Moon Walk on Your Grave
A life begun in stardom,
now, ending up in shame.
Relentless media, cruel world,
who then is there to blame.
A sadness inside,
no tears on your face.
The pain all but over,
mass confusion erase.
In wonder we watch,
can a life be explained?
Can't surface your agony,
under facade you remained.
Let's focus on the talent,
musical joy that you gave.
In peace now I pray,
moon walk on your grave.
© Rene' Brady 2009
Copyright © Rene' Brady | Year Posted 2009
I stood by your graveside this cold winters day.
A heart broken with sorrow that won’t go away.
I called out your name and shed many a tear.
And hoped in my heart that you would appear.
God took you from us that fine sunny morning.
Our lives now shattered without any warning.
Your work here on earth has finished this year.
Your books and teachings you spread far and near.
It was a pleasure to know you for sixty odd years.
And when my time comes I will have no fears.
You will be waiting to greet me as oft times before.
When I call to your house and knock on the door.
Each night when I lay my head down to sleep.
I will ask the lord your soul to keep.
And if you find any time away from your books.
Look kindly on me as I walk in those woods.
Copyright © Patrick Ronan | Year Posted 2007
My Dad was Chicagoan.
He would light up a room just like my Mom.
He loved to fish ! He loved his beer .
He also designed a Octagon home in the 70's
Built custom by hand . I was very proud of Dad .
Alcohol hit our Family , a curse .
He left my Mom when I was 14 in Illinois.
To renew in California , leaving a trail of tears .
Meeting my step mom , my sisters age .
My 2 sisters they were accepted in her world .
Not I , I looked too much Like Mom . Told this all my Life .
She a petite Beauty , RN , real estate Broker .
I did not see why it was wrong to be like mom ?
I moved in with Dad, His new Wife , and 2 sisters
eventually . All three women were competing for my Father .
I was kicked out at 16 yrs.
Years do pass , you try and accept people places and things .
At the end of Dads life , he was calling me once a week .
I ordered a Engraved Clock for the Fathers day coming.
This was a issue for the Wife and sisters , never invited to his new home , 2 Decades ~My little Brother & I , never wanted .
Dad passed suddenly one sad Spring Day . Not one word from his wife , all 3rd party, how and when, Dad Died . being denied the right to his address , even to say goodbye .
Not being able to send my engraved clock .
"Dad Passed " received call from sister whom just stayed a week with me , I took her all around the sites here . "1st day I get call , you should come , 2nd Day after , Dad's been cremated already . " It was a lie.
I went anyway , finding the funeral home, the Funeral Director was appalled at the denial displayed.
He insisted I was given 10 minutes alone with Dad , my Birthright to say Goodbye , he was in dismay over the Hostility towards a daughter ~
I get to this room of mean relative's. His sisters , Mine, angry looks , hearing from a Aunt "What is she doing Here ! " I can't give nor reason or rhyme.
Shame to you and all that participated that wicked day.
Are you Glorified with Power? Denied the right to grieve ,
Left with no sane answers to give in hatred received by Blood . Some , just Spouses , telling me I had no right to Say Goodbye to my own Father , My DAD .
My Dad wanted me there , I know he did . I love Him and will never forget , his youngest girl whom looked like Mom . I know in my heart and dreams he speaks.
We all see when we leave . May God not allow any Son or Daughter to go through such Evil.
Thank-you Poetry Soup for returning my voice .
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
Beloved, lovely roses: gift of God and lover’s flower,
Spread your colored petals and cradle tender showers.
While admiring the blossoms with their beauty to behold,
Ought we not to know the Tender of such lovely garden groves?
For He lovingly and thoughtfully wields His pruning shears
To cut away the stems of old for fuller future years.
He cultivates and feeds them. He attends them as a Father
Looking daily to their needs; so faithfully He waters.
From the dawn of morning dew until the setting sun arrays
Caring always for His own until that great appointed day…
When the Gardener comes to claim each one the earth held as its own.
He gently picks it at its peak and for His pleasure takes it home.
As God did one glorious morning, when the Perfect Rose had bloomed.
