Short Poetry by Popular Famous Poets

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

Famous Short Football Poems

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

Other Short Poem Pages

Football | Short Famous Poems and Poets

 
by A E Housman

Twice a Week the Winter Thorough

 Twice a week the winter thorough 
Here stood I to keep the goal: 
Football then was fighting sorrow 
For the young man's soul.
Now in Maytime to the wicket Out I march with bat and pad: See the son of grief at cricket Trying to be glad.
Try I will; no harm in trying: Wonder 'tis how little mirth Keeps the bones of man from lying On the bed of earth.


by Billy Collins

Invention

 Tonight the moon is a cracker,
with a bite out of it
floating in the night,

and in a week or so
according to the calendar
it will probably look

like a silver football,
and nine, maybe ten days ago
it reminded me of a thin bright claw.
But eventually -- by the end of the month, I reckon -- it will waste away to nothing, nothing but stars in the sky, and I will have a few nights to myself, a little time to rest my jittery pen.


by James Wright

Autumn Begins In Martins Ferry Ohio

 In the Shreve High football stadium,
I think of Polacks nursing long beers in Tiltonsville,
And gray faces of Negroes in the blast furnace at Benwood,
And the ruptured night watchman of Wheeling Steel,
Dreaming of heroes.
All the proud fathers are ashamed to go home.
Their women cluck like starved pullets, Dying for love.
Therefore, Their sons grow suicidally beautiful At the beginning of October, And gallop terribly against each other's bodies.