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Famous Soup Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Soup poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous soup poems. These examples illustrate what a famous soup poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

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by Hughes, Langston
...gar-
 ments, poured steel to let other people draw dividends
 and live easy.
(Or haven't you had enough yet of the soup-lines and the bit-
 ter bread of charity?)
Walk through Peacock Alley tonight before dinner, and get
 warm, anyway. You've got nothing else to do....Read More



by Sexton, Anne
...emony
the two sisters came to curry favor
and the white dove pecked their eyes out.
Two hollow spots were left
like soup spoons.

Cinderella and the prince
lived, they say, happily ever after,
like two dolls in a museum case
never bothered by diapers or dust,
never arguing over the timing of an egg,
never telling the same story twice,
never getting a middle-aged spread,
their darling smiles pasted on for eternity.
Regular Bobbsey Twins.
That story....Read More

by Sexton, Anne
...ger,
held like a prisoner
who was so poor
he fell in love with jail.

I stand at this old window
complaining of the soup,
examining the grounds,
allowing myself the wasted life.
Soon I will raise my face for a white flag,
and when God enters the fort,
I won't spit or gag on his finger.
I will eat it like a white flower.
Is this the old trick, the wasting away,
the skull that waits for its dose
of electric power?

This is madness
but a kind of hunger.
What ...Read More

by Hikmet, Nazim
...M THE AUTHOR'S NOTEBOOK


Last night
when the ship entered the harbor
Gioconda's foot kissed the land.
Shanghai the soup, she the ladle,
she searched high and low for her SI-YA-U.


FROM THE AUTHOR'S NOTEBOOK


"Chinese work! Japanese work!
Only two people make this --
a man and a woman.

Chinese work! Japanese work!
Just look at the art
in this latest work of LI-LI-FU."

Screaming at the tip of his voice,
the Chinese magician
 LI.
His shriveled yellow spi...Read More

by Ginsberg, Allen
...inter midnight street 
 light smalltown rain, 
who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston 
 seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the 
 brilliant Spaniard to converse about America 
 and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship 
 to Africa, 
who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving 
 behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees 
 and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fire 
 place Chicago, 
who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the 
 F....Read More



by Marvell, Andrew
... 
So mayst thou p?rfect by a lucky blow 
What all thy softest touches cannot do. 

Paint then St Albans full of soup and gold, 
The new court's pattern, stallion of the old. 
Him neither wit nor courage did exalt, 
But Fortune chose him for her pleasure salt. 
Paint him with drayman's shoulders, butcher's mien, 
Membered like mules, with elephantine chine. 
Well he the title of St Albans bore, 
For Bacon never studied nature more. 
But age, allayed now...Read More

by Plath, Sylvia
...tory.
The apples are golden,
Imagine it ----

My seventy trees
Holding their gold-ruddy balls
In a thick gray death-soup,
Their million
Gold leaves metal and breathless.

O love, O celibate.
Nobody but me
Walks the waist high wet.
The irreplaceable
Golds bleed and deepen, the mouths of Thermopylae....Read More

by Tate, James
...good family dog
and not too friendly to strangers.
I got a thirty-five dollar raise
in salary, and through the pea-soup fogs 
I drove the General, and introduced him 
at rallies. I had a totalitarian approach 
and was a massive boost to his popularity. 
I did my best to reduce the number of people. 
The local bourgeoisie did not exist.
One of them was a mystic 
and walked right over me 
as if I were a bed of hot coals.
This is par for the course-
I wi...Read More

by Taylor, Edward
...good family dog
and not too friendly to strangers.
I got a thirty-five dollar raise
in salary, and through the pea-soup fogs 
I drove the General, and introduced him 
at rallies. I had a totalitarian approach 
and was a massive boost to his popularity. 
I did my best to reduce the number of people. 
The local bourgeoisie did not exist.
One of them was a mystic 
and walked right over me 
as if I were a bed of hot coals.
This is par for the course-
I wi...Read More

by Carroll, Lewis
...is no rest - in Venice, on
The Bridge of Sighs!" she quoted low
From Byron and from Tennyson. 

I need not tell of soup and fish
In solemn silence swallowed,
The sobs that ushered in each dish,
And its departure followed,
Nor yet my suicidal wish
To BE the cheese I hollowed. 

Some desperate attempts were made
To start a conversation;
"Madam," the sportive Brown essayed,
"Which kind of recreation,
Hunting or fishing, have you made
Your special occupation?" 

Her lips...Read More

by Neruda, Pablo
...g willow
hoppers:
a battle formation.
Most warlike
of defilades-
with men
in the market stalls,
white shirts
in the soup-greens,
artichoke field marshals,
close-order conclaves,
commands, detonations,
and voices,
a crashing of crate staves.

