Best Eulogize Poems
As the sky weeps
in periwinkle petals of
multicolored roses,
rinsed in lemons, and lavender,
the poet within me
releases a bougainvillea
bouquet of unfiltered gratitude,
swaying to the celestial duet
orchestrated by
the angel of raindrops,
adorned in braided
wildflower crowns and
windswept wishes,
echoing dulcet melodies
rendered in whimsical accents.
I ponder, if tears had a tune,
would it be the
sound of drizzling dewdrops?
Would you then feel
the pain I carry,
veiled in smoky silence?
Or would I forever be
the silhouette cloaked
in fogs of charcoal confusion,
too dark to be deciphered
by the fragmented eyes
that eulogize
all that sparkles and glows?
But when stained sunflowers
swirl beneath starless spheres,
scattering seeds of sorrow
to cultivate a garland of grief,
puddled with poignant poems,
I remain throned,
as the goddess of black rain,
riddled with cosmic rituals,
sprinkling kaleidoscopic dust
upon forsaken fields,
while listening to the
drifting leaflets in crisp air,
pleading for the demise
of my unfaltering faith,
oblivious to the truth
that I fear not
mists of melancholy.
I surf through surging seas,
unafraid of twirling torrents
and blazing tides,
piercingly striking
shimmering sapphires
floating in deafening despair.
There in the abyss of obscurities,
I’m nestled within restlessness,
in rooted resilience,
like a perplexed paradox
weaving crippled odes to
the sun that longs to rise and sail,
splashing hues of cinnamon clemency.
Tonight, I’m counting crooning comets,
amidst quivering hailstones,
dancing in cataclysmic rhythm above,
to find my home within
an island of daphne dreams
and singing seashells.
For I hear the flaming flowers
in their solitary stillness
serenade rain rhapsodies,
to awaken the petrichor
soul of heavy horizons,
wrapped in stringed
milky-quartz beads,
bursting forth blooming tomorrows,
illuminated by chamomile water,
concocted from charismatic spring falls…
Yet I think of us, engrossed
in umbrella moments,
Cupid too envied this
symphony of romance
where love conquered all,
and grief but a blurred memory,
in sunlit souvenirs of yesterday.
Peace and unity sing in harmony, echoing worldwide,
When acts of humility replace revenge-infused pride,
When narrowness of mind, naked ambitions subside,
When nations of goodwill, stand together side-by-side.
No inconsolable tears, flooding grief in mothers’ eyes,
No gloomy dawns rise, in smoke of war on sunny skies,
Clamors of hungry, displaced souls, no longer agonize;
No more shattered dreams, buried alive, to eulogize.
Nothingness ceases to vacate sanctity of self-esteem,
Children now rejoice, reminiscing in Cinderella-dream,
Vying bliss of tranquil, endearments of amity redeem,
Discarding ill will, shrieking from yore of vicious regime.
Hiroshima, Nagasaki—echoes of sad, remorseful past,
Resonate horror and shock, from memories aghast;
A world without war, a wish too far, yet close to heart,
Achievable when covenants of life don’t keep us apart.
Dignity of humanity ranks supreme, as priorities change,
Nations engage in educational and cultural exchange,
Farms and factories hum, ensuring hunger is eliminated
As peace and unity toll, from hearts and minds elated.
Annotated Achilles amends fallen frame amputees
Bulimic Barbies browse media monkey banalities
Cameo clouds cling to beaded breath curios
Dopamine dreams delineate check cash desires
Echo endophfins eulogize bullet brain excrement
Fecal folly fantasies reveal relevant frivolities
Gonadal grownups gulp secret scrotal generosities
Helical hemorrhoids hinder senior stricken hemocraps
Idiotic ideals idioiosyncrate postpartum iconoclasts
Jack Jill juxtapositories seek sexestential jouveniers
Kryptic killer kisses ascot arrogant kingdumbs
Liquid lipid loiners fear frontline lucklullibies
Malevolent mommies masterbate rich reflective mommocules
Nevertheless nightingales nourish ruby rich noonbeams
Ovulatory occults outsource torrent tofu outrages
Pensive pisces picnics lovelorny passions
***** quiet quintensials release rancid quotients
Rape ripe residuals nullify nimble repercussions
Silky seafoam silhouettes fornicate frothy sandlets
Tepid torch trilogies belie belligerent tourniquets
Useless utterances utilize organize orgasmic utopias
Venomous vixens violate cruel.com visions
White willow wombs softly seed hospice hell winds
XX XY xfactors envision extracurricular xraydoms
Yearning yoyo yesterdays calculate clearcovert yields
Zen zealous zions mirror magnify Zoneotones
A spic and span barren bed,
soft pillow with blanket spread.
You're tired and bored, all hackneyed.
Ready to sleep, drop down dead.
But...a vigilant mind..alive in dread.
cacophony..chaos..thoughts unsaid.
Another sleepless night ahead?
Head and heart throbs, like burning cigarettes
Broken love haunts, rude taunts and threats.
