Poems Inspired by Ernest Hemingway
#ErnestHemingway
Poems inspired by Ernest Hemingway. Here you'll find poetry using the style, themes or characters found in short stories and other works by Ernest Hemingway. Along with poems about Hemingway himself, including praise, criticism and memorials.
oskar
Poem Published
23rd Oct 2023 2:46pm
23rd Oct 2023 2:46pm
a normal name
who had a normal name
Now that October glides into November, we sleep later
till nine, and we do not use the living room heater, sit in the kitchen, watch TV after breakfast.
A light morning meal to break the fast, since we will eat lunch at one o'clock, or there about.
I have taken many nature photos of plants, flowers and
dead white trees no birds would sit on
I have seen birds nesting and their babies learning to fly
most were lucky, but some landed in a puddle and drowned, and the brave ones flying on untrained wings too far where the raven waited ...
Now that October glides into November, we sleep later
till nine, and we do not use the living room heater, sit in the kitchen, watch TV after breakfast.
A light morning meal to break the fast, since we will eat lunch at one o'clock, or there about.
I have taken many nature photos of plants, flowers and
dead white trees no birds would sit on
I have seen birds nesting and their babies learning to fly
most were lucky, but some landed in a puddle and drowned, and the brave ones flying on untrained wings too far where the raven waited ...
#ErnestHemingway
#FedericaGarciaLorca
#JimMorrison
119 reads
0 Comments
hgnichols
Poem Published
26th Aug 2019 11:46pm
26th Aug 2019 11:46pm
Tenente in Confidence
Now that my liver is open and bleeding,
I suppose I’ve been trying to speak my discontent.
That awful word I would not spit out,
Stuck in my teeth,
Telling itself in the moaning of my muscles,
The curvature of my back slumping downward as if begging for a bed or grave.
I’ve been numbing myself at the cafe and in the kitchen,
In the mornings and evenings to ease the transition between bouts of sleep,
Pores telling tales in the stink.
Every binge an unsayable frustration,
A dwindling summer spent bedridden
Catherine Barkley at bedside...
I suppose I’ve been trying to speak my discontent.
That awful word I would not spit out,
Stuck in my teeth,
Telling itself in the moaning of my muscles,
The curvature of my back slumping downward as if begging for a bed or grave.
I’ve been numbing myself at the cafe and in the kitchen,
In the mornings and evenings to ease the transition between bouts of sleep,
Pores telling tales in the stink.
Every binge an unsayable frustration,
A dwindling summer spent bedridden
Catherine Barkley at bedside...
#love
#alcohol
#books #ErnestHemingway
#books #ErnestHemingway
531 reads
5 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
17th Dec 2017 9:32am
17th Dec 2017 9:32am
favourite novelists
Favourite Novelists
Of all the American writers I knew of
some favourites remain, like Theodore Dreiser.
John Dos Passos, John Steinbeck and
Ernest Hemingway. I mentioning him the last,
although I admired his writing, still does
immensely, he was a master, like Dos Passos,
in short sentences, but I disliked his theme
often about hunting and shooting, personally
I think he was a big softy never killed
A thing in his life. These days if I read a novel
I rarely do – lack of patience- I prefer
the way John Steinbeck wrote. ...
Of all the American writers I knew of
some favourites remain, like Theodore Dreiser.
John Dos Passos, John Steinbeck and
Ernest Hemingway. I mentioning him the last,
although I admired his writing, still does
immensely, he was a master, like Dos Passos,
in short sentences, but I disliked his theme
often about hunting and shooting, personally
I think he was a big softy never killed
A thing in his life. These days if I read a novel
I rarely do – lack of patience- I prefer
the way John Steinbeck wrote. ...
