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Elegy Name Poems | Elegy Poems About Name

These Elegy Name poems are examples of Elegy poems about Name. These are the best examples of Elegy Name poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Elegy | |

IN AN UNKNOWN GRAVE HE LIES

This is about a man whose name is Jesse
Born In Kansas and raised in Missouri
 Was called to fight for his beloved country
And  assigned to defend an outlying territory

Jesse fought as hard as any American would
For freedom and democracy he did everything he could
For Uncle Sam, even in danger steadfast he stood
Believing in his heart that everything will turn out good

He was with the Death March in Bataan
But he was helped to escape by his special someone
Josie was the name of this special woman
Who walked along with the March since it began

It was in the territory that he met Josie
A woman whose dad was from Cincinnati
The two fell in love cause they had chemistry
They had their first child in nineteen forty three

In forty four he was again captured by the Japanese
He was already sick cause he caught a disease
Was taken to a prison camp and placed under lock and keys
In the end the harsh conditions led to his demise

Josie tried to look for his grave but failed
She couldn't do anything and in sadness she wailed
There were reports that he died in the hell ship as it sailed
But to get proof to the true cause of his death we have failed

Jesse died in January of nineteen forty five
Stories about him that Josie told kept him alive
In the heart of his descendants his memories survive
Love for him in their hearts continues to thrive

But every time I go to bed and close my eyes
I see his face and think of the truth that I despise
My whole body stiffens and I get as cold as ice
Sadly thinking that still, in an unknown grave he lies

NOTE
(For my grandfather US Army 2nd Lt. Jesse C. Boak of the 33rd Infantry 
Regiment, who was declared MIA in WWII. His body was never found and true 
cause of his death was never known.His name is listed in the Tablets of the 
Missing at the Manila American Cemetery and on a Memorial Monument at the 
State of Missouri
Grandpa even though I never got the chance to really know you I will always be 
proud of you-JEB)

                                                           JESSE C. BOAK
                                                           2nd Lt. US Army
                                                                1917-1945
               Awards: Silver Star, Bronze Star, Purple Heart with 2 Oak Leaf Clusters


Details | Elegy | |

God Received An Angel

In the summer of 2007, God received an angel.
The Angels name was Katie. 
Katie was sweet & Katie was good
But I guess God wanted sweet old Katie
Out of the hood.
She did all she could, she gave all she had
But never in her life treated anyone bad.
Jesus, I know that she’s good
I know that she is great
But sometimes I just hate, 
Hate that she is gone
Hate that she is away
I think about her everyday.
Everyone & Everything is changing
Family is falling apart, 
Oh why it’s breaking my heart.
Tearing the house down acting like pure clowns
God you got a gift 
But sometimes I wish,
Wish you hadn’t took my Angel
Wish you would have let her stay a little longer.
God received an Angel.
The Angels name was Katie
 I hope Katie is with me daily
Until I die & visit her in the sky
House is up wholesale, everyone thinking
“WHAT THE HELL”
Angels, Angels, Angels
Angels flying here, Angels flying there
Angels are flying around just about any & everywhere
You took a couple of my families angels in strange ways 
I get up in the morning wondering when is my day
& who will be next to depart us.
My heart was broken when you took my Angel
Oh, why did you have to take her,
Her out of all people
She followed the rules and the laws 
But I am wondering is that all.


Details | Elegy | |

Back Door Side Door Front Door : Which door might a Confucian take

 
                   for René Etiemble  (Jan. 26, 1909 – Jan. 2002)*

 

 Barely a few speechless moments before your first words

           burned the « Coplas por la muerte de su padre » :

            

            ‘Nuestras vidas son los ríos       

       que van a dar en la mar,

       que es el morir ;

      ………………………………

       y llegados, son iguales

       los que viven por sus manos         

       y los ricos.’

 

      Is the open back door which emboldens courage

No untarnished name to be remembered by

No selfless mate to lay by your honour

       No issue laying about themselves for your prize

 

       Decidedly it was a door of stealth

As if choosing it  you let it be known

you were only merely passing by

       and stopped to hang your hat here for a while

 

Yet you let your kin and callers believe

      your whims were worth putting up with

      your mischievous tantrums and gripes

merely the mental athlete’s unwinding antics

 

The poïetic birth pangs of imminent glory

      just the mounting stones in the monumental lighthouse

that ages from hence would pick forth

      your works  your unfathomable literary resource

 

You upheld dozens who did leave behind a name

     a lasting name  not quite torn from solitary pain

Yet who could deny you could have bettered their fame 

     What undisclosed pain you harboured in your brain

 

Oh so strangely were you endowed with the intelligence

     of the Chun Tzu - that uncanny eagle’s scan

To rout out of the mazes of your students’ past lives

      just that one passqge through their Tierra del Fuego

 

But then you who completely espoused the rigours

      of that step by step mounting of respectful steps

Were unsparing in your demands of adherence

      to old Master Kung’s hierarchical obedience

 

An open hand ready to sign any cheque

      to succour the caller’s needs

     was alas ! also the whip hand

To keep the renegades in constant check

 

You were possessed of a rare brand of anger

      which shook the land about you

At those who bent justice to their unsavoury will        

      such thunder boiled from the guts of the earth

 

