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Famous Strut Poems by Famous Poets

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

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by Service, Robert William is run
 By mediocre men.

Of course you'll maybe not agree
 That you are average,
And unlike ordinary me
 You strut your little stage,
Well, you may even own a Bank,
 And mighty mergers plan,
But Brother, doff your tile and thank
 The Mediocre Man....Read More

by Milosz, Czeslaw, is ignored.

I would deal separately with satisfaction and pride,
The time when I was among their adherents
Who strut victoriously, unsuspecting.

But all of them would have one subject, desire,
If only my own -- but no, not at all; alas,
I was driven because I wanted to be like others.
I was afraid of what was wild and indecent in me.

The history of my stupidity will not be written.
For one thing, it's late. And the truth is laborious.

Berk...Read More

by Parker, Dorothy
"Scratch a lover, and find a foe."


Oh, beggar or prince, no more, no more!
Be off and away with your strut and show.
The sweeter the apple, the blacker the core:
Scratch a lover, and find a foe!...Read More

by Robinson, Edwin Arlington
...poor clay
And saying nothing .... Yet, for all his engines,
You'll meet a thousand of an afternoon
Who strut and sun themselves and see around 'em
A world made out of more that has a reason
Than his, I swear, that he sees here to-day;
Though he may scarcely give a Fool an exit
But we mark how he sees in everything
A law that, given we flout it once too often,
Brings fire and iron down on our naked heads.
To me it looks as if the power that made him,
For f...Read More

by Clare, John
...danse' their sports renew
And act their winter evening play
The clown-turnd-kings for penny praise
Storm wi the actors strut and swell
And harlequin a laugh to raise
Wears his hump back and tinkling bell

And oft for pence and spicy ale
Wi winter nosgays pind before
The wassail singer tells her tale
And drawls her christmass carrols oer
The prentice boy wi ruddy face
And ryhme bepowderd dancing locks
From door to door wi happy pace
Runs round to claim his 'christmass box'

T...Read More

by Mayakovsky, Vladimir
...d they’re
 thick as nettles:
 red tapists,
 down the row,
They strut around
 as peacocks,
badges and fountain pens
 studding their chests.
We’ll lick the lot of ’em-
 to lick ’em
is no easy job
 at the very best.
On snow-covered lands
 and on stubbly fields,
in smoky plants
 and on factory sites,
with you in our hearts,
 Comrade Lenin,
 we build,
we think,
 we breathe,
 we live,
 and we fight!”
Awh...Read More

by Berryman, John
...Westward, hit a low note, for a roarer lost
across the Sound but north from Bremerton,
hit a way down note.
And never cadenza again of flowers, or cost.
Him who could really do that cleared his throat
& staggered on.

The bluebells, pool-shallows, saluted his over-needs,
while the clouds growled, heh-heh, & snapped, & crashed.

No stunt he'...Read More

by Carroll, Lewis will not spare,
The vermin that beset her path! 

Go, throng each other's drawing-rooms,
Ye idols of a petty clique:
Strut your brief hour in borrowed plumes,
And make your penny-trumpets squeak. 

Deck your dull talk with pilfered shreds
Of learning from a nobler time,
And oil each other's little heads
With mutual Flattery's golden slime: 

And when the topmost height ye gain,
And stand in Glory's ether clear,
And grasp the prize of all your pain -
So many hundred pou...Read More

by Kay, Jackie
...How they strut about, people in love,
How tall they grow, pleased with themselves,
Their hair, glossy, their skin shining.
They don't remember who they have been.

How filmic they are just for this time.
How important they've become - secret, above
The order of things, the dreary mundane.
Every church bell ringing, a fresh sign.

How dull the lot ...Read More

by Wilde, Oscar chair the children run
Like little things of dancing gold.

Sometimes about the painted kiosk
The mimic soldiers strut and stride,
Sometimes the blue-eyed brigands hide
In the bleak tangles of the bosk.

And sometimes, while the old nurse cons
Her book, they steal across the square,
And launch their paper navies where
Huge Triton writhes in greenish bronze.

