Famous Property Poems by Famous Poets

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

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I am afraid to own a Body --

by Emily Dickinson
 I am afraid to own a Body --
I am afraid to own a Soul --
Profound -- precarious Property --
Possession, not optional --

Double Estate -- entailed at pleasure
Upon an unsuspecting Heir --
Duke in a moment of Deathlessness
And God, for a Frontier....Read more of this...

If You are a Man

by D. H. Lawrence
 If you are a man, and believe in the destiny of mankind
then say to yourself: we will cease to care
about property and money and mechanical devices,
and open our consciousness to the deep, mysterious life
that we are now cut off from.

The machine shall be abolished from the earth again;
it is a mistake that mankind has made;
money shall cease to be,...Read more of this...

The Baldness Of Chewed-Ear

by Robert William Service
 When Chewed-ear Jenkins got hitched up to Guinneyveer McGee,
His flowin' locks, ye recollect, wuz frivolous an' free;
But in old Hymen's jack-pot, it's a most amazin' thing,
Them flowin' locks jest disappeared like snow-balls in the Spring;
Jest seemed to wilt an' fade away like dead leaves in the Fall,
An' left old Chewed-ear balder than a white-washed cannon ball.

Now Missis Chewed-ear Jenkins,...Read more of this...

Elliott Hawkins

by Edgar Lee Masters
 I looked like Abraham Lincoln.
I was one of you, Spoon River, in all fellowship,
But standing for the rights of property and for order.
A regular church attendant,
Sometimes appearing in your town meetings to warn you
Against the evils of discontent and envy,
And to denounce those who tried to destroy the Union,
And to point to the peril of the Knights of Labor.
My...Read more of this...

Alone and in a Circumstance

by Emily Dickinson
 Alone and in a Circumstance
Reluctant to be told
A spider on my reticence
Assiduously crawled

And so much more at Home than I
Immediately grew
I felt myself a visitor
And hurriedly withdrew

Revisiting my late abode
With articles of claim
I found it quietly assumed
As a Gymnasium
Where Tax asleep and Title off
The inmates of the Air
Perpetual presumption took
As each were special Heir --
If any strike me on...Read more of this...

Says

by Walt Whitman
 1
I SAY whatever tastes sweet to the most perfect person, that is finally right. 
2
I say nourish a great intellect, a great brain; 
If I have said anything to the contrary, I hereby retract it. 

3
I say man shall not hold property in man; 
I say the least developed person on earth is just as important and sacred to...Read more of this...

Commandeering

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 Our hero was a Tommy with a conscience free from care, 
And such an open countenance that when he breathed the air 
He mopped up all the atmosphere -- so little went to spare 
You could hardly say he breathed, he "commandeered" it. 
For nowadays you'll notice when a man is "on the make", 
And other people's property is...Read more of this...

Property

by Robert William Service
 The red-roofed house of dream design
 Looks three ways on the sea;
For fifty years I've made it mine,
 And held it part of me.
The pines I planted in my youth
 Triumpantly are tall . . .
Yet now I know with sorry sooth
 I have to leave it all.

Hard-hewn from out the living rock
 And salty from the tide,
My house...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...

Gilhooleys Estate

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 Oh, Mr Gilhooley he turned up his toes, 
As most of you know, soon or late; 
And Jones was a lawyer, as everyone knows, 
So they took him to Gilhooley's Estate. 
Gilhooley in life had been living so free 
'Twas thought his possessions were great, 
So Jones, with a smile, says, "There's many a fee 
For me in Gilhooley's...Read more of this...

Momma Welfare Roll

by Maya Angelou
 Her arms semaphore fat triangles,
Pudgy HANDS bunched on layered hips
Where bones idle under years of fatback
And lima beans.

Her jowls shiver in accusation
Of crimes cliched by Repetition. 
Her children, strangers
To childhood's TOYS, play
Best the games of darkened doorways,
Rooftop tag, and know the slick feel of
Other people's property.

Too fat to whore,
Too mad to work,
Searches her dreams for the
Lucky sign and walks...Read more of this...

Tom Beatty

by Edgar Lee Masters
 I was a lawyer like Harmon Whitney
Or Kinsey Keene or Garrison Standard,
For I tried the rights of property,
Although by lamp-light, for thirty years,
In that poker room in the opera house.
And I say to you that Life's a gambler
Head and shoulders above us all.
No mayor alive can close the house.
And if you lose, you can squeal as you will;
You'll not...Read more of this...

Incendiary

by Vernon Scannell
 That one small boy with a face like pallid cheese 
And burnt-out little eyes could make a blaze 
As brazen, fierce and huge, as red and gold 
And zany yellow as the one that spoiled 
Three thousand guineas' worth of property 
And crops at Godwin's Farm on Saturday 
Is frightening---as fact and metaphor: 
An ordinary match intended for 
The...Read more of this...

