Famous My Kids Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Trial

by Ruth Padel
 I was with Special Force, blue-X-ing raids 
to OK surfing on the Colonel's birthday.
Operation Ariel: we sprayed Jimi Hendrix
loud from helis to frighten the slopes 
before 'palming. A turkey shoot.


*

The Nang fogged up. The men you need
are moral and kill like angels. Passionless. 
No judgement. Judgement defeats us. 
You're choosing between nightmares all the time.
My first tour, we hissed...Read more of this...

45 Mercy Street

by Anne Sexton
 In my dream, 
drilling into the marrow 
of my entire bone, 
my real dream, 
I'm walking up and down Beacon Hill 
searching for a street sign -- 
namely MERCY STREET. 
Not there. 

I try the Back Bay. 
Not there. 
Not there. 
And yet I know the number. 
45 Mercy Street. 
I know the stained-glass window 
of the foyer, 
the...Read more of this...

The Thinker

by Robert William Service
 Of all the men I ever knew
The tinkingest was Uncle Jim;
If there were any chores to do
We couldn't figure much on him.
He'd have a thinking job on hand,
And on the rocking-chair he'd sit,
And think and think to beat the band,
And snap his galusus and spit.

We kids regarded him with awe -
His beard browned by tobacco stains,
His hayseed had of...Read more of this...

A Song Of The Sandbags

by Robert William Service
 No, Bill, I'm not a-spooning out no patriotic tosh
 (The cove be'ind the sandbags ain't a death-or-glory cuss).
And though I strafes 'em good and 'ard I doesn't 'ate the Boche,
 I guess they're mostly decent, just the same as most of us.
I guess they loves their 'omes and kids as much as you or me;
 And just the same...Read more of this...

Wounded

by Robert William Service
 Is it not strange? A year ago to-day,
 With scarce a thought beyond the hum-drum round,
I did my decent job and earned my pay;
 Was averagely happy, I'll be bound.
Ay, in my little groove I was content,
 Seeing my life run smoothly to the end,
With prosy days in stolid labour spent,
 And jolly nights, a pipe, a glass, a...Read more of this...

The Aftermath

by Robert William Service
 Although my blood I've shed
 In war's red wrath,
Oh how I darkly dread
 Its aftermath!
Oh how I fear the day
 Of my release,
When I must face the fray
 Of phoney peace!

When I must fend again
 In labour strife;
And toil with sweat and strain
 For kids and wife.
The world is so upset
 I battled for,
That grimly I regret
 The peace...Read more of this...

Sex With A Famous Poet

by Denise Duhamel
 I had sex with a famous poet last night 
and when I rolled over and found myself beside him I shuddered 
because I was married to someone else, 
because I wasn't supposed to have been drinking,
because I was in fancy hotel room
I didn't recognize. I would have told you 
right off this was a dream, but recently 
a friend...Read more of this...

Tar

by C K Williams
 The first morning of Three Mile Island: those first disquieting, uncertain, 
mystifying hours.
All morning a crew of workmen have been tearing the old decrepit roof
off our building,
and all morning, trying to distract myself, I've been wandering out to 
watch them
as they hack away the leaden layers of asbestos paper and disassemble 
the disintegrating drains.
After half a night of listening...Read more of this...

Child Lover

by Robert William Service
 Drunk or sober Uncle Jim
 Played the boy;
Never glum or sour or grim,
 Oozin' joy.
Most folks thought he was no good,
 Blamin' him;
But where kiddies were, you could
 Bank on Jim.

Sure he allus hated work,
 Lovin' play.
"Jest a good fer nuthin' jerk,"
 Lots would say.
Yet how the children fell for him,
 Whooped with glee:
Guys so popular as Jim
 Seldom...Read more of this...

Stupid

by Raymond Carver
 It's what the kids nowadays call weed. And it drifts
like clouds from his lips. He hopes no one
comes along tonight, or calls to ask for help.
Help is what he's most short on tonight.
A storm thrashes outside. Heavy seas
with gale winds from the west. The table he sits at
is, say, two cubits long and one wide.
The darkness in the room...Read more of this...

The Twins Of Lucky Strike

by Robert William Service
 I've sung of Violet de Vere, that slinky, minky dame,
Of Gertie of the Diamond Tooth, and Touch-the-Button Nell,
And Maye Lamore,--at eighty-four I oughta blush wi' shame
That in my wild and wooly youth I knew them ladies well.
And Klondike Kit, and Gumboot Sue, and many I've forgot;
They had their faults, as I recall, the same as you and me;
But come...Read more of this...

The Sniper

by Robert William Service
 Because back home in Tennessee
 I was a champeen shot,
They made a sniper outa me
 An' ninety krouts I got:
 I wish to Christ I'd not!

Athinkin' o' them blasted lives
 It's kindo' blue I be;
Them lads no doubt had kids an' wives
 An' happy home like me:
 Them stiffs I still can see.

Aye, ninety men or more my hand
...Read more of this...

Mag

by Carl Sandburg
 I WISH to God I never saw you, Mag.
I wish you never quit your job and came along with me.
I wish we never bought a license and a white dress
For you to get married in the day we ran off to a minister
And told him we would love each other and take care of
each other
Always and always long as...Read more of this...