#ErnestHemingway
548 reads
0 Comments
hamidmoghaddasi
Poem Published
26th Sep 2017 7:13pm
26th Sep 2017 7:13pm
My little poetry boat
Dedicated to Quin Overman
(WOLFSPIRIT)
my wonderful poet-friend
for his kind and ocean-like heart
With a few simple words wood
using slightly talents and skills
I've made and thrown
a small boat eagerly
into the vast ocean
the ocean of the English literature
Without any fear and worry
Me as a mystic lover
Without care about the cruel world
attacked the heart of the ocean
Free and self-determining
I was alone totally
at the heart of the wavy ocean
for the days and...
(WOLFSPIRIT)
my wonderful poet-friend
for his kind and ocean-like heart
With a few simple words wood
using slightly talents and skills
I've made and thrown
a small boat eagerly
into the vast ocean
the ocean of the English literature
Without any fear and worry
Me as a mystic lover
Without care about the cruel world
attacked the heart of the ocean
Free and self-determining
I was alone totally
at the heart of the wavy ocean
for the days and...
#sea
#LifeAsAWriter
#freedom
#ErnestHemingway
#courage
592 reads
0 Comments
AtoMikbomb
Poem Published
30th Aug 2017 11:08am
30th Aug 2017 11:08am
Freight And Unafraid
Rails laddered lateral
Parallel
Spans of measured meters - repeat
In ramparts undergirding - tracking dreams
And their iron accounts tell
They tell
Transient transcendences
In boxcar Bethels
Fancies followed by ferrous paramours
Of world
Of others - away
Of ventures vain
Or distant claim
Dens for vagrants bare of foot
Shod in denim and soot
Burrs on pant legs clinging
Swinging with the sway of savior trains
Wagers to wander bet on tracks
Wistful wonders...
Parallel
Spans of measured meters - repeat
In ramparts undergirding - tracking dreams
And their iron accounts tell
They tell
Transient transcendences
In boxcar Bethels
Fancies followed by ferrous paramours
Of world
Of others - away
Of ventures vain
Or distant claim
Dens for vagrants bare of foot
Shod in denim and soot
Burrs on pant legs clinging
Swinging with the sway of savior trains
Wagers to wander bet on tracks
Wistful wonders...
#ErnestHemingway
#LifeAsAWriter
#travel
#greed
#historical
656 reads
3 Comments
JohnFeddeler
Poem Published
28th May 2017 5:04am
28th May 2017 5:04am
Dolina ('maison' girl)
a man can get so drunk, he can’t spell his own name,
yet he can hunch over his table in a saloon, pull a blue pen from his
coat pocket, secure a ruled page from the serving girl that she ripped
out of a ledger, & compose the most beautiful, heart-broken poem.
let the whiskey spill & the tears fall where they may.
in the trenches of a bullet-scathed nightmare, I fire my weapon through
the fear in my eyes, Bogart & Hemingway at my flanks. when the enemy
rifles have gone silent, we rise from the pits like forlorn shadows & ...
yet he can hunch over his table in a saloon, pull a blue pen from his
coat pocket, secure a ruled page from the serving girl that she ripped
out of a ledger, & compose the most beautiful, heart-broken poem.
let the whiskey spill & the tears fall where they may.
in the trenches of a bullet-scathed nightmare, I fire my weapon through
the fear in my eyes, Bogart & Hemingway at my flanks. when the enemy
rifles have gone silent, we rise from the pits like forlorn shadows & ...
#war
#alcohol
#lover #ErnestHemingway
#lover #ErnestHemingway
1621 reads
9 Comments
dartford
Paul S...
Paul S...
Poem Published
14th Apr 2016 2:21am
14th Apr 2016 2:21am
literary discussions in a cafe by the thames...
Hemingway, he said,
but then he would -
and anyway, she said,
he weren't no good...
but then he would -
and anyway, she said,
he weren't no good...
