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Famous New York City Poems by Famous Poets

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

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by Knight, Etheridge
...un shining in her eyes.
And I headed North
As straight as the Wild Goose Flies,
I been to Detroit & Chicago
Been to New York city too.
I been to Detroit & Chicago
Been to New York city too.
Said I done strolled all those funky avenues
I'm still the same old black boy with the same old blues.
Going back to Mississippi
This time to stay for good
Going back to Mississippi
This time to stay for good-
Gonna be free in Mississippi
Or dead in the Mississippi mud....Read more of this...



by Corso, Gregory
...just how horrible Bombdeath is I can only imagine
 Yet no other death I know has so laughable a preview I scope
 a city New York City streaming starkeyed subway shelter 
 Scores and scores A fumble of humanity High heels bend
 Hats whelming away Youth forgetting their combs
 Ladies not knowing what to do with their shopping bags
 Unperturbed gum machines Yet dangerous 3rd rail
 Ritz Brothers from the Bronx caught in the A train
 The smiling Schenley poster will always smile
 ...Read more of this...

by Jong, Erica
...We have a small sculpture of Henry James on our terrace in New York City.

Nothing would surprise him.
The beast in the jungle was what he saw--
Edith Wharton's obfuscating older brother. . .

He fled the demons
of Manhattan
for fear they would devour
his inner ones
(the ones who wrote the books)
& silence the stifled screams
of his protagonists.

To Europe
like a wandering Jew--
WASP that he...Read more of this...

by Lorde, Audre
...ers abandoned
as you had been abandoned
by another Black woman seeking
her fortune Grenada Barbados
Panama Grenada.
New York City.

IV.
You bought old books at auctions
for my unlanguaged world
gave me your idols Marcus Garvey Citizen Kane
and morsels from your dinner plate
when I was seven.
I owe you my Dahomeyan jaw
the free high school for gifted girls
no one else thought I should attend
and the darkness that we share.
Our deepest bonds remain
the mirro...Read more of this...

by Lehman, David
...moon
but the breeze was whistling
and the sound of a car
on Valentine Place was
the rush of a waterfall
on the phone in New York City
and that's when the muse
turned up with curly brown locks
she was a poet, too, and wanted
me to give her an assignment
she was willing to trade
fifteen minutes of inspiration
in return for a phone call
from Frank O'Hara in heaven
sipping espresso and Irish whiskey
and then a morning swim
we had so much energy those days
we needed to burn some u...Read more of this...



by Butler, Ellis Parker
...There was a man in New York City
(His name was George Adolphus Knight)
So soft of heart he wept with pity
To see our language and its plight.

He mourned to see it sorely goaded
With silent letters left and right;
These from his own name he unloaded
And wrote it Georg Adolfus Nit.

Six other men in that same city
Who longed to see a Spelling Heaven
Formed of themselves...Read more of this...

by Frost, Robert
...ther,
I choose to be a plain New Hampshire farmer
With an income in cash of, say, a thousand
(From, say, a publisher in New York City). 
It's restful to arrive at a decision,
And restful just to think about New Hampshire.
At present I am living in Vermont....Read more of this...

by Lehman, David
...He woke up in New York City on Valentine's Day,
Speeding. The body in the booth next to his was still warm,
Was gone. He had bought her a sweater, a box of chocolate
Said her life wasn't working he looked stricken she said
You're all bent out of shape, accusingly, and when he
She went from being an Ivy League professor of French
To an illustrator for a slick midto...Read more of this...

by Sexton, Anne
...ans are dying, 
and dying so hold me, my young dear, 
hold me... 
The yellow rose will turn to cinder 

and New York City will fall in 
before we are done so hold me, 
my young dear, hold me. 
Put your pale arms around my neck. 
Let me hold your heart like a flower 
lest it bloom and collapse. 
Give me your skin 
as sheer as a cobweb, 
let me open it up 
and listen in and scoop out the dark. 
Give me your nether lips 
all puffy with their art 
and ...Read more of this...

by Sexton, Anne
...ans are dying, 
and dying so hold me, my young dear, 
hold me... 

The yellow rose will turn to cinder 
and New York City will fall in 
before we are done so hold me, 
my young dear, hold me. 
Put your pale arms around my neck. 
Let me hold your heart like a flower 
lest it bloom and collapse. 
Give me your skin 
as sheer as a cobweb, 
let me open it up 
and listen in and scoop out the dark. 
Give me your nether lips 
all puffy with their art 
and ...Read more of this...

by Sexton, Anne
...e with its green breasts and bellies. 
Of course guitars will not play! 
The snakes will certainly not notice. 
New York City will not mind. 
At night the bats will beat on the trees, 
knowing it all, 
seeing what they sensed all day....Read more of this...

by Sexton, Anne
...bone, ankle,
touch them.

It makes me laugh
to see a woman in this condition.
It makes me laugh for America and New York city
when your hands are cut off
and no one answers the phone....Read more of this...

by Gillan, Maria Mazziotti
...s the cherry trees that only today
have torn into bloom.
Imagine: my cousin at 19, tall,
slender. She worked in New York City.
For my thirteenth birthday she took me
to New York. We ate at the Russian Tea Room
where I was uncertain about which fork to use,
intimidated by the women in their hats and furs,
by the waiters who watched me
as I struggled with the huge hunk of bread
in the center of the onion soup in its steep bowl.
When we were ready to leave, I...Read more of this...

by Bukowski, Charles
...I was shacked with a
24 year old girl from
New York City for
two weeks- about
the time of the garbage
strike out there, and
one night my 34 year 
old woman arrived and
she said, "I want to see
my rival." she did
and then she said, "o,
you're a cute little thing!"
next I knew there was a 
screech of wildcats-
such screaming and scratch-
ing, wounded animal moans,
blood and piss. . .
I ...Read more of this...

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