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Famous Shack Poems by Famous Poets

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

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by Bukowski, Charles
...with an Apple Macintosh
you can't run Radio Shack programs
in its disc drive.
nor can a Commodore 64
drive read a file
you have created on an
IBM Personal Computer.
both Kaypro and Osborne computers use
the CP/M operating system
but can't read each other's
for they format (write
on) discs in different
the Tandy 2000 runs MS-DOS but
can't use most programs produced for
the...Read More

by Wright, James
...Near the dry river's water-mark we found
 Your brother Minnegan,
Flopped like a fish against the muddy ground.
Beany, the kid whose yellow hair turns green,
Told me to find you, even if the rain,
 And tell you he was drowned.

I hid behind the chassis on the bank,
 The wreck of someone's Ford:
I was afraid to come and wake you drunk:
You told me on...Read More

by Service, Robert William
...are dim,
While mine laugh out in glee,
And though I ought to envy him,
I think he envies me.

He has a chateau, I a shack,
And humble I should be
To see his stately Cadillac
Beside my jalopy.
With chain of gold his belly's girt,
His beard is barber trim;
Yet bristle-chinned with ragged shirt,
I do not envy Jim.

My brother is a man of weight;
For every civic plum
He grabs within one pie of state,
While I am just a bum.
Last Winter he was near to croak
With gas...Read More

by Service, Robert William
...I have heaps of rugged health,
 And life seems mighty good.
So when my class-mates come to spend
 A week-end in my shack,
With lake and wood at journey's end
 --They envy Jack....Read More

by Ginsberg, Allen
...railroad yard in San Jose 
 I wandered desolate 
in front of a tank factory 
 and sat on a bench 
near the switchman's shack. 

A flower lay on the hay on 
 the asphalt highway 
--the dread hay flower 
 I thought--It had a 
brittle black stem and 
 corolla of yellowish dirty 
spikes like Jesus' inchlong 
 crown, and a soiled 
dry center cotton tuft 
 like a used shaving brush 
that's been lying under 
 the garage for a year. 

Yellow, yellow flower, and 
 flower of i...Read More

by Ginsberg, Allen
...ailroad yard in San Jose 
I wandered desolate 
in front of a tank factory 
and sat on a bench 
near the switchman's shack. 

A flower lay on the hay on 
the asphalt highway 
--the dread hay flower 
I thought--It had a 
brittle black stem and 
corolla of yellowish dirty 
spikes like Jesus' inchlong 
crown, and a soiled 
dry center cotton tuft 
like a used shaving brush 
that's been lying under 
the garage for a year. 

Yellow, yellow flower, and 
fl...Read More

by Masters, Edgar Lee
...h's center making mountains,
Or pent up waters that cut them through.
Do you remember the iron band
The blacksmith, Shack Dye, welded
Around the oak on Bennet's lawn,
From which to swing a hammock,
That daughter Janet might repose in, reading
On summer afternoons?
And that the growing tree at last
Sundered the iron band?
But not a cell in all the tree
Knew aught save that it thrilled with life,
Nor cared because the hammock fell
In the dust with Milton's poems....Read More

by Service, Robert William
..."You should hear her sing;
They've got the cabin next to mine, an like a bird in Spring,
She fills that tumble-down old shack wi' simple melodee."
"Maybe she sing a song for us," said Montreal Maree. 

Now I don't hold wi' mushy stuff, tear-jerkin' ain't my line,
Yet somehow that kid's singin' sent the shivers down my spine;
An' all them salted sourdoughs sighed, an' every eye was dim
For what she sang upon the bar was just a simple hymn;
Somethin' about "Abide with m...Read More

by Service, Robert William
...I never killed a bear because
I always thought them critters was
 So kindo' cute;
Though round my shack they often came,
I'd raise my rifle and take aim,
 But couldn't shoot.
Yet there was one full six-feet tall
Who came each night and gobbled all
 The grub in sight;
On my pet garden truck he'd feast,
Until I thought I must at least
 Give him a fight.

I put some corn mush in a pan;
He lapped it swiftly down and ran
 With bruin glee;
A second day...Read More

by Brautigan, Richard
...bably had looked a lot better to George

than the wild side of the Santa Lucia Mountains.