And
Maria
come
down
with her hamper
to
make trial
of an artichoke:
she reflects, she examines,
she candles them up to the light like an egg,
never flinching;
she bargains,
she tumbles her prize
in a market bag
among shoes and a
ca...Read More

by Hope, Alec Derwent (A D)
...green aesthete starts to whoop 
With horror at the house not made with hands 
And when from vacuum cleaners and tinned soup 
Another pure theosophist demands 

Rebirth in other, less industrial stars 
Where huge towns thrust up in synthetic stone 
And films and sleek miraculous motor cars 
And celluloid and rubber are unknown; 

When from his vegetable Sunday School 
Emerges with the neatly maudlin phrase 
Still one more Nature poet, to rant or drool 
About the "Standardizat...Read More

by Lowell, Amy
..., perhaps, I'll get a pass for you,
And when I go, why Lotta can come too.
Now dinner, Love. I want some onion 
soup
To whip me up till that rehearsal's over.
You know it's odd how some women can stoop!
Fraeulein Gebnitz has taken on a lover,
A Jew named Goldstein. No one can discover
If it's his money. But she lives alone
Practically. Gebnitz is a stone,
Pores over books all day, and has no ear
For his wife's singing. Artists must have men;
They n...Read More

by Chaucer, Geoffrey
...drink,
Of alle dainties that men coulde think.
After the sundry seasons of the year,
So changed he his meat and his soupere.
Full many a fat partridge had he in mew*, *cage 
And many a bream, and many a luce* in stew** *pike **fish-pond
Woe was his cook, *but if* his sauce were *unless*
Poignant and sharp, and ready all his gear.
His table dormant* in his hall alway *fixed
Stood ready cover'd all the longe day.
At sessions there was he lord and sire.Read More

by Aiken, Conrad
...ow, you say, for she is dead.


VII. PORCELAIN

You see that porcelain ranged there in the window—
Platters and soup-plates done with pale pink rosebuds,
And tiny violets, and wreaths of ivy?
See how the pattern clings to the gleaming edges!
They're works of art—minutely seen and felt,
Each petal done devoutly. Is it failure
To spend your blood like this?

Study them . . . you will see there, in the porcelain,
If you stare hard enough, a sort of swimmi...Read More

by Brooks, Gwendolyn
...seems . . . 
They own Spode, Lowestoft, candelabra,
Mantels, and hostess gowns, and sunburst clocks,
Turtle soup, Chippendale, red satin "hangings,"
Aubussons and Hattie Carnegie. They Winter
In Palm Beach; cross the Water in June; attend,
When suitable, the nice Art Institute;
Buy the right books in the best bindings; saunter
On Michigan, Easter mornings, in sun or wind.
Oh Squalor! This sick four-story hulk, this fibre
With fissures everywhere! Why, what...Read More

by Sassoon, Siegfried
...
(Not like this beldam clattering in the kitchen, 
That never trims a lamp nor sweeps the floor, 
And brings me greasy soup in a foul crock.) 

Blast the old harridan! What’s fetched her now, 
Leaving me in the dark, and short of fire? 
And where’s my pipe? ’Tis lucky I’ve a turn 
For thinking, and remembering all that’s past. 
And now’s my hour, before I hobble to bed, 
To set the works a-wheezing, wind the clock 
That keeps the time of life with feeble tick 
Behind...Read More

by Paterson, Andrew Barton
...the Israelites fled 
From Egypt with Pharaoh in eager pursuit of 'em, 
And Pharaoh's fierce troop were all put "in the soup" 
When the waters rolled softly o'er every galoot of 'em. 
The Jews were so glad when old Pharaoh was "had" 
That they sounded their timbrels and capered like mad. 
You see he was hated from Jordan to Cairo -- 
Whence comes the expression "to buck against faro". 
For forty long years, 'midst perils and fears 
In deserts with never a famine t...Read More

by Carroll, Lewis
...
To simper at a table-cloth! 

"Say, can thy noble spirit stoop
To join the gormandising troup
Who find a solace in the soup? 

"Canst thou desire or pie or puff?
Thy well-bred manners were enough,
Without such gross material stuff." 

"Yet well-bred men," he faintly said,
"Are not willing to be fed:
Nor are they well without the bread." 

Her visage scorched him ere she spoke:
"There are," she said, "a kind of folk
Who have no horror of a joke. 

"Such wretches l...Read More

by Murray, Les
...of no metaphors. 

Now I said, signing a Dutch contract 
in a hand I couldn't recognise, 
let's go and eat Chinese soup 
and drive to Lake Macquarie. Was I 

not renewed as we are in Heaven? 
In fact I could hardly endure 
Earth gravity, and stayed weak and cranky 
till the soup came, squid and vegetables, 

pure Yang. And was sane thereafter. 
It seemed I'd also travelled 
in a Spring-in-Winter love-barque of cards, 
of flowers and phone calls and letters, 
...Read More

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