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Famous Squat Poems by Famous Poets

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

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by Whitman, Walt—lacking these, of what avail am I? 

Accouche! Accouchez!
Will you rot your own fruit in yourself there? 
Will you squat and stifle there? 

The earth does not argue, 
Is not pathetic, has no arrangements, 
Does not scream, haste, persuade, threaten, promise,
Makes no discriminations, has no conceivable failures, 
Closes nothing, refuses nothing, shuts none out, 
Of all the powers, objects, states, it notifies, shuts none out. 

The earth does not exhibit itself, n...Read More

by Browning, Robert
...t the very nonce,
After a life spent training for the sight!

What in the midst lay but the Tower itself?
The round squat turret, blind as the fool's heart,
Built of brown stone, without a counterpart
In the whole world. The tempest's mocking elf
Points to the shipman thus the unseen shelf
He strikes on, only when the timbers start.

Not see? because of night perhaps? - why, day
Came back again for that! before it left,
The dying sunset kindled through a c...Read More

by Heaney, Seamus
...Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pin rest; snug as a gun.

Under my window, a clean rasping sound
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down

Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds
Bends low, comes up twenty years away
Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
Where he was digging.

The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft
Against ...Read More

by Gregory, Rg
relaxation breeds its bitter strain
the worst of all crimes is - i love you still

hope itself by nature is inane
i squat in a box dismembered from such will
to let me find the ease of mind again
 that is love's overspill

a roundel for ptolemy

the earth is not the system's centre- so ok
heliocentric - well our sun's a midget
spawning galaxies blow our minds away
 space then equal to a digit

the mightiest telescope's a widget
science at best hard guessing gone ...Read More

by Atwood, Margaret
...before that, and colder: 

The edge of the forest, the edge 
of the desert 
 the unpainted stairs
at the back where we squat 
outside, eating popcorn 

where painfully and with wonder 
at having survived even 
this far 

we are learning to make fire...Read More

by Sassoon, Siegfried
...error, and straightway something clambered 
Heavily from an oak, and dropped, bent double, 
To shamble at him zigzag, squat and bestial. 

Headlong he charges down the wood, and falls 
With roaring brain¡ªagony¡ªthe snap¡¯t spark¡ª 40 
And blots of green and purple in his eyes. 
Then the slow fingers groping on his neck, 
And at his heart the strangling clasp of death. ...Read More

by Brodsky, Joseph
nature spills the seeds of trees in vain.
I sit by the window. Hands lock my knees.
My heavy shadow's my squat company.

My song was out of tune, my voice was cracked,
but at least no chorus can ever sing it back.
That talk like this reaps no reward bewilders
no one--no one's legs rest on my sholders.
I sit by the window in the dark. Like an express,
the waves behind the wavelike curtain crash.

A loyal subject of these second-rate years,
I ...Read More

by Tebb, Barry
...m was not my county,

Hardly my country, memories from childhood

Of Hunwick Village with its single cobbled street

Of squat stone cottages and paved yards

With earth closets and stacks of sawn logs

Perfuming the air with their sap

In a way only French poets could say

And that is why we have no word but clich?

‘Reflect’ or ‘make come alive’ or other earthbound

Anglicanisms; yet it is there in Valery Larbaud

‘J’ai senti pour la premiere fois toute la douceur de vivre’-...Read More

by Riley, James Whitcomb
...look up to find the crow -- 
Er a hawk, - away up there, 
'Pearantly froze in the air! -- 
Hear the old hen squawk, and squat 
Over ever' chick she's got, 
Suddent-like! - and she knows where 
That-air hawk is, well as you! -- 
You jes' bet yer life she do! -- 
Eyes a-glitterin' like glass, 
Waitin' till he makes a pass! 

Pee-wees wingin', to express 
My opinion, 's second-class, 
Yit you'll hear 'em more er less; 
Sapsucks gittin' down to biz, 
Weedin' out the lonesomeness;...Read More

by Milton, John
...his radiant files, 
Dazzling the moon; these to the bower direct 
In search of whom they sought: Him there they found 
Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve, 
Assaying by his devilish art to reach 
The organs of her fancy, and with them forge 
Illusions, as he list, phantasms and dreams; 
Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint 
The animal spirits, that from pure blood arise 
Like gentle breaths from rivers pure, thence raise 
At least distempered, discontented thoughts,...Read More

by Ginsberg, Allen
Stunted boys big heads don't talk
Look bony skulls & silent round eyes
Starving black angels in human disguise

Mother squats weeping & points to her sons
Standing thin legged like elderly nuns
small bodied hands to their mouths in prayer
Five months small food since they settled there

on one floor mat with small empty pot
Father lifts up his hands at their lot
Tears come to their mother's eye
Pain makes mother Maya cry

Two children together in palmroof shade
Stare at me n...Read More

by Service, Robert William
...e scouring brutes,
And all I heard was my own harsh word and the whine of the malamutes,
Till at last I came to a cabin squat, built in the side of a hill,
And I burst in the door, and there on the floor, frozen to death, lay Bill.

