Famous Show Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Show poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous show poems. These examples illustrate what a famous show poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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by
Emily Dickinson
The Show is not the Show
But they that go --
Menagerie to me
My Neighbor be --
Fair Play --
Both went to see --...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Wert Thou but ill -- that I might show thee
How long a Day I could endure
Though thine attention stop not on me
Nor the least signal, Me assure --
Wert Thou but Stranger in ungracious country --
And Mine -- the Door
Thou paused at, for a passing bounty --
No More --
Accused -- wert Thou -- and Myself -- Tribunal --
Convicted -- Sentenced...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
O God! be pitiful to my poor imprisoned heart; show
pity to my bosom, susceptible to so much sorrow; pardon
my feet which lead me to the tavern; pardon my hand
which seizes the cup!...Read more of this...
by
William Topaz McGonagall
'Twas on the heights of Alma the battle began.
But the Russians turned and fled every man;
Because Sir Colin Campbell's Highland Brigade put them to flight,
At the charge of the bayonet, which soon ended the fight.
Sir Colin Campbell he did loudly cry,
Let the Highlanders go forward, they will win or die,
We'll hae nane but Hieland bonnets here,
So forward, my...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Kindness to friends and foes 'tis well to show,
No kindly heart can prove unkind, I trow:
Harshness will alienate a bosom friend,
And kindness reconcile a deadly foe....Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
O heart! this world is but a fleeting show,
Why should its empty griefs distress thee so?
Bow down, and bear thy fate, the eternal pen
Will not unwrite its roll for thee, I trow!...Read more of this...
by
Sir Philip Sidney
Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,
That She, dear She, might take some pleasure of my pain,
—Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know,
Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain—
I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe,
Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertain,
Oft turning others' leaves, to see...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Come show thy Durham Breast
To her who loves thee best,
Delicious Robin --
And if it be not me
At least within my Tree
Do the avowing --
Thy Nuptial so minute
Perhaps is more astute
Than vaster suing --
For so to soar away
Is our propensity
The Day ensuing --...Read more of this...
by
Siegfried Sassoon
And still they come and go: and this is all I know—
That from the gloom I watch an endless picture-show,
Where wild or listless faces flicker on their way,
With glad or grievous hearts I’ll never understand
Because Time spins so fast, and they’ve no time to stay
Beyond the moment’s gesture of a lifted hand.
And still, between...Read more of this...
by
John Donne
Show me, dear Christ, thy Spouse, so bright and clear.
What! is it She, which on the other shore
Goes richly painted? or which, robbed and tore,
Laments and mourns in Germany and here?
Sleeps she a thousand, then peeps up one year?
Is she self-truth and errs? now new, now outwore?
Doth she, and did she, and shall she evermore
On one, on seven, or...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
These hypocrites who build on saintly show,
Treating the body as the spirit's foe,
If they will shut their mouths with lime, like jars,
My jar of grape-juice I will then forego....Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
The Love a Life can show Below
Is but a filament, I know,
Of that diviner thing
That faints upon the face of Noon --
And smites the Tinder in the Sun --
And hinders Gabriel's Wing --
'Tis this -- in Music -- hints and sways --
And far abroad on Summer days --
Distils uncertain pain --
'Tis this enamors in the East --
And tints the...Read more of this...
by
Wilfred Owen
My soul looked down from a vague height with Death,
As unremembering how I rose or why,
And saw a sad land, weak with sweats of dearth,
Gray, cratered like the moon with hollow woe,
And fitted with great pocks and scabs of plaques.
Across its beard, that horror of harsh wire,
There moved thin caterpillars, slowly uncoiled.
It seemed they pushed themselves to be as...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Some one prepared this mighty show
To which without a Ticket go
The nations and the Days --
Displayed before the simplest Door
That all may witness it and more,
The pomp of summer Days....Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
I drown in sin—show me Thy clemency!
My soul is dark—make me Thy light to see!
A heaven that must be earned by painful works,
I call a wage, not a gift fair and free....Read more of this...
by
Rudyard Kipling
Cold is for the mistress -- silver for the maid --
Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade."
"Good!" said the Baron, sitting in his hall,
"But Iron -- Cold Iron -- is master of them all."
So he made rebellion 'gainst the King his liege,
Camped before his citadel and summoned it to siege.
"Nay!" said the cannoneer on the castle wall,
"But Iron...Read more of this...
by
William Shakespeare
Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;
These vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
And of this book, this learning mayst thou taste.
The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show
Of mouthèd graves will give thee memory,
Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know
Time's thievish progress to eternity.
Look what thy memory cannot contain,
Commit...Read more of this...
by
T Wignesan
for Eric Mottram
"Nur wenn das Herz erschlossen,
Dann ist die Erde schön."
Goethe.
I
An important thing in living
Is to know when to go;
He who does not know this
Has not far to go,
Though death may come and go
When you do not know.
Come, give me your hand,
Together shoulder and cheek to shoulder
We'll go, sour kana in cheeks
And in the mornings cherry sticks
To gum: the infectious...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
If this world's things were only based on show, oh!
then each day would be a feast. Oh! were it not for
these vain threats, each could attain below the aim of his
desires, without a fear.
377...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
O rose! all beauties' charms thou dost excel,
As wine excels the pearl within its shell;
O fortune! thou dost ever show thyself
More strange, although I seem to know thee well!...Read more of this...
by
Yehuda Amichai
You mustn't show weakness
and you've got to have a tan.
But sometimes I feel like the thin veils
of Jewish women who faint
at weddings and on Yom Kippur.
You mustn't show weakness
and you've got to make a list
of all the things you can load
in a baby carriage without a baby.
This is the way things stand now:
if I pull out the stopper
after pampering...Read more of this...
by
Charles Bukowski
I can't have it
and you can't have it
and we won't
get it
so don't bet on it
or even think about
it
just get out of bed
each morning
wash
shave
clothe
yourself
and go out into
it
because
outside of that
all that's left is
suicide and
madness
so you just
can't
expect too much
you can't even
expect
so what you do
is
work from a modest
minimal
base
like when you
walk outside
be glad your car
might possibly
be there
and if it is-
that the tires
aren't
flat
then you get
in
and...Read more of this...
by
Robert Herrick
Love, like a gipsy, lately came,
And did me much importune
To see my hand, that by the same
He might foretell my fortune.
He saw my palm; and then, said he,
I tell thee, by this score here,
That thou, within few months, shalt be
The youthful Prince D'Amour here.
I smiled, and bade him once more prove,
And by some cross-line show it,
That I could ne'er...Read more of this...
by
Stephen Vincent Benet
The last pose flickered, failed. The screen's dead white
Glared in a sudden flooding of harsh light
Stabbing the eyes; and as I stumbled out
The curtain rose. A fat girl with a pout
And legs like hams, began to sing "His Mother".
Gusts of bad air rose in a choking smother;
Smoke, the wet steam of clothes, the...Read more of this...
by
Charles Bukowski
they talk down through
the centuries to us,
and this we need more and more,
the statues and paintings
in midnight age
as we go along
holding dead hands.
and we would say
rather than delude the knowing:
a damn good show,
but hardly enough for a horse to eat,
and out on the sunshine street where
eyes are dabbled in metazoan faces
i decide again
that in theses centuries
they have done very...Read more of this...
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