Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.

Elegy Imagination Poems | Elegy Poems About Imagination

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

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Elegy |

This Mountain Here

I remember the day I got the call.
My world fell apart.
I had lost it all.

I remember the day you were taken from me.
I knew your beautifull smile I would never again see.

They said it was a mugger and you put up a fight.
I should not have  let you go out that night.

It seems like just yesterday we fed eachother our wedding cake.
When I remember that memory my hands start to shake.

I sit in my cabin on this mountain with the sky so blue.
I won't leave. This's where I spent my honeymoon with you.

My family wants me to go back into that world, so cold.
I'm not leaving this mountain.
It's where I'll grow old.

They say your gone and will never again be.
Well, I hear what your saying. Yes, I know your talking to me.

You sit in the chair and drink my tea. 
My heart swells up when you smile at me.

They say I've gone insane and see things that aren't there.
If I'm on this mountain here why should they care?

I love you more then I did when we first found this place.
I remeber everything about you, your ellagince and grace.

Why am I not in that world full of anger and fear?
I want to be with you on this mountain here.

Copyright © Misty Hoot | Year Posted 2006

Details | Elegy |

The Crow

The crow is solemn among the branch,
Staring at nothing but horizons and bark.

The snow capped scene it did surround, in the quiet, sleepy 
and noisy town.

The crow shudders its wings and wakes the snow in a hazy 
Clouded shroud the crow did go

He had witnessed the inhabitants more than he dare see
The abuse, the guile the festering fleas

The rodents of theatre masquerading a foul vigor
In duplicated ego, and whispered intuition. 

He saw the truth he saw the daily lies the grand hypocrisy 
The grand prevail.

They cannot ere another fable the replica of tales repeats 
In ceaseless curiosity. 

He flaps amongst the cold air and feels the rush of europhia 
As he dances with ability, freedom and choice

The crow moves in unstoppable momentum towards the observed horizon 
And behind the orange glow of life. 

Copyright © Paul K K | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy |

On The Road To Heaven { Mom's Elegy }

<                    We are gathered here today to celebrate Bernadine Goerlich's life
                      Though taken from us to soon she has now risen to be with the Lord
                      Do not fret for greif and sorrow shall pass too
                      Let us bow our heads and pray 
                      In thy name of the Father Son And Holy Spirit  {Amen }

                      At the tender age of 70 she lived her life to the fullest
                      Raising a family of 10 she always had an xtra room
                      For she loved her God family friends and her beloved pets
                      And even heard of her always baking cakes cookies pies and italian foods
                      She really must of had her hands full with 5 boys and 5 girls

                      For Lord please cradle her in your everlasting arms
                      Wash away her sins and lift her spirit to you
                      For she has earned her wings of golden tone
                      And  now can rejoiced with her own Father and Mother
                      In God's jubliee Kingdom  Let us pray {Amen]

Entry For
Dr. Ram's
Elegy Contest
G.L. All

In Loving Memory Of Mom
{1934 - 2005 }

Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2010

Details | Elegy |

My Kashmir Burns (Part 1)

I picture Kashmir through lightened KL. News of another massacre darkens my eyes
Winds are thirsty there. They continue to taste the young blood.
I groom myself with exquisite things,
Sipping ice tea in ac room, I comfort myself
And Kashmir burns. Kashmir set ablaze

I can smell the warm blood of beaten corpse
Where from winds bought this smell. Somewhere Karbala reborn.
Mosques are being slammed
There windows stoned. And the black boots leave their footprints on Mimber
Even God judges on evidence
There is one Imaam left now; he hides her daughters in his shadow
A blunt knife in his hands; soon he will sacrifice them to keep their innocence
Kashmir is burning. Kashmir is bleeding
And I write.

Army jeep chases the tracks. To find the associated bodies
They are alive now. Soon they will be dead
From Patan to Sopor, And in narrow passages of nostalgic downtown
Ghosts of curfew
Haunt the houses for young souls.

