Grave Beautiful Poems

These Grave Beautiful poems are examples of Grave poems about Beautiful. These are the best examples of Grave Beautiful poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Epic |
~ATLANTIS~   Featuring:) Kelly Deschler

Can't be re-written by the Gods
The land and sands of time'
Destroyed by the fire of Poseidon's curse 
Atlantis swallowed by: Earth

In one day and one night
Peaceful existence met its end
Built on a volcano, now surrounded by ancient rippled tears
Lava stripped apart the rich and glorious empire
Enriched by Engineers and Architects whom loved power more than the Gods 
Forgotten souls, sheltered by a watery grave
History withheld from shallow sunken memories,
Western sky's hide the truth, a vision from the Pillars of Hercules
"An island situated in front of The Strait of Gibraltar"
Ghostly ruins wait to rise above the Mediterranean and Atlantic Waves
A magical island held down by the hands of death, 
Atlantis lost city walls ---a secret hidden by mermaids
Partially buried, beneath the ocean floor it lies
The largest sunken treasure never to be found
Magnificent pillars of an imperial palace still stand
Somewhere hidden under ancient sand
Some are leaning against turrets, that toppled after the impact
Nothing human will ever inhabit these walls
No feet will ever touch these staircases, again
Only an eerie silence now resides here, with the blue-green waters   
Seaweed grows along it's outer walls, like ivy on a trellis.
Obscuring it even further from the human eye.
Other ocean tides will never compare
Tantalizing blend of fantasy and mystery
Stone walls covered with precious gems
 -Listen to PLATO'S voice-
"Look close, Look close, into the sea!"
Through the light and Pillars of Hercules
Some where out there buried in the vast 

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

Details | Alliteration |
-Eden's Ending Eulogy-

Proceed here today, Eden's Ending Eulogy 
Gentle gracious her garden, the guidance 
I can't recall what was with the warm, sincere smile, and sunrise 
Lost at ease and clarity.......I Sleep! 
Forever In Peace, this dark, damp den, coffin will do
at last, a parting powerful, reunion and resting resort


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
I flew alone in the white winter night
Cold winds and ice deep within my weary fright
In the night my mind in the darkest of dark
Death was close, close to my lonely heart
The tomb at the ready
Even falling apart
Some would say this is fine art
Or better yet Art at his finest…

Wrapped in winters black roped plaque
All I wanted was to lie down and rest
In peace and upon a widows breast
For then we could know each other
Pains shared, blood expressed
Oh Cassandra 
You are an angel divine
Winters mist and love sublime

Umbrellas to shield us from our earthly fears
Of natures whims and weather so ghastly grim
I turn my head, staring into the past
Your breasts of life make me gaze on back
When I was the raven
Flying noble and high

Now all I see are empty dark skies

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
We have heard it said before
That the soul beats on 
Long after the heart has tired in its mortal labor

Where will our songs go
After the grave has subdued its cries?

Angered, silent ghosts will drop a glass
And never hear it's shatter...
How much more to them than broken glass,
Will you matter?

Remember this before your first exit:

There will always be those that will hear the music,
Beyond your days of breath
Only special ears in tuned with the earth,
And its universe he and she will see in all its shamelessness

Sing on!
Sing on to those you know will hear
Let never your soul be mute
Long after those special ears, tongue, flesh, and eyes
Close to rot

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2017

Details | Haiku |
The wound       (Haiku)  2014

A deep gaping hole
newly covered with scar flesh
a cemetery

the reflective pond
the bright thirteen year old trees
the lost souls still there

the money-men charge
fees to visit our worst time
Ah, America!

check out my blog for more Haiku and 9.11

Copyright © Trisha Sugarek | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
Gazing out upon dusky barren moor,
Where gray grass grasps the air
Finding no purchase but sad allure
Straight stalks elapse their endless despair.

Teased by tales of golden reach
Tricked by gales, whose song they preach.

Redtail’s velvet wings breach the sky,
Maroon lips who kiss the grass
Stirring the song, its desperate sigh
Catching the words, her beak of crystal glass

Behind her, midnight shadow draws
Fells her beauty with unseen charcoal paws

Scarlet tears dampen the earth below
Nurture the roots held by dusty truth
Finally, the wind, gray grass’ will bestow
The hawk once, now the fountain of youth.

Litany of silence reigns in dusky glare,
Each blade bowed in mournful prayer.

