Famous Short Nice Poems
Famous Short Nice Poems. Short Nice Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Nice short poems
by
Shel Silverstein
Birds are flyin' south for winter.
Here's the Weird-Bird headin' north,
Wings a-flappin', beak a-chatterin',
Cold head bobbin' back 'n' forth.
He says, "It's not that I like ice
Or freezin' winds and snowy ground.
It's just sometimes it's kind of nice
To be the only bird in town.
"
by
Mother Goose
What are little boys made of, made of?
What are little boys made of?
"Snaps and snails, and puppy-dogs' tails;
And that's what little boys are made of.
"
What are little girls made of, made of?
What are little girls made of?
"Sugar and spice, and all that's nice;
And that's what little girls are made of.
"
by
Robert Louis Stevenson
It is very nice to think
The world is full of meat and drink,
With little children saying grace
In every Christian kind of place.
by
Anne Sexton
You are the roast beef I have purchased
and I stuff you with my very own onion.
You are a boat I have rented by the hour
and I steer you with my rage until you run aground.
You are a glass that I have paid to shatter
and I swallow the pieces down with my spit.
You are the grate I warm my trembling hands on,
searing the flesh until it's nice and juicy.
You stink like my Mama under your bra
and I vomit into your hand like a jackpot
its cold hard quarters.
by
Edward Lear
A
was an ant
Who seldom stood still,
And who made a nice house
In the side of a hill.
a
Nice little ant!
by
Edward Lear
J
was a jug,
So pretty and white,
With fresh water in it
At morning and night.
j!
Nice little jug!
by
Carolyn Kizer
No-one explains me because
There is nothing to explain.
It's all right here
Very clear.
O for my reputations sake
To be difficult and opaque!
No-one explains me because
Though myopic, I see plain.
I just put it down
With a leer and a frown.
.
.
Why does it make you sweat?
Is this the thanks I get?
No-one explains me because
There are tears in my bawdy song.
Once I am dead
Something will be said.
How nice I won't be here
To see how they get it wrong.
by
Marge Piercy
We sat across the table.
he said, cut off your hands.
they are always poking at things.
they might touch me.
I said yes.
Food grew cold on the table.
he said, burn your body.
it is not clean and smells like sex.
it rubs my mind sore.
I said yes.
I love you, I said.
That's very nice, he said
I like to be loved,
that makes me happy.
Have you cut off your hands yet?
by
Edward Lear
A
a
Pidy, Widy, Tidy, Pidy, Nice insidy, Apple-pie!
by
Edward Lear
B
was a book
With a binding of blue,
And pictures and stories
For me and for you.
b
Nice little book!
by
Richard Brautigan
It's so nice
to wake up in the morning
all alone
and not have to tell somebody
you love them
when you don't love them
any more.
by
Edward Lear
There was an old man of Dumbree,
Who taught little owls to drink tea;
For he said, "To eat mice is not proper or nice,"
That amiable man of Dumbree.
by
Dorothy Parker
They say of me, and so they should,
It's doubtful if I come to good.
I see acquaintances and friends
Accumulating dividends,
And making enviable names
In science, art, and parlor games.
But I, despite expert advice,
Keep doing things I think are nice,
And though to good I never come-
Inseparable my nose and thumb!
by
Vachel Lindsay
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Sat gossiping with Robert.
(She was really a raving beauty in her day.
With Mary Pickford curls in clouds and whirls.
)
She was trying to think of something nice to say,
So she pointed to a page by her fellow star and sage,
And said: "I wish that I could write that way!"
by
Edward Lear
F
was a fan
Made of beautiful stuff;
And when it was used,
It went puffy-puff-puff! f!
Nice little fan.
by
Edward Lear
There was an old person of Nice,
Whose associates were usually Geese.
They walked out together, in all sorts of weather.
That affable person of Nice!
by
Edward Lear
L
was a lily,
So white and so sweet!
To see it and smell it
Was quite a nice treat.
l!
Beautiful Lily!
by
Delmore Schwartz
Yeats died Saturday in France.
Freedom from his animal
Has come at last in alien Nice,
His heart beat separate from his will:
He knows at last the old abyss
Which always faced his staring face.
No ability, no dignity
Can fail him now who trained so long
For the outrage of eternity,
Teaching his heart to beat a song
In which man's strict humanity,
Erect as a soldier, became a tongue.
by
Edward Lear
I
was some ice
So white and so nice,
But which nobody tasted;
And so it was wasted.
i
All that good ice!
by
Edward Lear
L
was a light
Which burned all the night,
And lighted the gloom
Of a very dark room.
l
Useful nice light!
by
Emily Dickinson
Over the fence --
Strawberries -- grow --
Over the fence --
I could climb -- if I tried, I know --
Berries are nice!
But -- if I stained my Apron --
God would certainly scold!
Oh, dear, -- I guess if He were a Boy --
He'd -- climb -- if He could!
by
Emily Dickinson
A Sparrow took a Slice of Twig
And thought it very nice
I think, because his empty Plate
Was handed Nature twice --
Invigorated, waded
In all the deepest Sky
Until his little Figure
Was forfeited away --
by
Edward Lear
I
was an inkstand,
Which stood on a table,
With a nice pen to write with
When we are able.
i!
Neat little inkstand!
by
Edward Lear
There was an Old Person of Ewell,
Who chiefly subsisted on gruel;
But to make it more nice, he inserted some Mice,
Which refreshed that Old Person of Ewell.
by
James Henry Leigh Hunt
We, the Fairies, blithe and antic,
Of dimensions not gigantic,
Though the moonshine mostly keep us,
Oft in orchards frisk and peep us.
Stolen sweets are always sweeter,
Stolen kisses much completer,
Stolen looks are nice in chapels,
Stolen, stolen, be your apples.
When to bed the world are bobbing,
Then's the time for orchard-robbing;
Yet the fruit were scarce worth peeling,
Were it not for stealing, stealing.