From the Kupwara cantonments, search lights chase emptiness
Nothing is left now. Search lights can’t see inside the graves
A boy there went missing for two days. His father starts digging his grave.
I put my earphones on and I close my eyes. I sleep
While my Kashmir is ablaze
“It’s me poor farmer’s son. Kupwara’s charm, I feel no pain”.
I see him so alive in my dreams.
He chants songs of Mahjoor from his burnt lips. My hands shiver. He has no finger nails.
I see his smoke tanned skin. Same as that of Khayam’s barbeques
He stands at a distance from me. I can still smell kerosene
“Tell my mother to let her heart become cold. Her heart will not bear my state.
Tell my mother to let her eyes become blind. Her eyes will not withstand my sight.”
I follow him towards his tortured body. He tells me to follow the spilled blood.
His blood has made its own Jhelum. I row on it. Until it gets lost in black boots
The story will turn into legend. I find his body no more.

On the streets silence prevails. Nobody has permission to wail.
Sisters are beatifying coffins while brothers look for stones.
For bullets there will be stones
Kashmir is ablaze. She is wailing in grotesque tones.
In Lal Ded hospital a new born cries: Father register me at cantonment then take me out
Death is recruiting in dozens at a time.
Tomorrow is curfew. Death has no curfew pass.
How they want to identity you. Becomes your identity
People burn up all you identity cards.

Copyright © Muzzaffar Ahmad Shah | Year Posted 2010

Details | Elegy |


Why, when, and did we reached there ourselves??
     When have they become our voices, and spokespersons??
         When kins, religious, and regions become our boundaries haphazardly??
           Why am I behind from time?
             Why am I so dull with fish brain??
               Why are my progress  monitored??
                Why am I given freedom in one hand, and then tied on the other hand as slave??
                 Were is my voice heading, and how can I talk with nukes on my neck??
                Where is the money you promised to keep for me Mr corruption i am Mr fish brain asking??
                Why my brain drain deceive me to abandoned my fatherland??
               Why you aided my abandoning my young pastures for your already greener one??
              Why?. Cause thank God that I am now learning that which is forbidden from me??
            Why and what are these destruction made for, and for whom??
         Why are these knowledge forbidden for me??       
      Why?. When some are producing, and are allowed to test this destruction??
Why can't you come home to feed our pasture? If not our pasture will never be greener??
Old old peom from my secondary schools days. Thank you for reading.

Copyright © Umar Kakamu Aliyu | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy |

My Kashmir Burns (Part 2)

Another son is dead, until five he lived.
For his long life at Shah-Hamdan he had threads tied
“Shehij ninder yee nai. Gahas Kormakh Khudayas Hawale”, his mother cries.
No news can penetrate across the mountains. Satellites work here no more
My Kashmir burns. And no one knows.
An old woman with torn scarf sits besides fire. While feeding her neighbor’s child
She sighs. Is my son dead or alive? She silently cries.
In Madrasa I hear children reciting Quran. A girl’s come out dragging her feet.
I remember her from somewhere. I remember her seeing naked. 
Oh! God she is the one who was raped.

Nights have turned pitch black. My eyes are losing the habit of sight
Midnight soldier’s set another house ablaze. At least there is some sort of light.
Many letters have been written to God. Postcards posted of those raped girl’s 
But its curfew again. No post office deliver’s the message again.
Death comes from everywhere. Close your windows mother
For bullet respects no womb. It turned Gulistans into tombs.
From the plains the visitors come to visit their God’s
They are our only witnesses but hypocrites at heart.
They say paradise is kaasmir. While my Kashmir is ablaze
They testify against us. Is anybody witnessing this? No one at all
Be witness to at least this. Open up your eyes my Lord!

When paradise is painted with colors of hell, certainly divinity loses its grace
In the news the reporter is beaten. Bamboo sticks are hungry for human blood.
Let Kashmir go to hell. A new promise in their portfolio.
Threads have given up at Dastegeer’s place. Even they are horrified at our fate.
In Maisuma boys are dragged by police. They close their dreams, end their screams
In a police gypsy.
Men shape into monsters when they are given right to anarchy.
The gypsy drives them into the dark cantonments. They will remember this day
Interrogation officer comes. After celebrating his son’s birthday.
The winds from the cantonments bring their news
Burned tires around their necks. Burning stoves near their heads.
The knife tearing up their flesh.
And the boys cry, “We haven’t batted yet. Cricket. We know nothing”.

