Famous Myself Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Myself poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous myself poems. These examples illustrate what a famous myself poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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by
Walt Whitman
MYSELF and mine gymnastic ever,
To stand the cold or heat—to take good aim with a gun—to sail a boat—to
manage
horses—to beget superb children,
To speak readily and clearly—to feel at home among common people,
And to hold our own in terrible positions, on land and sea.
Not for an embroiderer;
(There will always be plenty of embroiderers—I welcome...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
I have shut upon myself the door of avarice, and am
thus free from obligation to those who are men and those
who do not merit the name. Since there exists but one
friend [God] toward whom I can extend my hand, I am
what I am, and that concerns only Him and me.
347...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Yes, I have found myself in close acquaintance with
wine, with drunkenness. But why does the world blame
me for it? Oh! would to God that all which is illegal
might produce drunkenness! For then never here below
should I have seen a shadow of sound reason....Read more of this...
by
Robert Creeley
What, younger, felt
was possible, now knows
is not - but still
not chanted enough -
Walked by the sea,
unchanged in memory -
evening, as clouds
on the far-off rim
of water float,
pictures of time,
smoke, faintness -
still the dream.
I want, if older,
still to know
why, human, men
and women are
so torn, so lost,
why hopes cannot
find better world
than this.
Shelley is dead and gone,
who said,
"Taught them not this -
to know...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
I see neither the means of joining myself to Thee,
nor the possibility of living for the space of a breath
separated from Thee. I have not the courage to drive
out the torments I endure. Oh! how difficult my plight,
how strange my grief, how exquisite my pain!...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Conferring with myself
My stranger disappeared
Though first upon a berry fat
Miraculously fared
How paltry looked my cares
My practise how absurd
Superfluous my whole career
Beside this travelling Bird...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
The day when I shall know myself no more, and when
they will speak of me as of a fable, then I desire [do
I dare say it?] that my clay be made into a jar for wine
and destined to service at the tavern....Read more of this...
by
Lew Welch
I saw myself
a ring of bone
in the clear stream
of all of it
and vowed
always to be open to it
that all of it
might flow through
and then heard
"ring of bone" where
ring is what a
bell does...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
You taught me Waiting with Myself --
Appointment strictly kept --
You taught me fortitude of Fate --
This -- also -- I have learnt --
An Altitude of Death, that could
No bitterer debar
Than Life -- had done -- before it --
Yet -- there is a Science more --
The Heaven you know -- to understand
That you be not ashamed
Of Me -- in Christ's...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
How long shall I trouble myself with the care of knowing
whether I possess or do not possess—if I ought or
ought not to pass life gaily? Fill ever the cup of wine,
O cupbearer! for I do not know whether I shall breathe
out this breath that I am actually breathing or not....Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
For myself, I should pour some wine into a cup that
would contain a pint. I should be content with two
cups; but first I should divorce myself thrice from religion
and reason, and then espouse the daughter of the
vine....Read more of this...
by
Etheridge Knight
(or Blues for a Mississippi Black Boy)
I was born in Mississippi;
I walked barefooted thru the mud.
Born black in Mississippi,
Walked barefooted thru the mud.
But, when I reached the age of twelve
I left that place for good.
My daddy chopped cotton
And he drank his liquor straight.
Said my daddy chopped cotton
And he drank his liquor straight.
When I left that Sunday morning
He was leaning...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
I gave myself to Him --
And took Himself, for Pay,
The solemn contract of a Life
Was ratified, this way --
The Wealth might disappoint --
Myself a poorer prove
Than this great Purchaser suspect,
The Daily Own -- of Love
Depreciate the Vision --
But till the Merchant buy --
Still Fable -- in the Isles of Spice --
The subtle Cargoes -- lie --
At least -- 'tis...Read more of this...
by
Mark Strand
I give up my eyes which are glass eggs.
I give up my tongue.
I give up my mouth which is the contstant dream of my tongue.
I give up my throat which is the sleeve of my voice.
I give up my heart which is a burning apple.
I give up my lungs which are trees that have never seen the moon.
I give...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Somehow myself survived the Night
And entered with the Day --
That it be saved the Saved suffice
Without the Formula.
Henceforth I take my living place
As one commuted led --
A Candidate for Morning Chance
But dated with the Dead....Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Although it may be through duty that I present myself
at the mosque, it certainly is not for the purpose of
making a prayer. One day I stole a sedjaddeh [prayer-rug].
The sedjaddeh is worn out; I have returned
again, and still again....Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Have any like Myself
Investigating March,
New Houses on the Hill descried --
And possibly a Church --
That were not, We are sure --
As lately as the Snow --
And are Today -- if We exist --
Though how may this be so?
Have any like Myself
Conjectured Who may be
The Occupants of the Adobes --
So easy to the Sky --
'Twould seem that God should be
The...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Fame of Myself, to justify,
All other Plaudit be
Superfluous -- An Incense
Beyond Necessity --
Fame of Myself to lack -- Although
My Name be else Supreme --
This were an Honor honorless --
A futile Diadem --...Read more of this...
by
Anna Akhmatova
I taught myself to live simply and wisely,
to look at the sky and pray to God,
and to wander long before evening
to tire my superfluous worries.
When the burdocks rustle in the ravine
and the yellow-red rowanberry cluster droops
I compose happy verses
about life's decay, decay and beauty.
I come back. The fluffy cat
licks my palm, purrs so sweetly
and the fire flares bright
on the...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Myself can read the Telegrams
A Letter chief to me
The Stock's advance and Retrograde
And what the Markets say
The Weather -- how the Rains
In Counties have begun.
'Tis News as null as nothing,
But sweeter so -- than none....Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
I hide myself within my flower,
That fading from your Vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me --
Almost a loneliness....Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Myself was formed -- a Carpenter --
An unpretending time
My Plane -- and I, together wrought
Before a Builder came --
To measure our attainments --
Had we the Art of Boards
Sufficiently developed -- He'd hire us
At Halves --
My Tools took Human -- Faces --
The Bench, where we had toiled --
Against the Man -- persuaded --
We -- Temples build -- I said --...Read more of this...
by
Sir Walter Raleigh
I was a Poet!
But I did not know it,
Neither did my Mother,
Nor my Sister nor my Brother.
The Rich were not aware of it;
The Poor took no care of it.
The Reverend Mr. Drewitt
Never knew it.
The High did not suspect it;
The Low could not detect it.
Aunt Sue
Said it was obviously untrue.
Uncle Ned
Said I was off my head:
(This from a Colonial
Was...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Severer Service of myself
I -- hastened to demand
To fill the awful Vacuum
Your life had left behind --
I worried Nature with my Wheels
When Hers had ceased to run --
When she had put away Her Work
My own had just begun.
I strove to weary Brain and Bone --
To harass to fatigue
The glittering Retinue of nerves --
Vitality to clog
To some dull comfort Those...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Think not I am existent of myself,
Or walk this blood-stained pathway of myself;
This being is not I, it is of Him.
Pray what, and where, and whence is this «myself»?...Read more of this...
Dont forget to view our wonderful member Myself poems.