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Famous Illicit Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry
...Wi’ sharpen’d, sly inspection.


The sacred lowe o’ weel-plac’d love,
 Luxuriantly indulge it;
But never tempt th’ illicit rove,
 Tho’ naething should divulge it:
I waive the quantum o’ the sin,
 The hazard of concealing;
But, Och! it hardens a’ within,
 And petrifies the feeling!


To catch dame Fortune’s golden smile,
 Assiduous wait upon her;
And gather gear by ev’ry wile
 That’s justified by honour;
Not for to hide it in a hedge,
 Nor for a train attendant;
But for t...Read more of this...
by Burns, Robert



...a state of drunkenness cut the hams of Hamzah's
camel with his sword. It is only for him that our
Prophet makes wine illicit....Read more of this...
by Khayyam, Omar
...keep it: seven thousand hungry girls in the Mississippi Valley have read the instructions seven years and found neither illicit loves nor lawful husbands.

PROFITEERI who saw ten strong young men die anonymously, I who saw ten old mothers hand over their sons to the nation anonymously, I who saw ten thousand touch the sunlit silver finalities of undistinguished human glory—why do I sneeze sardonically at a bronze drinking fountain named after one who participated in the w...Read more of this...
by Sandburg, Carl
...gainst the shadow-fact with which I strove. 
For when a cruel power forced me to face 
The truth which poisoned our illicit wine, 
That even I was faithless to my race 
Bleeding beneath the iron hand of thine, 
Our union seemed a monstrous thing and base! 
I was an outcast from thy world and mine. 

II 

Adventure-seasoned and storm-buffeted, 
I shun all signs of anchorage, because 
The zest of life exceeds the bound of laws. 
New gales of tropic fury round my hea...Read more of this...
by McKay, Claude
...me,
like little utero half-borns,
half killed, thin and bone soft.
They breathe the air that stands
for twenty-five illicit days,
the sun crawling inside the sheets,
the moon spinning like a tornado
in the washbowl,
and we orchestrated them both,
calling ourselves TWO CAMP DIRECTORS.
There was a song, our song on your cassette,
that played over and over
and baptised the prodigals.
It spoke the unspeakable,
as the rain will on an attic roof,
letting the animal join...Read more of this...
by Sexton, Anne



...eams—they are madness. Staring eyes—illusion.
Let us return, hear music, and forget . . .


IV. ILLICIT

Of what she said to me that night—no matter.
The strange thing came next day.
My brain was full of music—something she played me—;
I couldn't remember it all, but phrases of it
Wreathed and wreathed among faint memories,
Seeking for something, trying to tell me something,
Urging to restlessness: verging on grief.
I tried to play the tune...Read more of this...
by Aiken, Conrad
...Of what she said to me that night—no matter.
The strange thing came next day.
My brain was full of music—something she played me—;
I couldn't remember it all, but phrases of it
Wreathed and wreathed among faint memories,
Seeking for something, trying to tell me something,
Urging to restlessness: verging on grief.
I tried to play the tune, from ...Read more of this...
by Aiken, Conrad
...creance,* *denied our faith*
Came to the ship alone, and said he would
Her leman* be, whether she would or n'ould. *illicit lover

Woe was this wretched woman then begone;
Her child cri'd, and she cried piteously:
But blissful Mary help'd her right anon,
For, with her struggling well and mightily,
The thief fell overboard all suddenly,
And in the sea he drenched* for vengeance, *drowned
And thus hath Christ unwemmed* kept Constance. *unblemished

O foul lust of luxury...Read more of this...
by Chaucer, Geoffrey
...Whether he is or not. 

XLV 
Was this America—this my home? 
Prohibition and Teapot Dome—
Speakeasies, night-clubs, illicit stills, 
Dark faces peering behind dark grills, 
Hold-ups, kidnappings, hootch or booze— 
Every one gambling—you just can't lose,
Was this my country? Even the bay 
At home was altered, strange ships lay 
At anchor, deserted day after day, 
Old yachts in a rusty dim decay— 
Like ladies going the primrose way— 
At anchor, until when the moon was black...Read more of this...
by Miller, Alice Duer

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Book: Reflection on the Important Things