Death wants children to be headlines
Hunger has affected the heavens as well.
Graves are full. No more space left.
We need land of the plains. For our graves.
In the ac car the bureaucrat goes. The mother’s with search full eyes
Ask about their sons they lost. They drink their tears
And he sips champagne.

Copyright © Muzzaffar Ahmad Shah | Year Posted 2010

Details | Quatrain |

elegy eulogy

and all the words congregated somber,
passing observations and glasses around,
and smoked 'em if they had 'em,
and looked woefully at the ground

mentioned how he was so good to them
that he never played any, for favorites
always a mensch, and very gentle too
they all agreed he was very literate 

some words got together in lines
with handkerchiefs and glistening eyes
slowly passing the paged remains
wished his epilogue another reprise

one said, how once he'd looked it up
after a very long absence of use
and prominently displayed its meaning,
written decisively, never misused

another of the first-person singular, 
well-known, of worldly feminine gender
said he'd given her existence a purpose 
and was someone she'd always remember

but now he's written his last retort
they've signed themselves into his book
to be given tearfully to the next-of-kin
and tucked WAY back in some closet or nook

'cause nobody much reads them anymore
no one wants to be made to recall 
that words live longer than their writers
after the author is done with his scrawl

© Goode Guy 2013-08-09

elegy: a mournful poem; a lament for the dead
eulogy: a formal expression of praise

Copyright © Goode Guy | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy |

The Grandfather You'll Never Know

I remember how I cried
The day my father died.
The doctor laid the blame
When he said that cancer came:
Lymph nodes, lungs,
Philosophy of Carl Jung,
Words of explanation
For everything, no blame,
Too late for shame.

The final service was long.
I tried to be strong.
But the stench of red carnations
Can still fill my imagination,
People’s faces,
Words of the Lord’s graces.
Planted in a peaceful lawn,
For the shell of this world is gone,
Yoked into heavenly bliss.
But, when I think of him
There's so much we missed.

I remember how I’ve sighed,
Thinking of my dad with pride.
I’d sit on his knee
My ear to his chest,listening to him hum,
And he’d give me his pennies for free.
He would mow, I’d sweep,
Then we’d have a snow cone treat.
Poles, bait bucket, tackle box,
Days we spent fishing from piers and docks.

Hair black like Elvis’,
Ears and features like Clark Gable’s,
Loud animated stories
Of his oil company job,
At the dinner table.
Fedora, big pleated trousers,
A pocket watch on a chain,
When I close my eyes
I can see him again.

I look in the mirror and can see his eyes,
Staring back at me in an eternal guise.
He didn’t live on to see me grown, 
Missed out conversation on the problems I’ve known.
But his gifts of life,
And his gifts of earthly love
Still ground me on earth,
Angelically guarding and guiding
Like the finest made glove
Existing throughout our human family's
Journey of love.

Copyright © Patrice Lauren | Year Posted 2005

Details | Elegy |


How patched th' universe of star stitched,
bring on earth all gems enriched.

Long ago almost beyond human believe;
pure water ice crusted soft rays and eve,
bloom on the suns largest thieve;

Th' twilight lens, th' sky's fence, 
lustter'd upon earthly living lens; 
to buckle up and tie ones hence,
and show what another can by pence,
lean, embrace what doth sensed;
The twilight lens

Copyright © Talin Kalishian | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy |

Woe of a bottle

A bottle sat on a table and thought;
in me beer is poured all day
no share is given to me
no respect is given to me
they drink and dance
but I am thrown away on the floor
when they are tipsy and staggering
angry ones break my back on the wall
fighting one another for reasons
I know not!
These woes I suffer silently
One day I will rise up
all beer poured in me
all contents forced into me
I’ll vomit and disappear

Copyright © Solomon Ochwo-Oburu | Year Posted 2017

Details | Elegy |

The simple pleasures

If Rocky (aka a black lab )were your teacher, you would learn stuff like this :

When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.
Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.
When it's in your best interest, practice obedience.
Let others know when they've invaded your territory.
Take naps.
Stretch before rising.
Run, romp, and play daily.
Thrive on attention and let people touch you.
Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.
On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.
When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
No matter how often you're scolded, don't buy into the guilt thing and pout.... run right back 
and make friends.
Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.
Eat with gusto and enthusiasm.
Stop when you have had enough.
Be loyal.
Never pretend to be something you're not.
If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.   
RIP Rocky

