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Famous Professional Poems by Famous Poets

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

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by Shapiro, Karl
The traffic mounts bombastically out there,
And across the street in a pitch-black bar
With midnight mirrors, the professional
Takes her first whiskey of the afternoon--

Ah! It is like a breath of country air....Read more of this...

by Amichai, Yehuda
...e forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loves
he begins to forget.

And his soul is seasoned, his soul
is very professional.
Only his body remains forever
an amateur. It tries and it misses,
gets muddled, doesn't learn a thing,
drunk and blind in its pleasures 
and its pains.

He will die as figs die in autumn,
Shriveled and full of himself and sweet,
the leaves growing dry on the ground,
the bare branches pointing to the place
where there's time for ever...Read more of this...

by Berryman, John
...ave it alone.
I do leave it alone.
And down with the listener.

Now he has become, abrupt, an industry.
Professional-Friends-Of-Robert-Frost all over
gap wide their mouths
while the quirky medium of so many truths
is quiet. Let's be quiet. Let us listen:
—What for, Mr Bones?
 —while he begins to have it out with Horace....Read more of this...

by Collins, Billy of dispensing
warnings to the careless,
the half-wit camper,
the dumbbell hiker.

He is going to show them
how a professional does it....Read more of this...

by Henley, William Ernest
From sinister reach to reach out -- out -- to sea.
And Death the while --
Death with his well-worn, lean, professional smile,
Death in his threadbare working trim--
Comes to your bedside, unannounced and bland,
And with expert, inevitable hand
Feels at your windpipe, fingers you in the lung,
Or flicks the clot well into the labouring heart:
Thus signifying unto old and young,
However hard of mouth or wild of whim,
'Tis time -- 'tis time by his ancient watch -- t...Read more of this...

by Lehman, David
...made me recite my name, rank, and serial number when
I woke up, sweating, in my civvies. All my friends had jobs
As professional liars, and most had partners who were good in bed.
What did I have? Just this feeling of always being in the middle
Of things, and the luck of looking younger than fifty.

At dawn I returned to draft headquarters. I was eighteen
And counting backwards. The interviewer asked one loaded
Question after another, such as why I often r...Read more of this...

by Paterson, Andrew Barton
...d 'em, sure as fate; 
Left on the ribs and right on the jaw -- and, when the chance comes, make sure! 
And it's there a professional bloke like me gets home on an amateur: 
For it's my experience every day, and I make no doubt it's yours, 
That a third-class pro is an over-match for the best of the amateurs --" 
"Oh, take your swag to the travellers' hut," said Smith, "for you waste your breath; 
You've a first-class chance, if you lose the fight, of talking your man to death...Read more of this...

by Paterson, Andrew Barton

Next day for his freak 
By a Narrabri Beak, 
He was jawed with a deal of verbosity; 
For his only appeal 
Was "professional zeal" -- 
He wanted another monstrosity. 

Said his Worship, "Begob! 
You are fined forty bob, 
And six shillin's costs to the clurk!" he says. 
And the Narrabri joy, 
Half bird and half boy. 
Has a "down" on himself and on circuses....Read more of this...

by Lawson, Henry
...When you’ve knocked about the country—been away from home for years; 
When the past, by distance softened, nearly fills your eyes with tears— 
You are haunted oft, wherever or however you may roam, 
By a fancy that you ought to go and see the folks at home. 
You forget the family quarrels—little things that used to jar— 
And you think of how they’ll wo...Read more of this...

by Kipling, Rudyard
As I canter past the Undertaker's Horse.

Neither shies he nor is restive,
But a hideously suggestive
Trot, professional and placid, he affects;
And the cadence of his hoof-beats
To my mind this grim reproof beats: --
"Mend your pace, my friend, I'm coming. Who's the next?"

Ah! stud-bred of ill-omen,
I have watched the strongest go -- men
Of pith and might and muscle -- at your heels,
Down the plantain-bordered highway,
(Heaven send it ne'er be my way!)
In a ...Read more of this...

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