And now in mimic flight they flee,
And now they rush, a boisterous band -
And, tiny hand on tiny hand,
C...Read More

by Trumbull, John
To wealth and power and honors rise,
Like new-wing'd maggots changed to flies,
And fluttering round in high parade,
Strut in the robe, or gay cockade.
See Arnold quits, for ways more certain,
His bankrupt-perj'ries for his fortune,
Brews rum no longer in his store,
Jockey and skipper now no more,
Forsakes his warehouses and docks,
And writs of slander for the pox;
And cleansed by patriotism from shame,
Grows General of the foremost name.
For in this ferment of the...Read More

by Nash, Ogden
...'s trafficless heaven than in an automobile
or a train
But ...
My God, have you ever taken a good look at a strut?
Then that one about how you're in Boston before you can say antidis-
So that preferring to take five hours by rail is a pernicious example of
At least when I get on the Boston train I have a good chance of landing
in the South Station
And not in that part of the daily press which is reserved for victims of
avi...Read More

by Service, Robert William
...n red or pink I see
 In stripy pants of state,
I think of how they lost in me
 A demon of debate.
I muse as leaders strut about
 In frock-coats and high hats . . .
The bloody party chucked me out
 Because of Spats....Read More

by Service, Robert William mad and dinna ken a reel from Strathspey.
Now, what we want's a kiltie lad, primed up wi' mountain dew,
To strut the floor at supper time, and play a lilt or two.
In all the North there's only one; of him I've heard them speak:
His name is Jock MacPherson, and he lives on Boulder Creek;
An old-time hard-rock miner, and a wild and wastrel loon,
Who spends his nights in glory, playing pibrochs to the moon.
I'll seek him out; beyond a doubt on next Saint And...Read More

by Lindsay, Vachel

King Solomon he had four hundred chieftains. 

[They go to the footlights with the greatest possible strut.]


We were the chieftains.


You shall be proud again, 

[The leaders stand with arms proudly folded.]

Dazzle the crowd again,

[They walk backward haughtily, laughing on the last lines.]

Laughing aloud
For ten thousand years.

[From here on the whole production to be much more solemn, elevated, reli...Read More

by von Goethe, Johann Wolfgang
Then, rustling through the myrtle boughs, behold,
There comes a wanton pair of doves,
Who settle down, and, nodding, strut
O'er the gold sands beside the stream,
And gradually approach;
Their red-tinged eyes, so full of love,
Soon see the inward-sorrowing one.
The male, inquisitively social, leaps
On the next bush, and looks
Upon him kindly and complacently.
"Thou sorrowest," murmurs he:
"Be of good cheer, my friend!
All that is needed for calm happiness
Hast thou ...Read More

by Graves, Robert
...ust go just the same, 
And new foul tricks unguessed before 
Will win and justify this War. 
Kaisers and Czars will strut the stage
Once more with pomp and greed and rage; 
Courtly ministers will stop 
At home and fight to the last drop; 
By the million men will die 
In some new horrible agony;
And children here will thrust and poke, 
Shoot and die, and laugh at the joke, 
With bows and arrows and wooden spears, 
Playing at Royal Welch Fusiliers....Read More

by Hardy, Thomas
...lively when ruined," said she.  

"--I wish I had feathers, a fine sweeping gown,
And a delicate face, and could strut about Town!"--
"My dear--a raw country girl, such as you be,
Cannot quite expect that. You ain't ruined," said she.
...Read More

by Thomas, Dylan
...ouched like a tailor
Sewing a shroud for a journey
By the light of the meat-eating sun.
Dressed to die, the sensual strut begun,
With my red veins full of money,
In the final direction of the elementary town
I advance as long as forever is....Read More

by Lowell, Robert
...ic Church.)

After a hearty New England breakfast,
I weigh two hundred pounds
this morning. Cock of the walk,
I strut in my turtle-necked French sailor's jersey
before the metal shaving mirrors,
and see the shaky future grow familiar
in the pinched, indigenous faces
of these thoroughbred mental cases,
twice my age and half my weight.
We are all old-timers,
each of us holds a locked razor....Read More

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