Copyright © Julie Kinsley | Year Posted 2009

Details | Elegy |

End of the road

                    My heart melts when I think of that day
                    The day my name will be called but
                    I will kept mute.
                    The day when my body will lie
                    So lifeless that they will cry
                    Those that love me so much.
                    And they will rejoice 
                    Those that hate me so much.
                    The day they will follow me to the boundary
                    And say a very solemn goodbye to me
                    With a sorrowful last respect
                    And they will turn their backs
                    Leaving me to face my path all alone.
                    The day I close my eyes 
                    And will be unable to open it.
                    My fame and successes will stay behind
                    As I go there in my whole form.
                    The day when all I did will live to speak for me
                    Either good or bad
                    They will continue to reign
                    Even when I am not.
                    The day all will end
                    My pains and sorrows
                    Will all com to an end.
                    Also my joy and happiness
                    They will all end, all I did and had.
                    My heart bleed when I think of that day
                    That day, that will be the end of the road.

Copyright © ADEDAYO MICHAEL | Year Posted 2011

Details | Elegy |

Infinity's Voice

Solitude of eternity
Permeates both living and dead
Dawn rises…dusk falls…dawn rises 
The cycle of day and night continues
Only knowing apathy’s companionship
Realization beyond fingertips clutch
Always upon the gusting winds of time
As death claims His prey yet again
Within that final rasping of breath
That hot abrupt moment of nothing
A cyclical repetition 
And the song of eternity’s solitude
Begins…yet again

Copyright © Charles Fuller | Year Posted 2007

Details | Elegy |


Sparks like a bright light lit, from his tortured heart,
shone through.
The weariness of a lost soul that carried a flame 
through the wind.
Rashness in his speech.
For giving and forgiving.
Here his alms.
Here his family.
For giving and forgiving in deathly rain.
Meeting in the quavers of silence, which time carried.
A charter oak tree.
In a lions den.
Engrave on it the date.
From the Liberty Bell I hear no ring.

Copyright © Joni Gerech | Year Posted 2006

Details | Elegy |


Flowers of spring, fields and trees of green
roll like waves at high tide across the pasture
but in time the Moon has turned aside Her face,
and the tide recedes to expose a barren plain.
Now midnight, moonless sky, the roaring of the sea
are my friends on a long and lonely beachwalk
soft sand does sift through my toes, cooling
what fires my heart has kindled in another life
yet one smoldering ember inside still, still refuses to die.
Where is the rain, God, you see the smoke!
Do you know what torture does this evil candle to me,
sheltered from wind by the deadwood of memory!
Oh temporal clouds, you are nothing to the
Immortal sea! Never could you douse a flame that will not yield!
Nay! I shall drown it down within Her, the endless Deep,
though the ship sink with it!

Copyright © Jesse Jones | Year Posted 2007

Details | Elegy |


 As the wind begins to howl ,
and the trees begin to blow.
You walk a little faster,
cause you already know.

 The steps are at a distance,
but getting closer now.
Still you know that something,
smells a little foul.

 You hear the wolves a howling,
the leaves begin to crack.
You just sit -n- focus,
and try to stay on track.

 Your mind begins to wonder,
as your looking left to right.
 All the things that could happen,
on such a darkened night.

 The moon is full and grey in tone.
All at once you hear a moan.

 It gets a little louder,
every step you take.
Still you know that somethings,
just a little fake.

 Your heart is beating faster, 
as you begin to sweat.
The palms on your hands,
are feeling rather wet.

 The color of your skin,
is that of ashy white.
The lump in your throat,
is just a little tight.

 All at once you stop.
It's time to face your fear.
But when you turn to look.
It's you that's in the mirror.

Copyright © gilberta kime | Year Posted 2007

Details | Elegy |


Nothing is moving,
The wind is standing still.
Moss is growing quickly under my tattered feet.
Raindrops are silent and cold.
The sky is dark and cold.
Ice is frozen on tree limbs.

Copyright © norman geary | Year Posted 2006