoys 
Tossing their fireballs wearily each to each, 
And tried to hear your voice, but all I heard 
Was a boat's whistle, and the scraping squeal 
Of seabirds' voices far away, and bells, 
Five bells. Five bells coldly ringing ...Read More

by Thomas, Dylan
...y dive, the dust settles,
The cadaverous gravels, falls thick and steadily,
The highroad of water where the seabear and mackerel
Turn the long sea arterial
Turning a petrol face blind to the enemy
Turning the riderless dead by the channel wall.

(Death instrumental,
Splitting the long eye open, and the spiral turnkey,
Your corkscrew grave centred in navel and nipple,
The neck of the nostril,
Under the mask and the ether, they making bloody
The tray of knives, the antisept...Read More

by Bishop, Elizabeth
...iery pale chemicals,
please come flying,
to the rapid rolling of thousands of small blue drums
descending out of the mackerel sky
over the glittering grandstand of harbor-water,
please come flying.

Whistles, pennants and smoke are blowing. The ships
are signaling cordially with multitudes of flags
rising and falling like birds all over the harbor.
Enter: two rivers, gracefully bearing
countless little pellucid jellies
in cut-glass epergnes dragging wi...Read More

by Hall, Donald
...ourished above you in autumn, and in winter
frost heaved your bones in the ground - old toilers, soil makers:

O Roger, Mackerel, Riley, Ned, Nellie, Chester, Lady Ghost....Read More

by Whitman, Walt
...a huge kettle of boiling water, the lobsters shall be boil’d till their
 becomes scarlet.

Or, another time, mackerel-taking, 
Voracious, mad for the hook, near the surface, they seem to fill the water for miles: 
Or, another time, fishing for rock-fish, in Chesapeake Bay—I one of the brown-faced
Or, another time, trailing for blue-fish off Paumanok, I stand with braced body, 
My left foot is on the gunwale—my right arm throws the coils of slender rope,
In ...Read More

by Yeats, William Butler
...r> The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
- Those dying generations - at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.


An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is th...Read More

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