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dramatic monologue |
Hi. If you are reading this letter, then i know my wife has chosen you. This is to serve as my last writing directed to you after my death. Please note she has never read this letter. I would like to welcome you and thank you for choosing her over all the beautiful women in the world. I hardly know you but I'm willing to trust and respect your presence in her life and that you'll bring nothing but joy. Strongly i hope you feel exactly the same as she does, after all she chose to give you this letter. No one can replace our love, but that does not mean you should build a bridge between my past life with her. Do not attempt reshuffling her heart, empathy, sensitivity or replacing what i planted in her heart. Our tree of love will continue growing. Please take good care of her heart as it’s not billable. 

Her tears of joy are always ready to explode. Every night has been a page in our love book. So please do not change the theme as you will be forced to adjust the ending. I so much wanted to continue writing our book but i had to off ramp my journey with her as the cancer was forcefully blocking my way. She doesn't know that. My fingerprints on her smiles never got damaged and the footsteps i wrote on her body never sounded fictional. If you look at the corner of her lips she owns no dark secrets. She gets rewarded for every risk she puts her family in. Her wheelchair has never had a flat tire, but if it does please contact bible services on psalm they fix everything. 

What i noticed is that she loved checking up the Christianity call centres within the bible phone book. The numbers will never change, only agents do so keep encouraging her to make calls. She used to randomly open the book and choose a page with her eyes closed. Even though she sometimes looked lost she always found the right pages. I hope it’s not too much to ask, but please allow her to visit on our birthday and that's every three days before the New Year. That is the only time i could turn to the other side on my grave. Plus the funeral cover promised us non of its pillows in my coffin. Do not make yes an answer to every call made by my parents. We owe them nothing, infect i haven’t spoken to them in ten years. 

With all that said she will blow your mind if you let her.

Thank you

Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
A full moon night to my delight what is so wrong with doing what's right nothing is right after so long no use in complaining time to move on The Dream Water one day might take me away farther from the comfort of familiarity I float on my back then shut my eyes my body now sinking into ocean arms open wide Now swallow your son back to his nature when he is no longer needed to stay here the next generation are dooming themselves they need my experience to guide them through hell Why should I bother on my own, I strive through I turn my back on the thought of bothering to save you alone in this world my, is it spacious I'm finally smiling, never so gracious.

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic monologue |
Her father’s grave was at the top of a hill overlooking hundreds of other plots with vases full of colorful poinsettias, white carnations, and decorations. Her name was Linda and it was Christmas time. She could see the beautiful arrangements everywhere she turned. The cemetery sat on top of the rolling hills overlooking the street. The backside was lined with large green poplar trees and grass that needed to be mowed. This was a peaceful place she thought to herself. This is how it should be for everyone who is in Heaven.  

She came to visit his grave every Wednesday evening after church. She liked to see the plot at night with the luminaries shining brightly. This time she invited her Aunt Sylvia to join her. It was Sylvia’s brother who was buried there. “See Sylvia”, Linda said, “Isn’t this splendid?” Sylvia replied, “Yes. But, I do not feel comfortable here. You do not know if all these souls went to heaven. And, if they didn’t where are they now?” Linda looked all around and at her father’s beautiful site and said, “With all this beauty, how can there be anything but goodness, here?” Sylvia shivered and responded, “Like I said, not all souls go to Heaven. You need to come during the day.” Linda laughed, “You’re not serious. This is a beautiful place. And, especially at night with all these beautiful colors.” Sylvia quickly responded, “It’s time to leave.” Linda, a little annoyed, said “Alright, alright.” And, they got into Linda’s car, and she drove Sylvia home. Very serious, Sylvia said, “Promise you will only go to the cemetery during the day.” Linda just shook her head.

The following Wednesday evening after church, Linda pulled her car up to her father's plot. She noticed his flowers were missing. So, were his luminaries, and Christmas decorations. She immediately called Sylvia. “Hi, Aunt Sylvia. It’s Linda. Have you been to my dad’s plot? His flowers and decorations are missing?” Sylvia retorted, “No, its evening time and a full moon. You should not be there. You NEED to leave!” Confused, Linda asked, “Why, what’s wrong?” Sylvia screamed, “Look around, are there any other flowers missing?” Linda, slowly turning around, noticed there were no flowers or decorations in her vision. Yelling and afraid, “Aunt Sylvia, there all gone!!! I’m running to my...” And, she was gone. Vanished. Sylvia, still on the phone, “Linda, Linda?"

