Famous Smokey Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Smokey poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous smokey poems. These examples illustrate what a famous smokey poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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by
Crane, Hart
...Sinuously winding through the room
On smokey tongues of sweetened cigarettes, --
Plaintive yet proud the cello tones resume
The andante of smooth hopes and lost regrets.
Bright peacocks drink from flame-pots by the wall,
Just as absinthe-sipping women shiver through
With shimmering blue from the bowl in Circe's hall.
Their brown eyes blacken, and the blue drop hue.
The andan...Read more of this...
by
Hecht, Anthony
...winter settles down in its chain-mail,
Victorious over legions of gold and red.
......The smokey souls of stones,
......Blunt pencillings of lead,
Pare down the world to glintless monotones
Of graveyard weather, vapors of a fen
.......We reckon through our pores.
.......Save for the garbage men,
Our children are the first ones out of doors.
Book-bagged and p...Read more of this...
by
Bowers, Edgar
...allenge him sometimes
To laughter and applause. Once, in Stone Mountain,
Travelers, stopped for gas, drove off with Smokey;
Angrily, grievingly, leaving his work, my father
Traced the car and found them way far south,
Had them arrested and, bringing Smokey home,
Was proud as Sherlock Holmes, and happier.
Above the spring, my sister’s cats, black Amy,
Grey Junior, down to meet us. The rose trees,
Domestic, Asiatic, my father’s favorites.
The bridge, marauding d...Read more of this...
by
Collins, Billy
...Smokey the Bear heads
into the autumn woods
with a red can of gasoline
and a box of wooden matches.
His ranger's hat is cocked
at a disturbing angle.
His brown fur gleams
under the high sun
as his paws, the size
of catcher's mitts,
crackle into the distance.
He is sick of dispensing
warnings to the careless,
the half-wit camper,
the dumbbell h...Read more of this...
by
Brautigan, Richard
...t fellowing sheep ****. It was ahead of us
for the next mile.
I kept looking down on the meadow by the Little Smokey,
hoping to see the sheep down there, but there wasn't a sheep
in sight. only the **** in front of us on the road.
As if it were a game invented by the spincter muscle, we
knew what the score was. shaking our heads side to side,
waiting.
Then we went around a bend and the sheep burst like a
roman candle all over the road and aga...Read more of this...
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