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Evil Tribute Poems | Evil Poems About Tribute

These Evil Tribute poems are examples of Evil poems about Tribute. These are the best examples of Evil Tribute poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Dramatic Verse | |

A tribute to Leonora G

~ Yolanda was--her name ~    Featuring:) Leonora Galinta

From a hell storm,
A mighty she-devil took on its form
Like a woman scorn ascending from the sea
Haiyan whipped across the central Philippines,
A deadly typhoon, maximum winds of around 315 
Terrorizing the fragile mind before making landfall
Hitting with the center eye off from her hostility 
A merciless turbulence that came and changed everything

Like a Massive Storm  
She comes in as the wise thief of the day and night, 
In her notorious gust of rage roars in disguise of thunder, 
With the company of her own knight of darkness, 
Raze all in a blast of waves wherever her path crosses, 
Ruining one of the cities down to a devastation in the land
“Pearl of the Orient Seas.” 

A mighty tempest in a woman’s name…. Yet, 
A disgrace with more than an immortal man in strength, 
Nature devouring nature itself 
Including her stewards and stewardesses
An unmerciful encroachment, robbing, killing adults and children. 

Yolanda, so cruel in her evil walloping!
A guest left smiling,
Engraving echoes of tears, from every single mourn
Vain, wicked, and colorless -no other air’s compare 
The lives she stole, one heart at a time
Pouring down the most nauseating rain, 
The pain is dissenting with everyone-- everywhere.
The bully of wind, invading sands of serenity

Unknowingly, far beyond your back----------------------------
Everybody will be summoning up more than your strength- 


:)

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Elegy | |

Running

I've trained for this. 
Lungs burning, muscles twitching
as I close in
on the line-
24,25,26.
I see them clearly now-
My wife, my child-
smiling, cheering
as they urge me
through the echoes
of feet smacking
pavement,
through my 
tunneled view of
the victory line,
through my exhaustion,
through my pain.

I've trained for this.
Lungs burning, muscles twitching
as I close in on my targets.
Thousands! There are many!
I can see them clearly now-
a woman, a child-
smiling, cheering
as I slip past
and drop my bags.
And now I am
running
through the 
smoke and through the
screams as runners push
toward the finish line
without legs.

I've trained for this.
Lungs burning, muscles twitching
as I close in
on the scene.
175, 176...
I see them clearly now-
the woman, the child-
lifeless, bleeding
as they urge me
through echoes 
of feet smacking
pavement,
through my
tunneled view of 
torment and death and
I can do nothing but
hold their hand.

Copyright © Rachel Kovacs

Details | Rhyme | |

Kingdom Lost

In summertime, the ivy climbs,
and hides the castle wall.
The king dreams of late,
that the sea is so great,
and yet - his boat is so small.
As swift as a fox and
dark as a raven on wing,
seven hundred soldiers march  
into the valley of the king.
Long overdue, a battle ensues
flanking the powers that be.
Children cry, and good men die, 
the monarch is now on his knee…
Soon the horsemen alone 
try to maintain the throne.
But the long way around
is the shortest way home.
The evening is filled
with chaos and smoke,
and the kingdom is 
stunned by it all…
Soon the sun will go down,
and in spite of his crown, 
the king will undoubtedly fall…
His rival’s strength
was mistaken,
by a king overtaken,
his life is now but a pawn.
His authority lifted,
the power has shifted –
an era of glory is gone…
 
 
 

Copyright © Cole Banner

Details | Ballad | |

The ballad of Tich Thomas

The Ballad of Tich Tomas
.
A dog was howling in the night
Perhaps she knew the truth
That Tich would not be coming home
This dog needed no proof
That the man who she loved so
He’d come to her no more
Because Lance corporal Thomas was
 A victim of the war.

Now Tich, he was a country boy
His farm it was his life
A boon to his community
He’d give in times of strife
He learned his trade in farming school
With honours he’d come through
Then settled down to work his farm
That’s what he planned to do.

But then, one day it came to him
The news he did not need
He’d been called up for army life
He went off without heed
To do his time in Puckapunyal
To get him set for war
He soon made it as Infanteer
So he joined a fighting corp

He worked real hard and gained a stripe
This showed he had potential
He earned his skills in jungle fighting
And then there came the call
For he to go to Vietnam
To five RAR he was sent
Charlie company was his unit
When off to war he went

It was in April sixty six
Our man went into battle
There in the Phuc Tuy provence
Those guns did roar and rattle
Our Tich he fought real gallantly
So brave was he, but then
The shrapnel done it’s evil job
He joined the fallen men.