 Sylvia was right, not all souls go to Heaven.

©Holly P. Moore
   November 2012

Copyright © HOLLY MOORE | Year Posted 2012

Details | I do not know? |
Watching the sequence of sound coming out of your mouth...
But the screaming is too loud.
I can speak,
But my brain doesn't want to.

I closed the door.
Silence called for me.
Should I cry or should I run after her?

What have I done to you?
but love you uncontrollably.

Shes then left speechless.
It looks like shes out of breath,
but really I broke her.

She was fragile.
So innocent.

Run, Just run.
A gun raised..
up to her mouth.
And a taint on her heart.

Copyright © Lidija Vresk | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric |
Lets get down to business,
Imma bout to quit this as God as my witness,
Coming back from class, in one of my civics
The next tree I see, Sh*t I think ,I'm gonna hit this
But my stick shift did not shift, now i sit in ditches 
this is 600 dollars that I don't have to fix this
I guess I'd admit this, cause I'm done with sickness
Of the mind, see I've been, out of mine,
Half an hour, in the shower,
Praying some evil power,
Doesn't come through my spine,
Looking like Bill Cowher,
As I cower from the scour,
Like a clam becoming chowder,
I'm a coward devoured,
By all these damn thoughts,
That keep getting louder,
Burns like whiskey sour, 
So pale, I went from me being green,
To cauliflower.

Copyright © Mike Conway | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |
Give me something I that I can hold on to
If I am to lose you now
My heart will implode from desperate sorrow
We promised to be there though to the end, it was an eternal vow

Can you stay? We know we need each other more than ever
I would have you close to protect and always keep you
But you’re slipping away and changing, that hurts the most
You’re not mine however, so what am I to do

It breaks my spirit to have you not know my heart
I should have told you how I still feel it all
You need to know how this wrecks me endlessly
I put up my guard yet over and over in love, I continue to fall

All the shoulds, coulds and woulds
And the past that I can’t change, that is what I would in a second trade
I trust you most and I think of you incessantly
But I find you fading away, what a mistake I have made

You drift closer to the end of your days to leave me behind
Sadness fills me because I cannot follow and time was wasted
Why was I afraid to put my heart in your hands?
Now I cannot be with you and my despair at that cannot be overstated

You look right through me as you lay resting in your bed
It is you I need the most and you know
You have been all I wanted all this while
And today I cling to your hand, as my love continues to grow

When you are gone, I will remember your smile
I will crave your bright glow
Your aura that is irreplaceable and I will find it in no other
I will think of you forever and for all my days it will show

Copyright © Bongisa Grey | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
My heart is beating once again!
Call Archimedes from his grave so we may celebrate!
Eureka! I found it again!
My heart’s pain has gone away!
My life’s darkness has lifted away!
Stark in the middle of the wilderness I have regained the way!
Oh! How beautiful it is to see and feel me back on my way!

Eureka! I found it again!
Call Archimedes from his grave so we may celebrate again!
Writing literature in my dreams,
While praying for success in my sleep!
Writing poems in my head while strolling ahead!
Painting masterpieces in my head while bathing at midday!
Seeing tomorrow today while it’s still too much work away!
Oh! How beautiful it is to see and feel me back on my way!

Copyright © Wiseton Prins | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |
It overwhelms us
Passion is impulsive and possessing
Passion is reckless, yet it's benevolent at the same time
When passion ripens like sweet fruit it's love; but, when it's like bitter poison it's hate

Between love and hate
There appears to be a big difference 
But, there's no difference they're the same in every single way
The method in the way that they're used is what makes the feign contrast seem to exist

Passion is a thriving garden
That is flourishing with life and beauty that is ambient 
Passion is a cemetery 
Filled with agony and covered in dried roses and briars

It will consume us
Will it make us vulnerable or weak?
How will we use our medium passion; will it be belligerent or peaceful?
Love and hate is a part of something we don't understand, will it kill or save us?