Throttled throat breathes, playback cassetes.
Silent tears douse, debts and regrets.
There lies the pillow, waiting to get wet.
That pillow.....so much you miss ..
Where Santa hid .....those gifts of bliss.
An angel mom blew goodnight kiss.
The pillow fights of sweet reminisce.
Now all ruffled,.. restless,.. whimpers hiss
Somnolent sombre eyes,
in endless rhythm eulogize..
A Sleepless Lullaby....
Dawn bids night goodbye....
Burned the rim and the wind did swirl
Across the realm the flags unfurl
The watcher waits to glimpse redemption
Or at least the freedom of exemption.
Then headlong to complacency,
The poet seeks out vacancy.
A place where he can hang his head,
And wait until his words are dead.
What motivates his troubled mind
To leave convention far behind,
And push on stones until they roll,
To eulogize his sacred soul?
His words are called out after him,
Igniting pyres along the rim.
His embered ashes cascade down,
And singe the rooftops of the town.
In this way he is remembered,
As his words become dismembered.
Then feelings that his poems evoke,
Will fly away as wisps of smoke.
Until none read his words one day,
Then the long dead poet will fade way.
Tempestuous heart
As you change moods
In the stormy seas of life
Do not give up your hope
It is with grave consequence
That you would give in and give up
It is with remorse that we would eulogize
The demise of your hope, the passing of dreams
Do not succumb to the tempest
Be strong as the source of life
Symbolically as well, of love
Exist for those who live for you
Waiver not in the winds of despair
Oh, great and glorious heart
Beat on as the rhythm
Of all existence
To eulogize your life when we have spent so many years apart
gives me comfort and memories of your precious passed life
You speak to me in my dreams and share images of a castle by the stream
it's walls shine of elegance a beauty of luster gold for your soul it now holds
My Mother, you are now a jewel of heaven, a gem in God's crown
as his loving arms hold you and his angels wings wrap around.
I know you sit in the room of hearts and some day you will take me in your arms,
while the angels play their harps like the soft swaying sound of a violin my soul
will then depart.
As I stroll to the waters edge of sadness and my reflection is looking back
I see my mothers wonderful smile our characteristics and mannerism
you blessed me as a child.
Tonight I will sleep and you will whisper in my ear all the stories
from the day that I was born, taking away my sadness and
giving me comfort to help me not to mourn.
So on Christmas morn when I awake from my dream that we shared
I will not see the lights from my Christmas tree
only the glow from the angel who has given me a life and a soul that is free.
T Reams 12/3/15 I miss you Mom
"He murders and then walks in the funeral procession."
You ask me why the tears
Why the sad face
And inside I laugh
At your gull in asking
When you know full well
You are a murderer
And yet
You walk in the funeral profession of my heart
Wailing and mourning
Dressed in black
Crying tears made of glass
Manufactured perfection
Each “drop”
shattering as it hits the ground
A sound
Only I hear
You eulogize me
Speaking of my wonderful traits
What made me the beautiful woman
Everyone loved and wanted to be with
Everyone but you
Everyone but YOU saw my real beauty
The crimson glory of my robe
The scent of my being
YOU saw the thorn
Yet today
You call me a rose
You ask me why I weep
You ask me why I mourn
You murdered my heart
Yet you walk in the funeral procession
The last laugh is on you
For after 3 days
I will rise again
I need to rest in this tomb
Before I see the light of day
Before I awake to newness of life
But alas...
ALAS...
You will not be there
To witness
My resurrection day.
Eileen Manassian
Wordless worries wander wearily working wayward,
Towards thoughts transgressing truth’s textured tide.
As always acknowledging agnosticism’s appeal,
Essence easily evaporates, exeunt Emile.
Very virtuous violent vowels vociferously validate,
Sanctimonious sessions some subtly sacrosanct.
Is it in incrementally immense ingenious imaginations,
Or ontology’s omniscience overcoming oceanic oratory?
Roughly rallying rage’s recessive righteousness,
Quickly quartered queens quietly quiver qualities quoi.
Under unctuous undeniably Umbrian utterances,
An astute and acute awareness as always arose.
Placing plausibly proverbial prevaricating predications,
Many morose morally myopic manly mighty men,
Eulogize everlasting ephemerally entertaining evocations.
Insinuating incredible implications, insomnia initiates,
Notably nullifying notoriously negligible nihilistic necessities.
Lies lay low, linking lofty linguistic lessons like laws,
Of optional opportunities oscillating on occult overtures
Until underlying unctions unify ubiquitous unknowns.
Joyless Joseph’s joyful Joy just jumped, just jumped!
Killing killjoy knuckle kosher korma koranic krap.
And announce another anonymous anodyne appointment?
(Empiricism’s emphatic emission, enter erotic Eloise).
Having Heidegger helps, hope’s homunculi hunting human.
Get gone ginger guesses, go grope Ginger’s grapes!
Immaculately ironic inquisitions instigate immediate impositions.
Once onto opaque ominous orbs, obey Oracles open orders.
Framing funny fractions, flaming far flung frivolous fictions,
Death defies dollar damnations, deliciously done devaluations.
Usually uncle umpire understands useful underlying ululations,
Also affirming apples avuncular altruistic assumptions.
Creeds crave caves, charms calm cause, come conquerors,
Be belligerently bad, betray birth’s beginning, balance budgets.
Entreating entirely empty, emphatically elusive, existential entelechy,
Is, importantly, incommensurably idiotic, inexplicably impractical indeed.
Surging war country to country for dominance. Killing people for own contentment only gives learning lessons to kids and their kids. Will say this is the way of life....
Just imagine the future world;
Dry desert less greenery,
Gift for Future kids;
Nature they will eulogize,
Green sceneries hung on walls;
Never will remember,
The days of past;
Peace dove will no more,
Carry olive branch;
Live animals and birds,
Kids will watch in ultra TV,
Or museums movie halls;
Vultures will watch human carcus,
And dance in sky;
Kids will play with live guns,
Carry explosive grenades;
Bhoom, bhoom bombs,
As crackers blast;
As if were commemoration,
Of New year eve;
The shattered homes,
Injured running hither thither,
In pursuit of refuge;
Blood ridden bodies,
Lie in the streets unnoticed;
Never will wish to dream relation,
Emotions, love will wane;
Human will lose humanity;
Super modern world
Will act same as stone age,
The only difference,
They will carry weapons
And latest gaggets in hand;
© Sadashivan Nair
The poet to his garden went
To ease a potent, lingering grief;
He thought his sadness might be spent
If he could eulogize a leaf.
The sunshine was as fresh as mint.
The crystal dew, the virgin morn
And some lone songbird dumbly lent
Their succor as relief of scorn.
And so he penned the songbird's trill,
Perfecting it in hours late,
Not knowing that the sweet and shrill
Melodious call was for a mate;
Not knowing, too, that what he wrote
Beneath the fire muses sent
Was word for word and note for note
Exactly what the songbird meant.
Destiny
Sordid, shoddy succubus
Culled consciousness
Mottled, beguiled muse
Hungry for hope
An eruption of erudition
To be showered with praise
Cleansed pride
Chloroformed strife
Where dreams tease unkempt hair
And eulogize tear stained verse
Sacrificed on stripped oak altars
Trembling hostages of insatiable sermons
Sterile sunrises
Mourned by cramped, fertile fingers
I pray to my paranoia of invasion
Voices
Viscid footsteps
Shadows of salvation
Which pass without query
Again
Chortling echoes of obtuse obituaries
As I lie shackled to tomes of obscurity
Tortured
Starving
Undiscovered
Dead
As peepholes windows rattled on over pot holes,
In the inner sanctum, dim-light show darkly,
As prolific pickpockets glimpsed full fat purses;
With stealthy filty paws to fiddle and fondle inside hot
pies
Where hustling market's women chests underwear pouches,
Raucous kerfuffle flew after razor slashed deep pockets;
Like the flight of Flamengos
Dropping on motion, the golden stolen wallet assailant
vamoose;
And here, disgraceful disguise faces of nourished notorious
beggars,
Glib salesman eulogize marble chalk tablets and
turpentine,
To singe one thousand and one sickness,
And lifeless crowd spilled and shrouded lapsed on the parts
of poison ivy;
Thrust-thronged, defacing the emerging showcase of faceless
skyscrappers,
Better forgot in the museum of pyramid antiquity,
And rot on the garbage of yawning-gap memory,
Dark films smoke caked on drooping ill-faded fountain
Hibiscus,
Tree-lined traveling barb-wire amid
Toxic sludge plaster grass on muddy carpeted borderline,
The prowling beast trailing, triggering machine-gun
shrapnels and blasts;
Screaming smoking tires scattered shimmering lights on wet
avenue,
Turning bank of orchard blooming in red pomegranate into
cemetery bay.
Tired platitudes for the pain to drown,
The bridled tongue will keep the fire bound.
A dose of bromide helps the words go down.
Exalting paupers with a golden crown.
Creating hero’s with exalted sound.
Tired platitudes for the pain to drown.
If our words of truth would be met with frown,
Would we eulogize and then chest proud pound?
“A dose of bromide helps the words go down.”
Embellished sackcloth still an ugly gown.
Vapid faces prefer the truth go round.
Tired platitudes for the pain to drown.
If only flattery we dare be shown,
Could weakling hearts bear the weight of truth found?
A dose of bromide helps the words go down.
When counsel concealed from one who is lown,
For what good cause could such ones be renowned?
Tired platitudes for the pain to drown?
A dose of bromide helps the words go down?
Love philosophizes:
I will eulogize obstruction
I will displace your obstruction
You and I are one. Frugally: - “Who can be this one” Squealing! - “The free seller”. The seller is fled and I know his place, disguises and winks, there in the lane’s backside birds bid streams for dryness.
Love me with no pocket
Though I muse on those pockets you own.