Famous Missed Poems by Famous Poets

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

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The Man In The Dead Machine

by Donald Hall
 High on a slope in New Guinea
The Grumman Hellcat
lodges among bright vines
as thick as arms. In 1943,
the clenched hand of a pilot
glided it here
where no one has ever been. 

In the cockpit, the helmeted
skeleton sits
upright, held
by dry sinews at neck
and shoulder, and webbing
that straps the pelvic cross
to the cracked
leather of the seat, and the breastbone
to the canvas cover
of the...Read more of this...

More Later Less The Same

by Edward Taylor
 The common is unusually calm--they captured the storm
last night, it's sleeping in the stockade, relieved
of its duty, pacified, tamed, a pussycat.
But not before it tied the flagpole in knots,
and not before it alarmed the firemen out of their pants.
Now it's really calm, almost too calm, as though
anything could happen, and it would be a first.
It could be the worst...Read more of this...

The Burial of the Reverend Gilfillan

by William Topaz McGonagall
 On the Gilfillan burial day,
In the Hill o' Balgay,
It was a most solemn sight to see,
Not fewer than thirty thousand people assembled in Dundee,
All watching the funeral procession of Gilfillan that day,
That death had suddenly taken away,
And was going to be buried in the Hill o' Balgay. 

There were about three thousand people in the procession alone,
And many were...Read more of this...

Exposure

by Seamus Heaney
 It is December in Wicklow:
Alders dripping, birches
Inheriting the last light,
The ash tree cold to look at.

A comet that was lost
Should be visible at sunset,
Those million tons of light
Like a glimmer of haws and rose-hips,

And I sometimes see a falling star.
If I could come on meteorite!
Instead I walk through damp leaves,
Husks, the spent flukes of autumn,

Imagining a hero
On some muddy...Read more of this...

The Shepherds

by Henry Vaughan
 Sweet, harmless lives! (on whose holy leisure
Waits innocence and pleasure),
Whose leaders to those pastures, and clear springs,
Were patriarchs, saints, and kings,
How happened it that in the dead of night
You only saw true light,
While Palestine was fast asleep, and lay
Without one thought of day?
Was it because those first and blessed swains
Were pilgrims on those plains
When they received the promise, for...Read more of this...

The Wind of Sorrow

by Henry Van Dyke
 The fire of love was burning, yet so low
That in the dark we scarce could see its rays,
And in the light of perfect-placid days
Nothing but smouldering embers dull and slow.
Vainly, for love's delight, we sought to throw
New pleasures on the pyre to make it blaze:
In life's calm air and tranquil-prosperous ways
We missed the radiant heat of long ago.

Then in...Read more of this...

Death Of A Cockroach

by Robert William Service
 I opened wide the bath-room door,
And all at once switched on the light,
When moving swift across the floor
I saw a streak of ebon bright:
Then quick, with slipper in my hand,
Before it could escape,--I slammed.
I missed it once, I missed it twice,
But got it ere it gained its lair.
I fear my words were far from nice,
Though d----s with me are...Read more of this...

Autumn And Winter

by Algernon Charles Swinburne
 Three months bade wane and wax the wintering moon
Between two dates of death, while men were fain
Yet of the living light that all too soon
Three months bade wane.

Cold autumn, wan with wrath of wind and rain,
Saw pass a soul sweet as the sovereign tune
That death smote silent when he smote again.

First went my friend, in life's mid light of...Read more of this...

Bridge Over The Aire Book 6

by Barry Tebb
 THE WALK TO THE PARADISE GARDENS



1



Bonfire Night beckoned us to the bridge

By Saint Hilda’s where we started down

Knostrop to chump but I trailed behind

With Margaret when it was late September

The song of summer ceased and fires in

Blackleaded grates began and we were

Hidden from the others by the bridge’s span.

2



When you bent I saw the buds of your breasts

As you...Read more of this...

The Married Man

by Badger Clark
  There's an old pard of mine that sits by his door
    And watches the evenin' skies.
  He's sat there a thousand of evenin's before
    And I reckon he will till he dies.
  El pobre! I reckon he will till he dies,
    And hear through the dim, quiet...Read more of this...

Child Development

by Billy Collins
 As sure as prehistoric fish grew legs
and sauntered off the beaches into forests
working up some irregular verbs for their
first conversation, so three-year-old children
enter the phase of name-calling.

Every day a new one arrives and is added
to the repertoire. You Dumb Goopyhead,
You Big Sewerface, You Poop-on-the-Floor
(a kind of Navaho ring to that one)
they yell from knee level, their little mugs
flushed with...Read more of this...

Light and Dark

by George William Russell
 NOT the soul that’s whitest
 Wakens love the sweetest:
When the heart is lightest
 Oft the charm is fleetest.


While the snow-frail maiden,
 Waits the time of learning,
To the passion laden
 Turn with eager yearning.


While the heart is burning
 Heaven with earth is banded:
To the stars returning
 Go not empty-handed.


Ah, the snow-frail maiden!
 Somehow truth has missed her,
Left the heart unladen
...Read more of this...