Snow

by David Berman
 Walking through a field with my little brother Seth

I pointed to a place where kids had made angels in the snow.
For some reason, I told him that a troop of angels
had been shot and dissolved when they hit the ground.

He asked who had shot them and I said a farmer.


Then we were on the roof of the lake.
The ice...Read more of this...

My Only Property

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 I FEEL that I'm possess'd of nought,
Saving the free unfetterd thought

Which from my bosom seeks to flow,
And each propitious passing hour
That suffers me in all its power

A loving fate with truth to know.

 1814....Read more of this...

Letter In November

by Sylvia Plath
 Love, the world
Suddenly turns, turns color. The streetlight
Splits through the rat's tail
Pods of the laburnum at nine in the morning.
It is the Arctic,

This little black
Circle, with its tawn silk grasses - babies hair.
There is a green in the air,
Soft, delectable.
It cushions me lovingly.

I am flushed and warm.
I think I may be enormous,
I am so stupidly happy,
My Wellingtons
Squelching and squelching...Read more of this...

Turns And Movies: Duvals Birds

by Conrad Aiken
 The parrot, screeching, flew out into the darkness, 
Circled three times above the upturned faces 
With a great whir of brilliant outspread wings, 
And then returned to stagger on her finger. 
She bowed and smiled, eliciting applause. . . 
The property man hated her dirty birds. 
But it had taken years—yes, years—to train them, 
To shoulder flags, strike bells...Read more of this...

Compensation Pete

by Robert William Service
 He used to say: There ain't a doubt
Misfortune is a bitter pill,
But if you only pry it out
You'll find there's good in every ill.
There's comfort in the worst of woe,
There's consolation in defeat . . .
Oh what a solace-seeker! So
We called him Compensation Pete.

He lost his wealth - but was he pipped?
Why no - "That's fine," he used to...Read more of this...

Four Quartets 1: Burnt Norton

by T S (Thomas Stearns) Eliot
 I

Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage...Read more of this...

The Blinded Bourbons

by Victor Hugo
 ("Qui leur eût dit l'austère destineé?") 
 
 {II. v., November, 1836.} 


 Who then, to them{1} had told the Future's story? 
 Or said that France, low bowed before their glory, 
 One day would mindful be 
 Of them and of their mournful fate no more, 
 Than of the wrecks its waters have swept o'er 
...Read more of this...

144. A Winter Night

by Robert Burns
 WHEN biting Boreas, fell and dour,
Sharp shivers thro’ the leafless bow’r;
When Phoebus gies a short-liv’d glow’r,
 Far south the lift,
Dim-dark’ning thro’ the flaky show’r,
 Or whirling drift:


Ae night the storm the steeples rocked,
Poor Labour sweet in sleep was locked,
While burns, wi’ snawy wreaths up-choked,
 Wild-eddying swirl;
Or, thro’ the mining outlet bocked,
 Down headlong hurl:


List’ning the doors an’ winnocks rattle,
I...Read more of this...

Womens Suffrage

by William Topaz McGonagall
 Fellow men! why should the lords try to despise
And prohibit women from having the benefit of the parliamentary Franchise?
When they pay the same taxes as you and me,
I consider they ought to have the same liberty. 

And I consider if they are not allowed the same liberty,
From taxation every one of them should be set free;
And if they are...Read more of this...

Over The Alley

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 Here in my office I sit and write
Hour on hour, and day on day, 
With no one to speak to from morn till night, 
Though I have a neighbour just over the way.
Across the alley that yawns between
A maiden sits sewing the whole day long; 
A face more lovely is seldom seen
In hall or castle or country throng.

Her curling...Read more of this...

Often I Am Permitted to Return to a Meadow

by Robert Duncan
 as if it were a scene made-up by the mind, 
that is not mine, but is a made place,

that is mine, it is so near to the heart, 
an eternal pasture folded in all thought 
so that there is a hall therein

that is a made place, created by light 
wherefrom the shadows that are forms fall.

Wherefrom fall all architectures...Read more of this...

Manuelzinho

by Elizabeth Bishop
 Half squatter, half tenant (no rent)—
a sort of inheritance; white,
in your thirties now, and supposed
to supply me with vegetables,
but you don't; or you won't; or you can't
get the idea through your brain—
the world's worst gardener since Cain.
Titled above me, your gardens
ravish my eyes. You edge
the beds of silver cabbages
with red carnations, and lettuces
mix with alyssum. And then
umbrella ants arrive,
or...Read more of this...

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