Short Poetry by Popular Famous Poets

 Poet
1 William Wordsworth
2 William Shakespeare
3 Oscar Wilde
4 Emily Dickinson
5 Rabindranath Tagore
6 Maya Angelou
7 Robert Frost
8 Langston Hughes
9 Walt Whitman
10 Shel Silverstein
11 William Blake
12 Pablo Neruda
13 Sylvia Plath
14 Rudyard Kipling
15 William Butler Yeats
16 Alfred Lord Tennyson
17 Tupac Shakur
18 Edward Estlin (E E) Cummings
19 Charles Bukowski
20 Sarojini Naidu
21 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
22 Muhammad Ali
23 Christina Rossetti
24 Billy Collins
25 Alice Walker
26 Sandra Cisneros
27 Carol Ann Duffy
28 Ogden Nash
29 John Donne
30 Edgar Allan Poe
31 Ralph Waldo Emerson
32 Raymond Carver
33 Nikki Giovanni
34 John Keats
35 Lewis Carroll
36 Thomas Hardy
37 Spike Milligan
38 Mark Twain
39 Thunchaththu Ramanujan Ezhuthachan
40 Carl Sandburg
41 Percy Bysshe Shelley
42 Anne Sexton
43 Alexander Pushkin
44 Henry David Thoreau
45 Roger McGough
46 Elizabeth Barrett Browning
47 Sara Teasdale
48 Victor Hugo
49 Wendell Berry
50 George (Lord) Byron

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Famous Short Beach Poems

Famous Short Beach Poems. Short Beach Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Beach short poems

Other Short Poem Pages


Poems are below...


Beach | Short Famous Poems and Poets

 
by Billy Collins

Walking Across The Atlantic

 I wait for the holiday crowd to clear the beach
before stepping onto the first wave.
Soon I am walking across the Atlantic thinking about Spain, checking for whales, waterspouts.
I feel the water holding up my shifting weight.
Tonight I will sleep on its rocking surface.
But for now I try to imagine what this must look like to the fish below, the bottoms of my feet appearing, disappearing.


by Sara Teasdale

I Thought Of You

 I thought of you and how you love this beauty,
And walking up the long beach all alone 
I heard the waves breaking in measured thunder
As you and I once heard their monotone.
Around me were the echoing dunes, beyond me The cold and sparkling silver of the sea -- We two will pass through death and ages lengthen Before you hear that sound again with me.


by Emily Dickinson

My Garden -- like the Beach

 My Garden -- like the Beach --
Denotes there be -- a Sea --
That's Summer --
Such as These -- the Pearls
She fetches -- such as Me


by Lisel Mueller

Night Song

 Among rocks, I am the loose one,
among aarows, I am the heart,
among daughters, I am the recluse,
among sons, the one who dies young.
Among answers, I am the question, between lovers, I am the sword, among scars, I am the fresh wound, among confetti, the black flag.
Among shoes, I am the onw with the pebble, among days, the one that never comes, among the bones you find on the beach the one that sings was mine.


by Walt Whitman

I will Take an Egg Out of the Robin's Nest

 I WILL take an egg out of the robin’s nest in the orchard, 
I will take a branch of gooseberries from the old bush in the garden, and go and preach to
 the
 world; 
You shall see I will not meet a single heretic or scorner, 
You shall see how I stump clergymen, and confound them, 
You shall see me showing a scarlet tomato, and a white pebble from the beach.
5


by James Joyce

On the Beach at Fontana

 Wind whines and whines the shingle,
The crazy pierstakes groan;
A senile sea numbers each single
Slimesilvered stone.
From whining wind and colder Grey sea I wrap him warm And touch his trembling fineboned shoulder And boyish arm.
Around us fear, descending Darkness of fear above And in my heart how deep unending Ache of love!


by Wanda Phipps

Morning Poem #43

 I close my eyes
and there it is
a concrete walkway
leading out of a
small village
hugging the sides
of a green green
tree filled mountainside
and to the right
a pipe railing
paited the color
of oxidized metaland even firther
to my right
a small beach
costline-an ocean
all under a pale blue sky
all there when my eyelids
close and the shutters open


by Carl Sandburg

Fog Portrait

 RINGS of iron gray smoke; a woman’s steel face … looking … looking.
Funnels of an ocean liner negotiating a fog night; pouring a taffy mass down the wind; layers of soot on the top deck; a taffrail … and a woman’s steel face … looking … looking.
Cliffs challenge humped; sudden arcs form on a gull’s wing in the storm’s vortex; miles of white horses plow through a stony beach; stars, clear sky, and everywhere free climbers calling; and a woman’s steel face … looking … looking …


by Robert Graves

The Beach

 Louder than gulls the little children scream 
Whom fathers haul into the jovial foam; 
But others fearlessly rush in, breast high, 
Laughing the salty water from their mouthes-- 
Heroes of the nursery.
The horny boatman, who has seen whales And flying fishes, who has sailed as far As Demerara and the Ivory Coast, Will warn them, when they crowd to hear his tales, That every ocean smells of tar.


