Get Your Premium Membership

Famous Eggs Poems by Famous Poets

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

See also:

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry
..."

Morphia drowsed, again I lay
In a crater by High Wood:
He was there with straddling legs,
Staring eyes as big as eggs,
Purring as he lapped my blood,
His black bulk darkening the day,
With a voice cruel and flat,
"Cat! ... Cat! ... Cat! ... Cat!..." he said, "Cat! ... Cat!..."

When I'm shot through heart and head,
And there's no choice but to die,
The last word I'll hear, no doubt,
Won't be "Charg...Read more of this...
by Graves, Robert



...e 
For ADORATION; tendrils climb, 
 And fruit-trees pledge their gems; 
And Ivis with her gorgeous vest,
Builds for her eggs her cunning nest, 
 And bell-flowers bow their stems. 

 LIV 
With vinous syrup cedars spout; 
From rocks pure honey gushing out, 
 For ADORATION springs; 
All scenes of painting crowd the map 
Of nature; to the mermaid's pap 
 The scaled infant clings. 

 LV 
The spotted ounce and playsome cubs
Run rustling 'mongst the flow'ring shrubs, 
 And l...Read more of this...
by Smart, Christopher
...be worthy of your million Trotskyites? 
America why are your libraries full of tears? 
America when will you send your eggs to India? 
I'm sick of your insane demands. 
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I 
 need with my good looks? 
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not 
 the next world. 
Your machinery is too much for me. 
You made me want to be a saint. 
There must be some other way to settle this argument. 
Burroughs is in...Read more of this...
by Ginsberg, Allen
...;
But yesterday he brought to me an iris-plumaged dove

With little crimson feet, which with its store
Of seven spotted eggs the cruel lad
Had stolen from the lofty sycamore
At daybreak, when her amorous comrade had
Flown off in search of berried juniper
Which most they love; the fretful wasp, that earliest vintager

Of the blue grapes, hath not persistency
So constant as this simple shepherd-boy
For my poor lips, his joyous purity
And laughing sunny eyes might well decoy
A D...Read more of this...
by Wilde, Oscar
...ho captures the oldest son's heart.
from diapers to Dior.
That story.

Or a milkman who serves the wealthy,
eggs, cream, butter, yogurt, milk,
the white truck like an ambulance
who goes into real estate
and makes a pile.
From homogenized to martinis at lunch.

Or the charwoman
who is on the bus when it cracks up
and collects enough from the insurance.
From mops to Bonwit Teller.
That story.

Once
the wife of a rich man was on her deathbed
and s...Read more of this...
by Sexton, Anne



...her and Philip too,
As simple folks that knew not their own minds;
And one, in whom all evil fancies clung
Like serpent eggs together, laughingly
Would hint a worse in either. Her own son
Was silent, tho' he often look'd his wish;
But evermore the daughter prest upon her
To wed the man so dear to all of them
And lift the household out of poverty;
And Philip's rosy face contracting grew
Careworn and wan; and all these things fell on her
Sharp as reproach. 

At last one...Read more of this...
by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...and rather tame than wild, 
Hear the child's story.' 'Yea, my well-beloved, 
An 'twere but of the goose and golden eggs.' 

And Gareth answered her with kindling eyes, 
'Nay, nay, good mother, but this egg of mine 
Was finer gold than any goose can lay; 
For this an Eagle, a royal Eagle, laid 
Almost beyond eye-reach, on such a palm 
As glitters gilded in thy Book of Hours. 
And there was ever haunting round the palm 
A lusty youth, but poor, who often saw 
The s...Read more of this...
by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...Drinking my tea
Without sugar-
 No difference.

The sparrow shits
 upside down
--ah! my brain & eggs

Mayan head in a
Pacific driftwood bole
--Someday I'll live in N.Y.

Looking over my shoulder
my behind was covered
with cherry blossoms.

 Winter Haiku
I didn't know the names 
of the flowers--now
my garden is gone.

I slapped the mosquito
and missed.
What made me do that?

Reading haiku
I am unhappy,
longing for the Nameless.

...Read more of this...
by Ginsberg, Allen
...hrift,
And seldom felt she any hunger-pain;
And when she left, she hurried back, as swift
As bird on wing to breast its eggs again;
And, patient as a hen-bird, sat her there
Beside her Basil, weeping through her hair.

LX.
Yet they contriv'd to steal the Basil-pot,
And to examine it in secret place:
The thing was vile with green and livid spot,
And yet they knew it was Lorenzo's face:
The guerdon of their murder they had got,
And so left Florence in a moment's space,
...Read more of this...
by Keats, John
...re he doth dithering sit, and entertain
His eyes with marking the storm-driven leaves;
Oft spying nests where he spring eggs had ta'en,
And wishing in his heart 'twas summer-time again.

Thus wears the month along, in checker'd moods,
Sunshine and shadows, tempests loud, and calms;
One hour dies silent o'er the sleepy woods,
The next wakes loud with unexpected storms;
A dreary nakedness the field deforms—
Yet many a rural sound, and rural sight,
Lives in the village still...Read more of this...
by Bryant, William Cullen
...of a

can full of water on their table and died under the table, gasp-

ing for watery breath while their mother fried eggs on the

Coleman stove.