Armand Barbes

by Algernon Charles Swinburne
 Fire out of heaven, a flower of perfect fire,
That where the roots of life are had its root
And where the fruits of time are brought forth fruit;
A faith made flesh, a visible desire,
That heard the yet unbreathing years respire
And speech break forth of centuries that sit mute
Beyond all feebler footprint of pursuit;
That touched the highest of hope, and went...Read more of this...

Haiku (Never Published)

by Allen Ginsberg
 Drinking my tea
Without sugar-
 No difference.

The sparrow shits
 upside down
--ah! my brain & eggs

Mayan head in a
Pacific driftwood bole
--Someday I'll live in N.Y.

Looking over my shoulder
my behind was covered
with cherry blossoms.

 Winter Haiku
I didn't know the names 
of the flowers--now
my garden is gone.

I slapped the mosquito
and missed.
What made me do that?

Reading haiku
I am unhappy,
longing for the Nameless.

A frog floating...Read more of this...

Yasmini

by Adela Florence Cory Nicolson
   At night, when Passion's ebbing tide
     Left bare the Sands of Truth,
   Yasmini, resting by my side,
     Spoke softly of her youth.

   "And one" she said "was tall and slim,
     Two crimson rose leaves made his mouth,
   And I...Read more of this...

Heigh-Ho, The Carrion Crow

by Mother Goose
A carrion crow sat on an oak,
    Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do,
Watching a tailor shape his cloak;
    Sing heigh-ho, the carrion crow,
    Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!

Wife, bring me my old bent bow,
    Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi...Read more of this...

Days of Pie and Coffee

by James Tate
 A motorist once said to me, 
and this was in the country, 
on a county lane, a motorist 
slowed his vehicle as I was 
walking my dear old collie,
Sithney, by the side of the road, 
and the motorist came to a halt 
mildly alarming both Sithney and myself, 
not yet accustomed to automobiles, 
and this particular motorist 
sent a...Read more of this...

My period had come for Prayer --

by Emily Dickinson
 My period had come for Prayer --
No other Art -- would do --
My Tactics missed a rudiment --
Creator -- Was it you?

God grows above -- so those who pray
Horizons -- must ascend --
And so I stepped upon the North
To see this Curious Friend --

His House was not -- no sign had He --
By Chimney -- nor by Door
Could I...Read more of this...

Sorry I Missed You

by Barry Tebb
 (or ‘Huddersfield the Second Poetry Capital of England Re-visited’)



What was it Janice Simmons said to me as James lay dying in Ireland?

“Phone Peter Pegnall in Leeds, an ex-pupil of Jimmy’s. He’s organising

A benefit reading, he’d love to hear from you and have your help.”



‘Like hell he would’ I thought but I phoned him all the same

At his converted farmhouse...Read more of this...

Traveling Dream

by Marge Piercy
 I am packing to go to the airport 
but somehow I am never packed. 
I keep remembering more things 
I keep forgetting. 

Secretly the clock is bolting 
forward ten minutes at a click 
instead of one. Each time 
I look away, it jumps. 

Now I remember I have to find 
the cats. I have four cats 
even when I...Read more of this...

He told a homely tale

by Emily Dickinson
 He told a homely tale
And spotted it with tears --
Upon his infant face was set
The Cicatrice of years --

All crumpled was the cheek
No other kiss had known
Than flake of snow, divided with
The Redbreast of the Barn --

If Mother -- in the Grave --
Or Father -- on the Sea --
Or Father in the Firmament --
Or Brethren, had he --

If Commonwealth...Read more of this...

Keats

by Henry Van Dyke
 The melancholy gift Aurora gained
From Jove, that her sad lover should not see
The face of death, no goddess asked for thee, 
My Keats! But when the crimson blood-drop stained
Thy pillow, thou didst read the fate ordained, --
Brief life, wild love, a flight of poesy! 
And then, -- a shadow fell on Italy:
Thy star went down before its brightness waned,...Read more of this...

A Martian Sends A Postcard Home

by Craig Raine
 Caxtons are mechanical birds with many wings
and some are treasured for their markings --

they cause the eyes to melt
or the body to shriek without pain.

I have never seen one fly, but
sometimes they perch on the hand.

Mist is when the sky is tired of flight
and rests its soft machine on ground:

then the world is dim and bookish
like engravings under tissue...Read more of this...

The Tourist From Syracuse

by Donald Justice
 One of those men who can be a car salesman or a tourist from Syracuse or a
hired assassin.
-- John D. MacDonald

You would not recognize me.
Mine is the face which blooms in
The dank mirrors of washrooms
As you grope for the light switch.

My eyes have the expression
Of the cold eyes of statues
Watching their pigeons return
From the feed you have scattered,

And I...Read more of this...

Textures

by Barry Tebb
 The grain of the exposed boards

Speaks through the wall of the years

We are back in our cottage

On the wind-swathed hills

Watching late winter dawns

Gather like kindled flame.

We are back with those winter dusks, -

The hyaline air hung in darkness

And a vale of stars, waking in blankets

Laid on bare boards, making a fire

From our dreams.

We are walking through mist

On snow-skirled roads,...Read more of this...

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