by Vachel Lindsay

Euclid

 OLD Euclid drew a circle 
On a sand-beach long ago.
He bounded and enclosed it With angles thus and so.
His set of solemn greybeards Nodded and argued much Of arc and circumference, Diameter and such.
A silent child stood by them From morning until noon Because they drew such charming Round pictures of the moon.


by Louise Bogan

Portrait

 She has no need to fear the fall 
Of harvest from the laddered reach 
Of orchards, nor the tide gone ebbing 
 From the steep beach.
Nor hold to pain's effrontery Her body's bulwark, stern and savage, Nor be a glass, where to forsee Another's ravage.
What she has gathered, and what lost, She will not find to lose again.
She is possessed by time, who once Was loved by men.


by Edna St Vincent Millay

Eel-Grass

 No matter what I say,
All that I really love
Is the rain that flattens on the bay,
And the eel-grass in the cove;
The jingle-shells that lie and bleach
At the tide-line, and the trace
Of higher tides along the beach:
Nothing in this place.


by Carl Sandburg

Sketch

 THE shadows of the ships
Rock on the crest
In the low blue lustre
Of the tardy and the soft inrolling tide.
A long brown bar at the dip of the sky Puts an arm of sand in the span of salt.
The lucid and endless wrinkles Draw in, lapse and withdraw.
Wavelets crumble and white spent bubbles Wash on the floor of the beach.
Rocking on the crest In the low blue lustre Are the shadows of the ships.


by Paul Laurence Dunbar

SILENCE

'T is better to sit here beside the sea,
Here on the spray-kissed beach,
In silence, that between such friends as we
Is full of deepest speech.


by David Herbert Lawrence

The Gods! The Gods!

 People were bathing and posturing themselves on the beach, 
and all was dreary, great robot limbs, robot breasts, 
robot voices, robot even the gay umbrellas.
But a woman, shy and alone, was washing herself under a tap and the glimmer of the presence of the gods was like lilies, and like water-lilies.


by Weldon Kees

La Vita Nuova

 Last summer, in the blue heat,
Over the beach, in the burning air,
A legless beggar lurched on calloused fists
To where I waited with the sun-dazed birds.
He said, "The summer boils away.
My life Joins to another life; this parched skin Dries and dies and flakes away, Becomes your costume when the torn leaves blow.
" --Thus in the losing autumn, Over the streets, I now lurch Legless to your side and speak your name Under a gray sky ripped apart By thunder and the changing wind.


by Jack Spicer

For Mac

 A dead starfish on a beach
He has five branches
Representing the five senses
Representing the jokes we did not tell each other
Call the earth flat
Call other people human 
But let this creature lie
Flat upon our senses
Like a love
Prefigured in the sea
That died.
And went to water All the oceans Of emotion.
All the oceans of emotion are full of such ffish Why Is this dead one of such importance?


by Thomas Edward Brown

Ibant Obscur?

 To-night I saw three maidens on the beach,
Dark-robed descending to the sea,
So slow, so silent of all speech,
And visible to me
Only by that strange drift-light, dim, forlorn,
Of the sun's wreck and clashing surges born.
Each after other went, And they were gathered to his breast-- It seemed to me a sacrament Of some stern creed unblest: As when to rocks, that cheerless girt the bay, They bound thy holy limbs, Andromeda.


by Paul Laurence Dunbar

TO PFRIMMER

(Lines on reading "Driftwood.")
Driftwood gathered here and there
Along the beach of time;
Now and then a chip of truth
'Mid boards and boughs of rhyme;
Driftwood gathered day by day,—
The cypress and the oak,—
Twigs that in some former time
From sturdy home trees broke.
Did this wood come floating thick
All along down "Injin Crik?"
Or did kind tides bring it thee
From the past's receding sea
Down the stream of memory?