Now you’re gone and empty lecture halls echo your

     uncontainable ire where forged resounding silence

You said at the start of a seminal master-seminar :

     « Nul n’est prophète dans son pays ! »        

 

With the distaff side hanging on your every word

     wondering if your plans were for something yet undone

 

No stray notes lie about to record your travail

     No visible correspondence to make it all credible

Only books and books  files magazines and books

     and an overcrowdedly conquered mental pad                                    

jumbled words scratched into shaded inchoate sketches

     ganglia synapses   shot-up neurons

 

     no clues to a ragingly flailing mind

           none to record the lives you succoured

                   nor even the beneficiaries’ hurriedly scribbled thanks

          nor besides to the beclouding relations with one and all

                 not even a hint at why you may have refused

                        to forge a name beyond the beaten path of fame

 

Would going by the front door

in a fanfare of tv talkshows conference papers prize-giving ceremonies paper- interviews in ample studied poses and thoughts for future auto-memoirs volume one to seven the rest put-together posthumously in an omnibus

expurgated version with prefaces notes introductions critiques eulogies

 

          would it have been less like you

                                          to exit by the side-door   

the baywindow leading to reflected glory

     in a cool cloister of loosened leaves

stray poems in the tradition of your schooled masters

 

or did you burn them all

                                                in a fit of (cou)rage

     tore them to bits   incinerated by your fiery mind 

                     or squashed within yesterday’s leftovers

 

not caring who thought what

                     the mocking condescension

                       towards

 qu’en-dira-t-on

 

* The late Professor René Etiemble held the Chair of Comparative Literature at the old, pre-1968 Sorbonne University but retired in 1978 while a professor at the Sorbonne-Nouvelle University. In later life, he even refused nomination to the French Academy of Letters, though he did accept the Academy’s Prize. He was a prolific critic, essayist, and memorialist, having published some poetry and three novels. A renowned linguist and grammarian (a graduate of the prestigious and elite Ecole Normale Supérieure de Paris), he remained until his very last days an inveterate Sinophile. He edited the Gallimard-instituted UNESCO oriental literary classics series, a fitting tribute to his encyclopaedic learning.

© T.Wignesan,  6 novembre 1997, Fresnes-94, France  (from the collection : Poems Omega Minus, Paris, 2002)

 


Details | Elegy | |

Last Day of My life

My heart is broken in this night,
her words have again stolen my light.

What she said made my dreams fall apart,
leaving nothing but a hole for a heart.

For it was not my name that fell from her lips,
and through my soul that name now rips.

This pain is more than I can take,
I lay on my bed and weep and shake.

Without her by my side i will not survive,
I can no longer find a reason to be alive.


Details | Elegy | |

In the Need of Prayer

There are many of our friends and families who are no longer with us this day
So in the name of Jesus for them we will pray
We reach towards the hands of God, the Lord and master of our lives
We worship Him and praise Him in His son's name, The Lord Jesus Christ
We look up to His face, we look up to His eyes
We honor HIm today, we glorify Him who lives up high
How excellent Is your name oh Lord down here on earth
We magnify your presence, we place you first
We stand before you today oh Lord In the Need of Prayer

We come to you oh Lord as adopted sons and daughters
Exalting your name like all good children ought of
An whenever the seasons of life happen to intercede
We come to you Father God with our hands stretched out in need
We trust in you completely and thank you for all that you have done
Our hands in supplications because of the sacrifice of your son
Forgive us for our guilty feelings, our doubts and all of our fears
Remove the iniquity form our hearts, a burden we no longer wish to bear
We stand before you once again oh Lord In the Need of Prayer

Let your son's blood cover us and give us the breath of life
In the name of Jesus, the Kingdom that is Christ
Who died for our wholeness, who died for our sins
We thank you for the salvation and to be back in your good graces once again
By the covenant of the blood that was shed on Mount Calvary
On the crown and on the cross for all humanity to see
We stand before you this day oh Lord in the Need of Prayer


Details | Elegy | |

Death is Near

Hush now don't say a word
Death is near
I'm not scared
Don't have no fears
I know what is happening here
Don't treat me as though I'm gone
Enjoy these moments here
Soon I will suffer no more
My time is near
The good Lord is here
My name has been picked to go
My time has come now
I am going home with Him
The Lord is my Father here
He called my name 
I'm not just a number here
I see those Pearly Gates
Getting closer to my face
Say later not goodbye
This aint the last time we meet
I'll see ya in the near future
I'll be standing by
I'll watch your every move
For now I'm watching out for you
Hush now don't say a word
For death is near


Details | Elegy | |

the price

You left that night not knowing the outcome
After going to a party you wouldn't be home from
You had a few drinks what was I to say
Who knew you where throwing your life away
You got in your car and started to drive away
What a way to spend your last day
I got a call saying something was wrong
Your heartbeat faint, your pulse almost gone
The doctor came and said there was nothing they could do
They tried hard but he didn't pull through
There's a cross now to silently tell the story
As that day's memories fade into history
Your name in a book of deaths for that year
I'm sure everyone knows that name written with a tear
The price we had to pay was much too high
Maybe if you knew the cost you wouldn't of had to die
You could have taught me so much if you were still alive
Though you still taught me to not drink and drive