Copyright © Trevor Barnett | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dramatic monologue |
         Days with Age 

 Three view sides of  a
 Three  hidden wishes of 

  Childhood view side flashes
  With radium towards the dream of 
  Life by  making the cake to learn 

  Adults cut  the ribbon of second 
  View of cube with faith, responsebilty,
  Love  of  their dreams and which creates 
  A new  culture in a living society 

  With the  dignity to sleep peacefully on 
  The bed of third View side of cube 

  One soul one cube end with 
  Ashes of  days in life 

    Days with Age 

With love all 
Jagdish bajantri

Copyright © jagdish bajantri | Year Posted 2017

Details | I do not know? |
  It's been a year, three months and twenty days, since we said our first hello. You took my breath away.   
It's  been a year, two months and twenty three days since you asked me to be yours. My heart was yours.  
  It's been a year and four days since you took me on our first and last road trip together. So many laughs, Tears and kisses we shared that week. 
    It's been ten months and twenty-one days since I've felt your touch, felt your lips against mine and against my skin. You made me burn with passion and you seemed not able to get enough. 
   It's been Ten months and nineteen  days since you've told me goodbye. Told me I wasn't enough for your love. My heart had shattered.  
    It's been three hundred and twenty three days, forty-six weeks and a day and ten months and nineteen days since I've been okay. It's sad how I'm still picking up the pieces. 

Copyright © Megan Johnson | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
The remnants of once laid footsteps oppressed my memory,                                                                       Everywhere I traveled I would see memories of people that were once there,                                                                 Disappear.   

The memories were alluring, agonizing, and amusing,
The kind of moments that you never forget,
No matter how old you get.
I began to wonder as to how many people have walked in that same exact spot before,                                
But then my imagination would start to run amok,
All the history that occurred on a small scrap of land,
All that piece of land has witnessed and how many memories it holds.

I began to lose focus on my own life,
Everything I did seemed to lack purpose,
I tried, I tried, I really did,
But it was if I was powerless against these memories.
Staring out of a window of a moving vehicle you begin to notice patterns,
The schedules of different people that play out every day,
And I start to wonder if the ground knows us better than we do ourselves.
Soon I began to realize that as humans,
We can never understand the full extent of the world as well as the ground we place our feet on,
And the footsteps we once laid.


Copyright © Sarah Shehata | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
Love is an invigorating journey.To rehabilitate what is submerged beneath. A way of healing or simply reducing the pain. The rescue team to all the questions of the world. So rare, what rich blood we have, for an unbreakable bond is forever together and shall never be unbroken. the impossible has become possible when i am with you. A smoke so high between us, it fills my lungs with menthol and textures so smooth and pleasing, the smoke as high as our souls as you lift me, for the good and forever, heaven shall rain upon us as we fall to the beautiful grounds of earth where we will find dirt and soil, for we shall plant a small seed and watch it grow as humanity seizes to know that we are creating something beautiful and invincible. our flare in the dark is so vigorously raging, for the torch has been lit between us. An untamed fire has started in both of our hearts, for we know what we have created, humanity and hope. An impossible breakthrough has been broken.

Copyright © Un Known | Year Posted 2017

Details | Light Poetry |
In the mountains, 
where the berries grow;

Hides a treasure, 
some friends may know;

Among the summer flowers’ leaves,
Are golden treasures such as these;

If I could choose where I will lie,
When it is time for me to die;

Then let it be a quiet place, 
That these fair beauties yearly grace.

Copyright © SE Harvey | Year Posted 2014

Details | ABC |
Oh beautiful lady-daughter of the earth-
help me in my solitary hour
with your warm love and  
sense of compassion.

A time dark as a river-
a wound confused and weeping
encompass's the root of my soul
biting the center of my life-

What a heavy throbbing beats in my heart
like a shadow made of all the shadow's-
my despairing head is raised
in an effort of death-

There is something trembling in my life
growing in the very origin of tears
like a harsh-spiked plant made of 
bitter root's devoid of all light.California Blue

Copyright © Gordon wickstrom | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |
We made the base for the grave out the farm, 
Where our dad can now rest his head
Forever more, in his favourite spot, 
The place of dad’s harmonious bed.

We mixed the buckets of water with concrete, 
Then shovelled this to the square,
Levelled flat with rake, trowel and a spade, 
We let it harden up in the air.

It’s on top of the hill, with a beautiful view of the farm, 
A peaceful spot with the sheep,
A peaceful place where the birds sing all day, 
And dad can now peacefully sleep.

We made a base for the grave out the farm, 
Using concrete, bricks and stone,
Where dad can rest, forever more, 
And we can visit him each day, all alone.

Copyright © Lewis Raynes | Year Posted 2017