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 Alfred Lord Tennyson
15 Rudyard Kipling
16 William Butler Yeats
17 Tupac Shakur
18 Edward Estlin (E E) Cummings
19 Charles Bukowski
20 Sarojini Naidu
21 Muhammad Ali
22 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
23 Billy Collins
24 Christina Rossetti
25 Sandra Cisneros
26 Alice Walker
27 Carol Ann Duffy
28 Edgar Allan Poe
29 Ogden Nash
30 John Donne
31 Ralph Waldo Emerson
32 Raymond Carver
33 Nikki Giovanni
34 John Keats
35 Lewis Carroll
36 Thomas Hardy
37 Mark Twain
38 Spike Milligan
39 Carl Sandburg
40 Anne Sexton
41 Thunchaththu Ramanujan Ezhuthachan
42 Percy Bysshe Shelley
43 Alexander Pushkin
44 Henry David Thoreau
45 Elizabeth Barrett Browning
46 Roger McGough
47 Sara Teasdale
48 Victor Hugo
49 George (Lord) Byron
50 Wendell Berry

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Famous Short Star Poems

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

Other Short Poem Pages


Poems are below...


Star | Short Famous Poems and Poets

 
by Alice Walker

Before you knew you owned it

 Expect nothing.
Live frugally On surprise.
become a stranger To need of pity Or, if compassion be freely Given out Take only enough Stop short of urge to plead Then purge away the need.
Wish for nothing larger Than your own small heart Or greater than a star; Tame wild disappointment With caress unmoved and cold Make of it a parka For your soul.
Discover the reason why So tiny human midget Exists at all So scared unwise But expect nothing.
Live frugally On surprise.


by Mother Goose

A Star


Higher than a house, higher than a tree.
Oh! whatever can that be?


by Sylvia Plath

Child

 Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.
I want to fill it with color and ducks, The zoo of the new Whose name you meditate -- April snowdrop, Indian pipe, Little Stalk without wrinkle, Pool in which images Should be grand and classical Not this troublous Wringing of hands, this dark Ceiling without a star.


by Pablo Neruda

Tower Of Light

 O tower of light, sad beauty
that magnified necklaces and statues in the sea,
calcareous eye, insignia of the vast waters, cry
of the mourning petrel, tooth of the sea, wife
of the Oceanian wind, O separate rose
from the long stem of the trampled bush
that the depths, converted into archipelago,
O natural star, green diadem,
alone in your lonesome dynasty,
still unattainable, elusive, desolate
like one drop, like one grape, like the sea.


by Emily Dickinson

What Soft -- Cherubic Creatures

 What Soft -- Cherubic Creatures --
These Gentlewomen are --
One would as soon assault a Plush --
Or violate a Star --

Such Dimity Convictions --
A Horror so refined
Of freckled Human Nature --
Of Deity -- ashamed --

It's such a common -- Glory --
A Fisherman's -- Degree --
Redemption -- Brittle Lady --
Be so -- ashamed of Thee --


by Hermann Hesse

Lonesome Night

 You brothers, who are mine,
Poor people, near and far,
Longing for every star,
Dream of relief from pain,
You, stumbling dumb
At night, as pale stars break,
Lift your thin hands for some
Hope, and suffer, and wake,
Poor muddling commonplace,
You sailors who must live
Unstarred by hopelessness,
We share a single face.
Give me my welcome back.


by Robert Frost

Fireflies in the Garden

 Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,
And here on earth come emulating flies,
That though they never equal stars in size,
(And they were never really stars at heart)
Achieve at times a very star-like start.
Only, of course, they can't sustain the part.


by Emily Dickinson

If He dissolve -- then

 If He dissolve -- then --
there is nothing -- more --
Eclipse -- at Midnight --
It was dark -- before --

Sunset -- at Easter --
Blindness -- on the Dawn --
Faint Star of Bethlehem --
Gone down!

Would but some God -- inform Him --
Or it be too late!
Say -- that the pulse just lisps --
The Chariots wait --

Say -- that a little life -- for His --
Is leaking -- red --
His little Spaniel -- tell Him!
Will He heed?


by Robert Frost

Canis Major

 The great Overdog
That heavenly beast
With a star in one eye
Gives a leap in the east.
He dances upright All the way to the west And never once drops On his forefeet to rest.
I'm a poor underdog, But to-night I will bark With the great Overdog That romps through the dark.


by Ralph Waldo Emerson

Loss And Gain

 Virtue runs before the muse
And defies her skill,
She is rapt, and doth refuse
To wait a painter's will.
Star-adoring, occupied, Virtue cannot bend her, Just to please a poet's pride, To parade her splendor.
The bard must be with good intent No more his, but hers, Throw away his pen and paint, Kneel with worshippers.
Then, perchance, a sunny ray From the heaven of fire, His lost tools may over-pay, And better his desire.


by Lisel Mueller

Immortality

 WE must pass like smoke or live within the spirit’s fire;
For we can no more than smoke unto the flame return
If our thought has changed to dream, our will unto desire,
 As smoke we vanish though the fire may burn.
Lights of infinite pity star the grey dusk of our days: Surely here is soul: with it we have eternal breath: In the fire of love we live, or pass by many ways, By unnumbered ways of dream to death.


by Sylvia Plath

Jilted

 My thoughts are crabbed and sallow,
My tears like vinegar,
Or the bitter blinking yellow
Of an acetic star.
Tonight the caustic wind, love, Gossips late and soon, And I wear the wry-faced pucker of The sour lemon moon.
While like an early summer plum, Puny, green, and tart, Droops upon its wizened stem My lean, unripened heart.