Fisherman jims kids

by Eugene Field
 Fisherman Jim lived on the hill
With his bonnie wife an' his little boys;
'T wuz "Blow, ye winds, as blow ye will -
Naught we reck of your cold and noise!"
For happy and warm were he an' his,
And he dandled his kids upon his knee
To the song of the sea.

Fisherman Jim would sail all day,
But, when come night, upon the sands
His...Read more of this...

When A Feller's Itchin' To Be Spanked

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
W'en us fellers stomp around, makin' lots o' noise,
Gramma says, "There's certain times come to little boys
W'en they need a shingle or the soft side of a plank;"
She says "we're a-itchin' for a right good spank."
An' she says, "Now thes you wait,
It's a-comin'—soon or late,
W'en a feller's itchin' fer a spank."
W'en a feller's out o' school, you know how he...Read more of this...

Bachchay (Kids)

by Tanwir Phool
Bachchay hamaara kal haiN
Ham paiR haiN,woh phal haiN
Ta'aleem gar ho achchhi
Sab mas'alay hi Hal haiN
(Tanwir Phool)
****************
( English translation)
----------------------------
Our kids are our future
We are trees and they are fruits
If better education is provided to them
There will be no problem at all
*****************************************...Read more of this...

Saltbush Bill on the Patriarchs

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 Come all you little rouseabouts and climb upon my knee; 
To-day, you see, is Christmas Day, and so it’s up to me 
To give you some instruction like—a kind of Christmas tale— 
So name your yarn, and off she goes. What, “Jonah and the Whale”? 
Well, whales is sheep I’ve never shore; I’ve never been to sea, 
So all...Read more of this...

Poem For People That Are Understandably Too Busy To Read Poetry

by Stephen Dunn
 Relax. This won't last long.
Or if it does, or if the lines
make you sleepy or bored,
give in to sleep, turn on
the T.V., deal the cards.
This poem is built to withstand
such things. Its feelings
cannot be hurt. They exist 
somewhere in the poet,
and I am far away.
Pick it up anytime. Start it
in the middle if you wish.
It is as approachable as...Read more of this...

Talking To Little Birdies

by Charles Simic
 Not a peep out of you now
After the bedlam early this morning.
Are you begging pardon of me
Hidden up there among the leaves,
Or are your brains momentarily overtaxed?

You savvy a few things I don't:
The overlooked sunflower seed worth a holler;
The traffic of cats in the yard;
Strangers leaving the widow's house,
Tieless and wearing crooked grins.

Or have you got wind of the...Read more of this...

A Dialogue Between Thyrsis And Dorinda

by Andrew Marvell
 Dorinda
When Death, shall snatch us from these Kids,
And shut up our divided Lids,
Tell me Thyrsis, prethee do,
Whither thou and I must go.

Thyrsis
To the Elizium: (Dorinda) oh where i'st?

Thyrsis
A Chast Soul, can never mis't.

Dorinda
I know no way, but one, our home
Is our Elizium?

Thyrsis
Cast thine Eye to yonder Skie,
There the milky way doth lye;
'Tis a sure but rugged way,
That leads to...Read more of this...

My Hero

by Robert William Service
 Of all the boys with whom I fought
In Africa and Sicily,
Bill was the bravest of the lot
In our dare-devil Company.
That lad would rather die than yield;
His gore he glorified to spill,
And so in every battlefield
A hero in my eyes was Bill.

Then when the bloody war was done,
He moseyed back to our home town,
And there, a loving mother's son,
Like other...Read more of this...

the shakes

by Rg Gregory
 now pay attention
(said the teacher)
and look up here

the children looked up

this is william shakespeare

four centuries up
on a pedestal
was shakespeare's head

he was what we call
a great man

the children got sore necks
looking up
and some began to look down

no no
you mustn't look down
(said the teacher)
apart from winston churchill
shakespeare was the greatest
englishman who ever lived

the children's eyes
drained to their feet
and their minds
played around...Read more of this...

Impossible To Tell

by Robert Pinsky
 to Robert Hass and in memory of Elliot Gilbert


Slow dulcimer, gavotte and bow, in autumn,
Bashõ and his friends go out to view the moon;
In summer, gasoline rainbow in the gutter,

The secret courtesy that courses like ichor
Through the old form of the rude, full-scale joke,
Impossible to tell in writing. "Bashõ"

He named himself, "Banana Tree": banana
After the plant some grateful students...Read more of this...

Divided

by Jean Ingelow
.

An empty sky, a world of heather,
  Purple of foxglove, yellow of broom;
We two among them wading together,
  Shaking out honey, treading perfume.
Crowds of bees are giddy with clover,
  Crowds of grasshoppers skip at our feet,
Crowds of larks at their matins hang over,
  Thanking the Lord for a life so sweet.
Flusheth the rise with her purple...Read more of this...

An Ending

by Philip Levine
 Early March. 
The cold beach deserted. My kids 
home in a bare house, bundled up 
and listening to rock music 
pirated from England. My wife 
waiting for me in a bar, alone 
for an hour over her sherry, and none 
of us knows why I have to pace 
back and forth on this flat 
and birdless stretch of gleaming...Read more of this...

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