They brought his body back to those
Who were waiting for him there
The whole town came to welcome him
And helped with grief and prayer
They buried him with all the honours
That came to fighting souls
Who died to keep their country free
Courageous in their roles.

More honour it was placed on him
By the country where he’d fought
They built a statue in his name
And his likeness it was caught
By the sculptor who did honour him
And carve him into stone
And now Tich Tomas guards the park
As he stands there all alone.

If you’re ever down in Nannup town
Go to the park that’s there
You’ll see the statue of young Tich
As his spirit everywhere
Will fill the souls of those who see
This fighting man, so brave
Who’s body lies so peacefully
In his own town, in a grave.

2007

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Light Poetry | |

You Do Not Know Me

Dark angels dance overhead
Storm clouds swirl within my head
Smiles are the veils of hidden thoughts
Tormented souls question not what is not

Ile St Louis, a swamp of nighttime beasts
Where soon poets shall roam
All that changed, the darkness kept the same
Only evil flowers dare to grow here

I was born in the comfort of a weeping nurse
Soon bestowed to the gallows underneath
For life passed by, and left me to ponder
The horror and madness within my dreams

You kiss my lips
Passions kiss you think frees me
From the darkness where I reside
St Louis is but far off from our romps

The play, maybe a muse on a past romance
Our flirt but a dance with history
You don’t know me
For I was born in the dark

As love ripens, we turn to grapes
The evening becomes our escape
Tiss you who have drowned me
In Seine, is where I rest

You don’t know me
My lover and killer
As I float away
From l'ile St Louis


Footnotes:

This poem is truly Edgar Allen Poe! Ile St Louis is the smaller of 2 islands in Paris on the Seine. It used to be swampland and crazing for cows, and in fact was the original Paris. Of course it was later developed, and many a famous persons have lived there, one being,  Charles Baudelaire  a French poet, whom is famous for a few things, the first being his poetic works called “ Fleur du Mal “   ( Flowers of Evil ) and thus the line in my poem “Only evil flowers dare to grow here”.  However Charles Baudelaire also discovered the works of Edgar Allen Poe and proceeded to translate Poe’s works into French. 

In Seine, is where I rest, well what can I say, I am insane, and thus this is one of my favorite lines!! :) As for Ile St Louis, I can only say, in Canada it is truly and island all alone!

Copyright © arthur vaso

Details | Senryu | |

decay

Death decay dismay
twist the mind honour 
bright open truth

Copyright © Bernard Barclay

Details | Epic | |

Stop South Africa now

Stop South Africa  now  
The mirror never lie
In your reflection 
Right in front of your eyes
All you see speaks 
that face right in front of your view
Shows who it is you see
So when you look in the 
Mirror 
All you see is you of you

To that king 
Some where in South Africa 
Please look in to the mirror
What you see might make 
You see again 
Remember the mirror don't lie 
After all this words gone wild 
To the minds of hates from you 
To the streets of South Africa
Your face  it speaks 
On the foreigners life's 

To the people of South Africa 
Is good to be your brothers 
Keeper
No injustices in this proverb
So keep back those stones
Oh keep behind all those axe's
Keep away all those bullets and
Guns 
Keep calm and let not your lands
Burn with hate
I thought it already had enough 
Stains of bloods from the times 
Of Mandela 
Oh brother why all this so called 
Xenophobic attack
Oh what a calamity
Sorry I disagree this acts 
For it cross the line of humanity
Oh stop please stop

The mirror never lie 
At the end of the day 
When after you finish 
Killing and destroying 
Then I wonder what 
The mirror tells of that face 
You see right in front of you
If you still have a heart 
You will hear those souls
You slain after you
For the mirror don't lie 
Tell the king I said so!
Richard Nnoli 


Copyright © richard nnoli

Details | I do not know? | |

Breath of a different weather

To Never Breathe Again 


No  breeze in the night-time
The winter weather goes
The heat runs out of sunshine
nobody knows
Summer refuses
Spring is passing a different change
The last fresh air we use
The world's gone strange
The weather's confused
No autumn leaves to rearrange
No whispers in the wind
The air is dry
No pouring in the rain
The storm does not cry
No loudness in thunder
The lightning no longer strikes high
No one then wonders
The answer is why?
The water is not splashing
No clouds in the sky
The weather's not passing
Can the weather just die?
         
  Skat POETRY

Copyright © SKAT A