by Christina Rossetti

De Profundis

 Oh why is heaven built so far,
 Oh why is earth set so remote?
I cannot reach the nearest star
 That hangs afloat.
I would not care to reach the moon, One round monotonous of change; Yet even she repeats her tune Beyond my range.
I never watch the scatter'd fire Of stars, or sun's far-trailing train, But all my heart is one desire, And all in vain: For I am bound with fleshly bands, Joy, beauty, lie beyond my scope; I strain my heart, I stretch my hands, And catch at hope.


by G K Chesterton

Elegy In A Country Churchyard

 The men that worked for England
They have their graves at home:
And bees and birds of England
About the cross can roam.
But they that fought for England, Following a falling star, Alas, alas for England They have their graves afar.
And they that rule in England, In stately conclave met, Alas, alas for England, They have no graves as yet.


by Andrei Voznesensky

ABUSES AND AWARDS

 A poet can't be in disfavour, 
 he needs no awards, no fame.
A star has no setting whatever, no black nor a golden frame.
A star can't be killed with a stone, or award, or that kind of stuff.
He'll bear the blow of a fawner lamenting he's not big enough.
What matters is music and fervour, not fame, nor abuse, anyway.
World powers are out of favour when poets turn them away.
© Copyright Alec Vagapov's translation


by David Ignatow

For My Daughter

 When I die choose a star
and name it after me
that you may know
I have not abandoned
or forgotten you.
You were such a star to me, following you through birth and childhood, my hand in your hand.
When I die choose a star and name it after me so that I may shine down on you, until you join me in darkness and silence together.


by William Allingham

An Evening

 A sunset's mounded cloud; 
A diamond evening-star; 
Sad blue hills afar; 
Love in his shroud.
Scarcely a tear to shed; Hardly a word to say; The end of a summer day; Sweet Love dead.


by Emily Dickinson

I like to see it lap the miles

I like to see it lap the miles,
And lick the valleys up,
And stop to feed itself at tanks;
And then, prodigious, step

Around a pile of mountains,
And, supercilious, peer
In shanties by the sides of roads;
And then a quarry pare

To fit its sides, and crawl between,
Complaining all the while
In horrid, hooting stanza;
Then chase itself down hill

And neigh like Boanerges;
Then, punctual as a star,
Stop--docile and omnipotent--
At its own stable door.


by Kathleen Raine

Paradise Seed

 Where is the seed 
Of the tree felled, 
Of the forest burned, 
Or living root 
Under ash and cinders? 
From woven bud 
What last leaf strives 
Into life, last 
Shrivelled flower?
Is fruit of our harvest,
Our long labour
Dust to the core?
To what far, fair land 
Borne on the wind 
What winged seed 
Or spark of fire 
From holocaust 
To kindle a star?


by Henry David Thoreau

Smoke

 Light-winged Smoke, Icarian bird,
Melting thy pinions in thy upward flight,
Lark without song, and messenger of dawn,
Circling above the hamlets as thy nest;
Or else, departing dream, and shadowy form
Of midnight vision, gathering up thy skirts;
By night star-veiling, and by day
Darkening the light and blotting out the sun;
Go thou my incense upward from this hearth,
And ask the gods to pardon this clear flame.


by John Clare

Evening Primrose

 When once the sun sinks in the west,
And dewdrops pearl the evening's breast;
Almost as pale as moonbeams are,
Or its companionable star,
The evening primrose opes anew
Its delicate blossoms to the dew;
And, hermit-like, shunning the light,
Wastes its fair bloom upon the night,
Who, blindfold to its fond caresses,
Knows not the beauty it possesses;
Thus it blooms on while night is by;
When day looks out with open eye,
Bashed at the gaze it cannot shun,
It faints and withers and is gone.


by William Butler Yeats

A Nativity

 What woman hugs her infant there?
Another star has shot an ear.
What made the drapery glisten so? Not a man but Delacroix.
What made the ceiling waterproof? Landor's tarpaulin on the roof What brushes fly and moth aside? Irving and his plume of pride.
What hurries out the knaye and dolt? Talma and his thunderbolt.
Why is the woman terror-struck? Can there be mercy in that look?


by W S Merwin

For the Anniversary of My Death

Every year without knowing it I have passed the day
When the last fires will wave to me
And the silence will set out
Tireless traveler
Like the beam of a lightless star
Then I will no longer
Find myself in life as in a strange garment
Surprised at the earth
And the love of one woman
And then shamelessness of men
As today writing after three days of rain
Hearing the wren sing and the falling cease
And bowing not knowing to what


by Thomas Moore

Echo

 How sweet the answer Echo makes 
To music at night, 
When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes, 
And far away, o'er lawns and lakes, 
Goes answering light.
Yet Love hath echoes truer far, And far more sweet, Than e'er beneath the moonlight's star, Of horn or lute, or soft guitar, The songs repeat.
'Tis when the sigh, in youth sincere, And only then -- The sigh that's breathed for one to hear, Is by that one, that only dear, Breathed back again!


by Gerard Manley Hopkins

Moonless darkness stands between

 Moonless darkness stands between.
Past, the Past, no more be seen! But the Bethlehem-star may lead me To the sight of Him Who freed me From the self that I have been.
Make me pure, Lord: Thou art holy; Make me meek, Lord: Thou wert lowly; Now beginning, and alway: Now begin, on Christmas day.