Ice, white ice, like a winding-sheet, sheathing each smoke-grimed wall;
Ice on the stove-pipe, ice on the bed, ice gleaming over all;
Sparkling ice on the dead man's chest, glittering ice in his hair,
Ice on his fingers, ice in his heart, ice ...Read More

by Plath, Sylvia old anarchy to the horizon-line.
It would take more than a lightning-stroke
To create such a ruin.
Nights, I squat in the cornucopia
Of your left ear, out of the wind,

Counting the red stars and those of plum-color.
The sun rises under the pillar of your tongue.
My hours are married to shadow.
No longer do I listen for the scrape of a keel
On the blank stones of the landing....Read More

by Knight, Etheridge
On your brow.
Well, ****. lil sis, here we are:
You and I and this poem. 
And what should I do? should I squat
In the dust and make strange markings on the ground?
Shall I chant a spell to drive the demon away?
(Run sister run—the Bugga man comes!)

In the beginning you were the Virgin Mary,
And you are the Virgin Mary now.
But somewhere between Nazareth and Bethlehem
You lost your name in the nameless void.
"O Mary don't you weep don't you moan"
O Mary...Read More

by Verhaeren, Emile
The black mill so sinister moweth the wind.
The savage, fierce wind of November!

The old, ragged thatches that squat round their steeple,
Are raised on their roof-poles, and fall with a clap,
In the wind the old thatches and pent-houses flap,
In the wind of November, so savage and hard.
The crosses—and they are the arms of dead people—
The crosses that stand in the narrow churchyard
Fall prone on the sod
Like some great flight of black, in the acre of God.

...Read More

by Hugo, Victor
..."Come and see!" 
 Oh, certes! spirits, sylphs, there be, 
 And fays the wind blows often here; 
 The gnomes that squat the ceiling near, 
 In corners made by old books dim; 
 The long-backed dwarfs, those goblins grim 
 That seem at home 'mong vases rare, 
 And chat to them with friendly air— 
 Oh, how the joyous demon throng 
 Must all have laughed with laughter long 
 To see you on my rough drafts fall, 
 My bald hexameters, and all 
 The mournful, miserable...Read More

by Lindsay, Vachel
...And must the Senator from Illinois 
Be this squat thing, with blinking, half-closed eyes? 
This brazen gutter idol, reared to power 
Upon a leering pyramid of lies? 

And must the Senator from Illinois 
Be the world's proverb of successful shame, 
Dazzling all State house flies that steal and steal, 
Who, when the sad State spares them, count it fame? 

If once or twice within his new won hall 
His vo...Read More

by Larkin, Philip
...Why should I let the toad work
 Squat on my life?
Can't I use my wit as a pitchfork
 And drive the brute off?

Six days of the week it soils 
 With its sickening poison -
Just for paying a few bills!
 That's out of proportion.

Lots of folk live on their wits:
 Lecturers, lispers,
Losels, loblolly-men, louts-
 They don't end as paupers;

Lots of folk live up lanes
 With fires in a buck...Read More

by Amichai, Yehuda
...Visits of condolence is all we get from them.
They squat at the Holocaust Memorial,
They put on grave faces at the Wailing Wall
And they laugh behind heavy curtains
In their hotels.
They have their pictures taken
Together with our famous dead
At Rachel's Tomb and Herzl's Tomb
And on Ammunition Hill.
They weep over our sweet boys
And lust after our tough girls
And hang up their underwear
To dry quickl...Read More

by Darwish, Mahmoud
...this road together 
And then our days will take different directions: 
I, beyond nature, which in turn 
Will choose to squat on a high-up rock. 

On my rubble the shadow grows green, 
And the wolf is dozing on the skin of my goat 
He dreams as I do, as the angel does 
That life is here...not over there. 

In the state of siege, time becomes space 
Transfixed in its eternity 
In the state of siege, space becomes time 
That has missed its yesterda...Read More

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