 My friend's place was a shack right beside a huge fire-

place where there had once been a great mansion during the

1920s, built by a famous movie actor. The mansion was built

before there was even a road down at Big Sur. The mansion

had been brought over the mountains on the backs of mules,

strung out like ants, bringing visions of the good life to the

poison oak, the...Read More

by Brautigan, Richard
...half-assed pioneer in a country

that not many wanted to live in because it was poor and ugly

and horrible, He built a shack, this was in 1876, on a little

creek that drained a worthless hill. After a while the creek

was called Hayman Creek.

 Mr. Hayman did not know how to read or write and considered

himself better for it. Mr. Hayman did odd jobs for years

and years and years and years.

 Your mule's broke?

 Get Mr. Hayman to fix it.

 ...Read More

by Estep, Maggie
You ain't ****
You suck
I hate you
but I love you
I love you because I hate you
Can I have your children?
Will you shack up with me?

Oh sure
I'll shack up with you
I love stalkers
Especially when they hate me
But you knew that 
That's why you stalk me
You're not fooled by my clever ruse
***** goddess? I think not
I'm just a sucker for punishment
So punish me
Spank me
Dominate my sock drawer 
And stalk me

Don't stalk Jodie Foster, David Letterman or John S. Hall
D...Read More

by Service, Robert William
I fain would have you know him for the Nimrod that he was.

Now Skipper Grey and Deacon White were sitting in the shack,
And sampling of the whisky that pertained to Sheriff Black.
Said Skipper Grey: "I want to say a word about this Brown:
The piker's sticking out his chest as if he owned the town."
Said Sheriff Black: "he has no lack of frigorated cheek;
He called himself a Sourdough when he'd just been here a week."
Said Deacon White: "Methinks you're righ...Read More

by Sexton, Anne suddenly inadequate stain

of lightning belling around
our skin. Bodies in air
we raced for the empty lobsterman-shack.
It was yellow inside, the sound
of the underwing of the sun. I swear,
I most solemnly swear, on all the bric-a-brac

of summer loves, I know
you not....Read More

by Frost, Robert
...nough it looks
Ever to grind to soil for grass.
(The way it is will do for moss.)
There he had built his stolen shack.
It had to be a stolen shack
Because of the fears of fire and logs
That trouble the sleep of lumber folk:
Visions of half the world burned black
And the sun shrunken yellow in smoke.
We know who when they come to town
Bring berries under the wagon seat,
Or a basket of eggs between their feet;
What this man brought in a cotton sack
Was gum, the ...Read More

by Bukowski, Charles
When we awakened we drove back to my place and I cooked a dinner. After dinner I suggested
to Cass that we shack together. She waited a long time, looking at me, then she slowly
said, "No." I drove her back to the bar, bought her a drink and walked out. I
found a job as a parker in a factory the next day and the rest of the week went to
working. I was too tired to get about much but that Friday night I did get to the West End
Bar. I sat and wa...Read More

by Service, Robert William
...This is the song of the parson's son, as he squats in his shack alone,
On the wild, weird nights, when the Northern Lights shoot up from the frozen zone,
And it's sixty below, and couched in the snow the hungry huskies moan:

"I'm one of the Arctic brotherhood, I'm an old-time pioneer.
I came with the first -- O God! how I've cursed this Yukon -- but still I'm here.
I've sweated athirst in its summer heat, ...Read More

by Pushkin, Alexander
...bless his hovel,
Death - nothing other - did he crave.

So once, upon a falling night, he
Was bowing by his wilted shack
With meekest prayer to the Almighty.
The grove was turning slowly black;
Above the lake a mist was lifting;
Through milky clouds across the sky
The ruddy moon was softly drifting,
When water drew the friar's eye...

He's looking puzzled, full of trouble,
Of fear he cannot quite explain,
He sees the waves begin to bubble
And suddenly gro...Read More

by Brautigan, Richard>


Seventeen years later I sat down on a rock. It was under a

tree next to an old abandoned shack that had a sheriff's

notice nailed like a funeral wreath to the front door.


 4/17 OF A HAIKU

 Many rivers had flowed past those seventeen years, and

thousands of trout, and now beside the highway and the sheriff's

notice flowed yet another river, the Klamath, and I was

trying to get thirty-five miles downstream to Ste...Read More

by Edson, Russell
...the arch called youth.
 Soon, down the road, where one almost misses the life 
lived beyond the flower, is a small shack labeled, you.
 And it is here the future lives in the several postures of 
arm on windowsill, cheek on this; elbows on knees, face in 
the hands; sometimes the head thrown back, eyes staring into 
the ceiling . . . This into nothing down the long day's arc . . ....Read More

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