 The mother apologized. She was supposed to be watching

the fish --THIS IS MY EARTHLY FAILURE-- holding the

dead fish by the tail, the fish taking all the bows like a young

Jewish comedian talking about Adlai Stevenson.

 The third-year student in engineering at the University of

Montana took a tin can and punched...Read more of this...
by Brautigan, Richard
...on the prairie heart.. . .
 After the sunburn of the day
 handling a pitchfork at a hayrack,
 after the eggs and biscuit and coffee,
 the pearl-gray haystacks
 in the gloaming
 are cool prayers
 to the harvest hands.

In the city among the walls the overland passenger train is choked and the pistons hiss and the wheels curse.
On the prairie the overland flits on phantom wheels and the sky and the soil between them muffle the pistons and cheer the wheel...Read more of this...
by Sandburg, Carl
...possibilities can remain
Whole without being tested. Actually
The skin of the bubble-chamber's as tough as
Reptile eggs; everything gets "programmed" there
In due course: more keeps getting included 
Without adding to the sum, and just as one
Gets accustomed to a noise that
Kept one awake but now no longer does,
So the room contains this flow like an hourglass
Without varying in climate or quality
(Except perhaps to brighten bleakly and almost
Invisibly, in a focus sharp...Read more of this...
by Ashbery, John
...ills to mountains grew 
In White of Selborne's loving view, -- 
He told how teal and loon he shot, 
And how the eagle's eggs he got, 
The feats on pond and river done, 
The prodigies of rod and gun; 
Till, warming with the tales he told, 
Forgotten was the outside cold, 
The bitter wind unheeded blew, 
From ripening corn the pigeons flew, 
The partridge drummed i' the wood, the mink 
Went fishing down the river-brink. 
The woodchuck, like a hermit gray, 
Peered from the d...Read more of this...
by Whittier, John Greenleaf
...I breathe the air, but leave plenty after me, 
And am not stuck up, and am in my place. 

(The moth and the fish-eggs are in their place; 
The suns I see, and the suns I cannot see, are in their place;
The palpable is in its place, and the impalpable is in its place.) 

17
These are the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands—they are not
 original with me; 
If they are not yours as much as mine, they are nothing, or next to nothing; 
If they are not the ...Read more of this...
by Whitman, Walt
...hatterings at the market-cross, 
Rejoice, small man, in this small world of mine, 
Yea, even in their hens and in their eggs-- 
O brother, saving this Sir Galahad, 
Came ye on none but phantoms in your quest, 
No man, no woman?' 

Then Sir Percivale: 
`All men, to one so bound by such a vow, 
And women were as phantoms. O, my brother, 
Why wilt thou shame me to confess to thee 
How far I faltered from my quest and vow? 
For after I had lain so many nights 
A bedmate of th...Read more of this...
by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...ollects--though it does not subscribe.

"Its flavour when cooked is more exquisite far
 Than mutton, or oysters, or eggs:
(Some think it keeps best in an ivory jar,
 And some, in mahogany kegs:)

"You boil it in sawdust: you salt it in glue:
 You condense it with locusts and tape:
Still keeping one principal object in view--
 To preserve its symmetrical shape."

The Butcher would gladly have talked till next day,
 But he felt that the Lesson must end,
And he wept with...Read more of this...
by Carroll, Lewis
...Eagle, thou seest a portion of Genius. lift up
thy head!

As the catterpiller chooses the fairest leaves to lay her eggs
on, so the priest lays his curse on the fairest joys. 

To create a little flower is the labour of ages.

Damn. braces: Bless relaxes.

The best wine is the oldest. the best water the newest.
Prayers plow not! Praises reap not!
Joys laugh not! Sorrows weep not! 


PLATE 10

The head Sublime, the heart Pathos, the genitals Beauty,...Read more of this...
by Blake, William
...r."
When I left the madhouse I tried other women
but, once they stripped naked, their spiky cunts
bristled like sea eggs and I couldn't dive.
The chaplain came round. I paid him no mind.
Where is my rest place, Jesus? Where is my harbor?
Where is the pillow I will not have to pay for,
and the window I can look from that frames my life?


3 Shabine Leaves the Republic

I had no nation now but the imagination.
After the white man, the niggers didn't want me
...Read more of this...
by Walcott, Derek
...arguments
as notices of foreclosure
fell into the mailbox.
rain and hail, cans of beans,
bread without butter;fried
eggs, boiled eggs, poached
eggs; peanut butter
sandwiches, and an invisible 
chicken in every pot.
my father, never a good man
at best, beat my mother
when it rained
as I threw myself
between them,
the legs, the knees, the
screams
until they
seperated.
"I'll kill you," I screamed
at him. "You hit her again
and I'll kill you!"
"Get that son-of-a-b...Read more of this...
by Bukowski, Charles

Dont forget to view our wonderful member Eggs poems.


Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry