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Elegy Courage Poems | Elegy Poems About Courage

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

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Details | Elegy |


I've trained for this. 
Lungs burning, muscles twitching
as I close in
on the line-
I see them clearly now-
My wife, my child-
smiling, cheering
as they urge me
through the echoes
of feet smacking
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
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
through my
tunneled view of 
torment and death and
I can do nothing but
hold their hand.

Copyright © Rachel Kovacs | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy |


"Daddy" the way I call my father
The man who loves my mother
The man who gave life to me
And the man who will risks his life to protect his family.

He's not showy about his feelings
But I know he loves us unconditionally
He gets angry when his siblings were hurt
And he makes us laugh the way he dances and tells us jokes

Now..he left us already
His silly jokes,crazy dance moves now were gone
Coz he went to a far away land
In a place where  hurt and sorrow has no place in man

I miss my daddy a lot
His voice,
His jokes,
His crazy dance moves
And his being father to us
I miss everything about him!

I know God has a plan
And I give everything into His merciful hand
Pls.take care ofmy daddy in heaven
Coz someday we'll see him again
And continue the sing and dance with him again...

Copyright © Jerica Sanchez | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy |

A Soldier's Elegy

A kestrel dips into an updraft
thinking he knows the world
tranquility gurgles 
through silent valleys
over mountains
around the earth
through the wind

The creature soars ever higher
in great swoops and dives
the horizon curves as it eludes vision
the stars pulse their siren
but thrill denies
adrenaline overrules
their ambient warning

Gust to gust each fades 
quicker than the last
whispers carry the weight of wings
and their soulful song breaches sanity
prayers of rightful good
where petty purple banners
crest twinkling hearts

The last thermal ridden
last lyric dies
as flight’s drone fades
upturned wings alone
the sky empty oblivion
as the sun aligns its beady eye
to the looping path of the bird

Two brittle forms 
grapple in light
which blots out the senses
and protects 
what can never be touched
divine oblivion 
smites the naive bird
an archangel buried
in a crypt 
six feet deep.

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy |

My Brother James

We only talked sanely a few times, 
About how he also had a condition like me, 
Although my dad, who had a Medical Doctorate, when James was small wouldn’t say, 
Obvious as it was that he had CF from his inward-growing finger-nails, 
Dad decided to bypass the issue, medicine to assail. 

I have CP, and needed James’s comfy chair to read, 
It was given to him in misogyny because it was blue, 
About three months before he died he said, 
I could have it, and must convince mum and dad that it was mine;
They were Christians, fundamentalist and strict, 
And so sometimes there was an elephant in the room,
Between me and James, about the physical.

Death is inevitable, but to them it was only a maybe for James, 
When the doctors had said that 14 was the expectation, 
I prepared myself for the worst well before it occurred, 
As an atheist I am, with no qualms or hesitation. 

James wanted for me the best, happiness and friends, 
Wanted me to do my best physically, ‘cos he knew I wanted that too,
But he also suspected that I would grieve for him rightly, 
Not like a sentimental fundamentalist who believes that Jesus is risen, 
But as a steadfast atheist who knows what has been given; 
So he knew to remark on my immediate life without him so as to adjudicate. 

I cherished Christinna Georgina Rossetti’s poem, Remember, 
Long before and for some time after James’s death, 
And quietly held in my heart the loved-one’s good wish, 
Mum used to think that sometimes I was cold as stone, 
But really I'd faced the fact that James was dead and gone. 

Although Rossetti was by no means an atheist, 
Her poem recites the mantra of the bereavement psychologist,  
That to get on with your life as best you can,
Is a right, the partner of grief, and the pathway for your lone self;
In the Bleak Mid-Winter puts Christ as relational to nature,
Instead of pertaining nature to Christ, as it is normally, 
And so we must partake of it within our space and our pasture. 

Rhoda Monihan 


Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy |

Kudos to barack Obama

yea tis history - that end gin shelled a mesh by mit Romney wailin
such below figurative belt mortar attack subterfuge and constant railin
 per accusations hurled at barack Obama presidential campaign
lobbed like scud missile grenades from invisible hand no longer m palin
in comparison and hence moot point for republicans to gain
so this joe of a voter re-fused 2 bide time 2 prevent candidate from failin
app laud clinched 2nd term deserved and occupy white house seat a gain
intent i wanna talia 2 acknowledge salient tactics to boost usa now ailin
sasha bravado blasting and gunning futile fusillades 
   which questionable oppositional stealth indiscriminately fired pell mell 
   to discredit supreme commander in chief an exemplary persona in the main
   such desperate toothless and nail biting tactics 
   replete with political retaliatory slanderous stockpile bombardment 
   but rather, he opts to build fracking rainbow coal bridges 2 somewhere
 over the rainbow toward future with his omnipotent time tested girders 
   of righteousness and gravitas quite simple and plain
casting confidence that the democrats rank as the robust strongest train
   eclipsing her livid burst of 15 minutes fame that briefly wax than wane!

Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy |


i went into a dream the day my eyes saw you,
and for years i’ve been waiting for you to come
i thought that the splendid mountains came
And swallowed all what belonged to me 

i sleep not now 
for my dream is living to see you smile
as your smile fills voids and open wounds 
of any man with a bleeding heart
your smell leaves trails of scents beautiful 
that flowers blossoms behind wildly

now all i do is write tales about our future love
you and i have leaving all sorrows that tried to seize us
so we shall live to surprise the earth and all its deeds
together walking on thorns without wincing 
nor fear that haunts even battle warriors
thou the clouds and majestic oceans reckon 
the power of patience embedded within us
but the last word that suffocates many is lust

so let me sleep that tomorrow shall shines white
for ours is written beyond walls made by men
but the walls that only few saw the birth of it 
those that saw it first! 
drunk from it and were made kings over life
tills death became greedy of their mighty 

so make my bed the field of love 
lay all the beauty that even ants are so keen to taste
keep me so close to your life as i write to heavens
sleep so that angels comes with the anointing
and blow me kisses that travel through all stars

Copyright © Zakhe Michael Mcunu | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy |

No One Is You

I endure the pang of solitude...the sigh of a forlorn love
Time is no healer, every sand of time brings in moments
I hasten to go- halves with none but You, 
My confidant, my best soul mate
To lose the man I had relied on for so long 
Is utterly devastating...
Never was life bed of roses, 
But all that mattered when you were around
Only you can understand the depths of my pain
Only you can feel my deafening silent tears
People say you left in a hurry... so untrue...!
You're right here in full flesh and blood as me.
You made me strong and I will move on as you
See the care, courage and peace in my eyes
That bejewelled in you... oh yes,
You had all the time in the world to transform me into you
You did leave without a hint, but you were not in a hurry
The credence gets stronger in my heart, 
As I gaze into the eyes of our progeny... yes, 
They look at me the way I used to look at you
Eyes crammed with dream, faith and selfless love
My heart skips some beats that moment
To stand stronger than we had begun.
Ultimately,  I discern that, it is not you who is lost!
You're right here in full flesh and blood as me. 
It's me who is mislaid, lost in search of the refuge called you
When you've  sapped all my tears and heart sunk in mourning
I realize... You're right here in full flesh and blood as me
 I don't need me... I have your job to do
They're your legacy and I will bring them up as best I can
As a leopardess can't change her spots...
so as I remain who I am! 
And you are the Apple of my eye forever!
Whatever I am today has come from you...
I am told, the pain will ease in time...
Time is no healer but I have learnt running along with time!
As of me, my lonely love shall find its way to you !!!

( In tribute to my beloved husband (late) Mr. Zakir Hussain)

Copyright © Hussaina Azgar | Year Posted 2017

Details | Elegy |



Byron’s life was full of fire
Some from passion’s strong desires
Some from temper, child spoiled--
Too much paper--desk embroiled

But he suffered sacred fire
Shelley’s wretched funeral pyre
On strange shores his friend succumbed
Drowned so far away from home

Fighting valiant-- Greeks allied
Keeping paper by his side
Used a fire to keep warm--
Daunting rain that did him harm

After death friends burned B’s words
What a shock if people heard
Thoughts that Byron dared to write
Deeds he carried through by night

Thus his words sung to the flames
Protecting friends from nasty names--
Luck-charmed  chimney to embrace
Ash-thoughts of man so wrong defaced.

Victoria Anderson-Throop   12/03/12 ©
Juja, Kenya   Africa

Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop | Year Posted 2012

Details | Elegy |


                                            SAPPHO’S FALLING STARS     (Part one)

I am descendent of Odysseus
	Hero of the past
Have I kin—I know not—I may be the last--
The Trojan War and Helen made my family's blazing fame
Thus magnified by Homer was made our honor and ancestral name

I stand this day the General of the fallen men that the Fates have tossed
across the Siren Sappho's way—
now foolishly slain-- my Fallen Stars    	 
                      		such a ragged few
                                       in this paltry breath of a moment
                                      			of mere delay--

Inconsequential time in history 
                                                                                          forever lost—

at their honor’s cost

for Mine, a Mighty Name
excuses easily such inconsequential blame
I cannot weep—I cannot pray

                      Such sacrifice of brave men
	              Lifeless , While I stand whole
	               Due to my folly 
                      Sucks the breath stark from my soul

Yarns and lore of Heroes—I know
Babe……. to youth……… in manhood……..
Each far-flung hour, day upon dew-kissed day
Nurtured ever cherished in the sweet talk of the female-breast-kissed way
      	Absorbed sensuous tactics laced with salty woman taste--so learned
	Intimately known as my manhood blossomed

Intimate Initiate—once
You, Sappho, sought my need –-
Intimate follower once—
                                I ate your passion delicious sauced with greed

(part two posted)............................................

Victoria Anderson-Throop  12/18/12 ©

Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop | Year Posted 2012

Details | Elegy |


Bewildered and haunted through flashes of memories that relive themselves
I sit and ponder and look into the sky
there is no pain greater than been lost in SELF
battling with a STRONG shadow called SADNESS
she stalks and haunts and bring you moments of agony
she comes along with her sister ANGUISH
and they taunt you, 
galvanising and pinpointing your mind to the PAST you left behind

OH SADNESS! ! ! ! ! ! ! 
have you not rendered men a roaming wretch for years? 
are you not content with the tears you have drank from your millions of subscribers? 
are you not pained because of happiness and her many gifts? 
when will you leave the vulnerable ones and stop feeding on their weaknesses?
for how long will you continue to taunt MEN with their horrible past and perceived failure? 

You are hopeless and weak and so you feed on people's misery alongside with your heartrending sister called ANGUISH
Leave us alone, 
for we do not want to commune with you
you are meant to die alone, 
but you have garnered so many souls as your followers
reminding them of their most terrible past
conjuring pieces of AGONY
and feeding them with misery's venom
you are a witch SADNESS
and you dwell in the dark
you mesmerise us with beautiful tragedies and allure us into your deep seeking kingdom
run away from sadness
before she infects you with her incurable disease
SADNESS has no home
and so she roams

Ovi Odiete© 2016  All Rights reserved.

Copyright © Ovi Odiete | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy |

An Elegy For Bravery: For the Victims of Virginia Tech

This country defined bravery for the modern world.
Standing tall in the gales of monarchy,
Locking arms against the assaults of autocracy,
Running headfirst, headstrong into battles
For the name of democracy, the right for each man
To speak, believe, live his ways.
But again, we must invent bravery.

Oh, how years can change definitions
Standing in planes to bring them down,
Locking arms to leap from buildings,
Running without thought from a 
Free man’s bullets.

Bravery is necessary for life.
So is courage and selfishness.
In times only we have experienced 
We must have the courage to be brave,
And selfishness to demand it from others.

Copyright © Will Hollis | Year Posted 2007

Details | Elegy |


They return to me the wax
Of the candle I gave;
When I ask for the wick
''We bind our Nation with it'',they plead
They return to me the shaft
Of the kernel I gave;
When I ask for the oil
'' We heal our wounds with it'',they say
They return to me the flesh
Of Rolihlahla Mandela;
When I ask for the soul
''We abide in its shadow'', they vow
Tears now inhabit my eyes
But all like bats they bow
And on their kneels they roar;
Blessed is the tomb in Qunu:
Its wick binds our Nation
Its oil heals our wounds
Its soul our refuge.

Copyright © KAYOD5 Kayode | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy |


You won't transcend yourself, my friend,
but be brave.
Escape illusions and lies.
Does the bird try to flee the air?
Or the fish to leap from the sea?

Watch with your own burning eyes.
You'll dismantle
this core, the same inside and out.
Reach towards yourself
Applauding the pull
to the spinning game.

Feet hopping and pulling the hair,
Try to say no,
and feel
the things you see, beckon,
Around again and back.
hints the way to
and whom to meet. What then?

This is art 
the splash of paint
Live it well.

Copyright © Jamesa Love | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy |

Goodbye Mother - soon a dozen years since demise

Her cremated ashes scattered to all the four winds
White, powdery and chalk like material
Devoid of any vestigial semblance 
To her once living and vibrant self
That unique persona pulverized and vaporized
(Housed former svelte and tall Arthur Murray 
Ballroom dance teacher 
A half-century plus prior to demise
Which beauty, charm and grace 
Quickly caught the attention of my father,
Who courted and eventually proposed 
To this young flirt and ingenue tease of a gal)
Inert organic matter now represents 
Sole residual embodiment 
Reduced to dust and near nothingness
Former corporeal being of blood, bone and flesh 
Weighing no more than 
A dozen hatch marks on the scale
Absence still bears down heavy 
Like some millstone round the neck
Per the black hole void 
Created by defeat with Grim Reaper
Toward this woman 
Who helped birth and nurse me into manhood
Momma’s only grown son 
Still feel ripples of grievous sadness
No matter the years of suppressed anger and rage
In addition to emotional conflicts between us 
Which invariably wrought unpleasant relationship
And a legacy of discord writ large 
Across the tapestry of my life.

Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2017

Details | Elegy |

RIP Police Constable Keith Palmer 2017

RIP Police Constable Keith Palmer 2017.
By Stanley Russell Harris
The new mad author

Who shall we bury today?
Who has been taken away?
Not me yet I’m pleased to say.
So I can write these words today!

As we mourn loved ones lost.
Or friends we knew, in days gone past.
Lost to us but not high above!
Where innocents go to be loved.

Cry not more tears, I beg of you.
Remember me as you should do.
The last time you were full of glee.
Remember that time you spent with me.

We mourn a special man today.
Killed on duty policing I say.
Policing outside our country’s Parliament.
Unarmed on duty in these days of torment.

In heaven, he will surely take his place.
Head held high, with no disgrace.
So when we all pass Saint Peter’s gate.
Don’t be surprised to see his face.

Of course off-duty he will not be.
Saint Peter’s gate is so busy.
Yet all who queue to enter there.
Cause no trouble I do declare.

So when we finally do die.
Shake his hand, will you and I.
For he did not die in vain!
At Saint Peter’s gate he is on duty again.

Copyright © STANLEY Harris | Year Posted 2017

Details | Elegy |

Tiffany and RJ

Giving someone a piece of your heart
Takes trust,  he's special enough to have it
You took a piece of his and held it so carefully 
This love you two had,  you knew was a gift

But he died too soon,  the worst thing to happen
And became the piece of the heart you gave him
Now you hold his heart and that piece he is now
He's in it and you got it back again

To trade that piece for just a moment in time
Would be worth all the stars in the sky 
But to hold on to all the memories is important 
The stories you share make him immortal
All these things that makes his life new

You are such a loving,  caring person
By carrying this grief so long
You might shut yourself down 
Be the light he fell in love with, the song
Fight the fight,  you are a survivor,  sing so loud 
Love him til the day you die like he did you,  stand so proud. 

January 7, 2017

Copyright © Janet Runyan | Year Posted 2017

Details | Elegy |

To Pete Seeger - circa shortly before his death - verse 2

unsure if this epistle (possibly 
coming across as all mixed up)
like some mish mashed verse
ye might arrange and rearrange into a song
living social in the country of upstate New York state
epitomizing spartan holistic existence
somewhere over the rainbow with a hefty purse
exemplifying decades of fame and fortune
that odds on favorite moost did highly rate
your fount of endless lyrical musical
natural playing style auditory tunes ears did immerse
themselves from just one man’s hand
whether newlyweds who did marry a loving mate
or others exhaling their final breath
afore crossing the river of Jordan inside the hearse
while the convoy chants the favorite chorus
abiyoyo with that standard amen for the late
mortal, whereby such preferential fanfare
for said loss of precious friend family doth curse.

little or no great expectations 
(by dickens) feedback
will be forth coming to this average joe
who merely chose to plunk himself down here
and simply let spontaneity take full rein
this spur of the moment ode 
(perhaps difficult to comprehend)
to a fellow you do not know and travel down
a shady lane (more akin 
to a boulevard of broken dreams) in the main
with elusive passion to live in tandem with nature
whereby a garden this dad could hoe
reaping from sweat of thine brow afterward
upon festival of flowers this body will be lain
but the spouse prepared the siesta meal,
and hence now end this rambling poem to go
to ponder all my trials and tribulations
whilst in need to feed this body and brain.


Copyright © MATTHEW harris | Year Posted 2017