#ErnestHemingway
736 reads
10 Comments
case28
Poem Published
26th Aug 2015 2:50pm
26th Aug 2015 2:50pm
crimson deep
the sea is viscous
pulsating phosphorescence
ripples amongst the calm wreck
of night
mort is
metallic brine
churning fear inside his guts
intermittent terror
reveals what follows the moonlight
when it tears through the clouds
drowning boys who cry
for being eaten alive
the old man imagines the monster
lurking twenty fathoms below
waiting for its prey
to gambol on a crimson moon
This poem was written...
pulsating phosphorescence
ripples amongst the calm wreck
of night
mort is
metallic brine
churning fear inside his guts
intermittent terror
reveals what follows the moonlight
when it tears through the clouds
drowning boys who cry
for being eaten alive
the old man imagines the monster
lurking twenty fathoms below
waiting for its prey
to gambol on a crimson moon
This poem was written...
#dark
#sea
#monsters #ErnestHemingway
#monsters #ErnestHemingway
1028 reads
11 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
14th Dec 2014 10:49am
14th Dec 2014 10:49am
the writer
The Writer.
When young, long before the computer was invented,
I rented a cabin in the north of Spain, serious and Nordic
I wanted to be a writer and brought with me a travel
typewriter – you will find one at a technical museum-
ready to stun the world. North of Spain is winter cold
the wood in the shed was damp gave off smoke and
little fire. Daytime not bad a frozen pond and a pair of
skates kept me warm. Nights, however, was cold till
a flock of sheep was seeking shelter I let them in, soon
the cabin was warm if smelly; mucking out in the...
When young, long before the computer was invented,
I rented a cabin in the north of Spain, serious and Nordic
I wanted to be a writer and brought with me a travel
typewriter – you will find one at a technical museum-
ready to stun the world. North of Spain is winter cold
the wood in the shed was damp gave off smoke and
little fire. Daytime not bad a frozen pond and a pair of
skates kept me warm. Nights, however, was cold till
a flock of sheep was seeking shelter I let them in, soon
the cabin was warm if smelly; mucking out in the...
#inspirational
#travel
#ErnestHemingway #memories
#ErnestHemingway #memories
691 reads
2 Comments
moose17
tay mmm
tay mmm
Poem Published
10th Dec 2014 4:57pm
10th Dec 2014 4:57pm
Waiting for the end to begin
It seems everything
comes back to me in waves.
I feel too much,
see too much,
hear too much.
My mind never stops.
I'll never be enough.
I notice infinity encroaching,
being so far and impossible,
yet so meaningless.
It makes me unnecessarily
nervous about the end.
Wherever it would end.
Math never made sense,
but I think I understand
that everything exists
to be converted
into numbers and calculations.
Maybe.
Infinity is strange and stupid:
a boundless...
comes back to me in waves.
I feel too much,
see too much,
hear too much.
My mind never stops.
I'll never be enough.
I notice infinity encroaching,
being so far and impossible,
yet so meaningless.
It makes me unnecessarily
nervous about the end.
Wherever it would end.
Math never made sense,
but I think I understand
that everything exists
to be converted
into numbers and calculations.
Maybe.
Infinity is strange and stupid:
a boundless...
#myself
#SelfReflection
#ErnestHemingway #anxiety
#ErnestHemingway #anxiety
776 reads
2 Comments
Dusty_Kenyon
Poem Published
12th Nov 2014 9:33pm
12th Nov 2014 9:33pm
Feast
Open nice and wide,
Just like Ernest Hemingway.
Finger my trigger.
Just like Ernest Hemingway.
Finger my trigger.
#erotic
#senryu
#ErnestHemingway
791 reads
0 Comments
LizB
Poem Published
2nd Aug 2014 8:46pm
2nd Aug 2014 8:46pm
Pens and Applications
I don't feel creative enough to write a poem right now so I'll just rant I guess. School starts in two weeks, two days, sixteen hours, and one minute and I've yet to figure out what I will become in life. I wish it was as simple as "hey I'm going to be a writer and shit" but let's face it: I need a steady job. I don't want to make that choice, I just want to be happy and not have to worry about rent or anything. The idea of being an English teacher revolts me because it looks as though I have failed in pursuing my dream so now I have to teach other minds to not fail even though some of them...
#LifeAsAWriter
#myself
#SelfReflection
#ErnestHemingway
#confusion
703 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems Inspired by Ernest Hemingway
