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Famous Scrambled Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry
...rned and broken, and something was brought 
to land
By a twist and flirt of a shadowy rod in a deft and shadowy hand.
I scrambled down to the brookside and hunted all 
about;
There wasn't a sign of a fisherman; there wasn't a sign of a trout.
But I heard somebody chuckle behind the hollow oak
And I got a whiff of tobacco like Lilly used to smoke.
It's fifteen years, they tell me, since anyone 
fished that brook;
And there's nothing in it but minnows that nibble the bait off y...Read more of this...
by Kilmer, Joyce



...police boats instantly made for the fatal spot,
And with the aid of dockyard hands several people were got,
While some scrambled out themselves, the best way they could--
And the most of them were the inhabitants of the neighborhood. 

Part of them were the wives and daughters of the dockyard hands,
And as they gazed upon them they in amazement stands;
And several bodies were hauled up quite dead.
Which filled the onlookers' hearts with pity and dread. 

One of the first res...Read more of this...
by McGonagall, William Topaz
...in is a waxen, show-case SHAM.

 Such was the yarn he handed me,
 Down there in Casey's Bar,
 That Rooshun bug with the scrambled mug
 From the land of the Commissar.
 It may be true, I leave it you
 To figger out how far....Read more of this...
by Service, Robert William
...e mostly mortal, yet he fiercely gazed around; 
There was no one to oppose him -- all the rest were in a trance, 
So he scrambled on his pony for his last expiring chance, 
For he meant to make an effort to get victory to his side; 
So he struck at goal -- and missed it -- then he tumbled off and died. 

. . . . . 

By the old Campaspe River, where the breezes shake the grass, 
There's a row of little gravestones that the stockmen never pass, 
For they bear a crude inscriptio...Read more of this...
by Paterson, Andrew Barton
...reckon lak ez not
Dat it would ef Tom's wife, Mandy, had n't happened on de spot,
To invite us out to suppah—well, we scrambled to de table,
An' I 'd lak to tell you 'bout it—what we had—but I ain't able,
Mention jes' a few things, dough I know I had n't orter,
Fu' I know 't will staht a hank'rin' an' yo' mouf 'll 'mence to worter.
We had wheat bread white ez cotton an' a egg pone jes like gol',
Hog jole, bilin' hot an' steamin' roasted shoat an' ham sliced cold—
Look...Read more of this...
by Laurence Dunbar, Paul



...s were old burnt matches,
Their legs were old burnt matches,
Their arms were just the same.
They jigged and whirled and scrambled,
Jigged and whirled and scrambled,
Jigged and whirled and scrambled,
In honor of the dame,
The noble Irish lady
Who makes potatoes dance,
The witty Irish lady,
The saucy Irish lady,
The laughing Irish lady
Who makes potatoes prance.


III

"There was just one sweet potato.
He was golden brown and slim.
The lady loved his dancing,
The lady loved his...Read more of this...
by Lindsay, Vachel
...off the porch and hit the water the same water it was in 
I felt in blue blazing terror at the bottom of the stairs and scrambled 
Back up looking desperately into the human house as deeply as I could 
Stopping my gaze before it went out the wire screen of the back door 
Stopped it on the thistled rattan the rugs I lay on and read 
On my mother's sewing basket with next winter's socks spilling from it 
The flimsy vacation furniture a bucktoothed picture of myself. 
Payton cam...Read more of this...
by Dickey, James
...his simple tales, 
Midst the grimmer Yorkshire legends 
And the mountain myths of Wales. 

How the souls in Purgatory 
Scrambled up from fate forlorn 
On St. Keven's sackcloth ladder 
Slyly hitched to Satan's horn. 

Of the fiddler who at Tara 
Played all night to ghosts of kings; 
Of the brown dwarfs, and the fairies 
Dancing in their moorland rings! 

Jolliest of our birds of singing 
Best he loved the Bob-o-link. 
"Hush!" he'd say, "the tipsy fairies! 
Hear the little fol...Read more of this...
by Whittier, John Greenleaf

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Book: Reflection on the Important Things