He rolled away the stone and met with Mary at the tomb.
There the sweetest Rose of Sharon rose that we die not alone.
But be gathered for a garden grove, surrounding heavens throne.
Copyright © Tom Valles | Year Posted 2013
Here lies too great gentlemen, father and son.
Named after Edgar Alan Poe, so great a man was he.
But now, alas! They are now where Poe is,
There spirits having returned to God until that Glorious Day.
Copyright © Rainbow Promise | Year Posted 2015
Another rainy Memorial weekend,
there’s no promise of the sun.
I’m sorry for the folks who’d planned
a little camping fun.
But my task will go forward
with umbrella and raincoat.
I’ll get those graves all covered,
if I have to use a boat.
The first one was for my daddy,
back in nineteen fifty three.
I could not know how many more
family graves I’d live to see.
The next one’s for my young husband.
It was dug in sixty two.
In seventy five my darling mother
died and her grave was brand-new.
Tears for a granddaughter in seventy nine
and for a nephew that year too.
In the year of nineteen eighty
my brother followed those two.
Then we had a short hiatus.
It was not ‘til ninety-four
that another brother was laid there.
Then we counted one grave more.
The next year we gathered once again,
when my second husband died.
He missed the sorrow of ninety-seven,
when it was for his son we cried.
Two more years in nineteen ninety nine
my own son was laid to rest..
“If God is trying me”, I thought,
“I fear I’ll fail this test.”
Then He had pity on us
and it was a full decade
before another grave and in it
my great grandson was laid.
Two brothers lie in other grave-yards,
and their stones I do not see.
I’ve been going to this cemetery
each Memorial week since fifty-three.
There are many friends and in-laws
that I must also remember.
I go the rounds with flowers in May
and with wreaths in cold December.
This poem covers five generations
of at least one family member
who has gone on ahead of us
and we bring flowers to remember.
By: Joyce 5/28/ 11
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2011
I do not know?
A mother and father that we share
Doesn't mean you had to care
Being blood is what I thought mattered
But losing mom and dad made our family shatter
Now sister I havent talked to you in years
And brother when I came to you with tears
You turned and blamed my heartbreak on me
You wasn't near so there's no way for you to see
With a list of whys you to put the blame on me
All we share now is DNA and a small hope we'll talk again some day
A day sooner than later beside a grave
Saying things we wanted to say
With tears in our eyes
We will be forced to say a final goodbye
Copyright © Tracey Pollack | Year Posted 2016
Dear brother you were only 22
when the good Lord came calling for you
Water had consumed your last breath
Coroners said was a flashback from heroin and meth
I had always looked up to you
but your verbal abuse made me and the others feel blue
black hair hazel eyes man you look so like Elvis
imitating shaking your hips and pelvis
blisters and sores on your young pale face
oh boy how you had fallen from Gods grace
you had a little girl right after you died
Mom always stood by her and your girlfriend's side
first Grandpa then you Dad Mom and brother Bob
for my life now feels like I've been robbed
missed over 30 yrs of wishing you birthday greetings
now at the dinner table there is limited seating
but every year when your birthday comes and passes
I will be there to pick your grave site overgrown grasses
I wonder what you would look like today
or even if your hair would be full of grey
I have forgiven for all you had done to me
for I hold no regrets so your soul can be free
heres wishing you another birthday greeting
as I lay this card and rose at your grave site's seating
Please give Grandpa Dad Mom and brother Bob my love
for someday I will reunited with all of you above
For now I have my own little girl
for she is my own everyday world
I promise to tell her all about you
and how God will turn you into someone pure and new
Rest in peace my loving dear brother
heres another birthday wish I send in passion smothers
In Loving Memory Of
My Brother Gary
10/ 18/ 48
6 / 5 / 71
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2007
Today is our twenty-fifth birthday, Dear Brother!
We were like-twins born on same date
Fifteen minutes apart
Who knew, you could leave me all on a sudden, Last Year!
By appearance we were alike, but opposite in nature
You were strong, energetic: Me weak, lethargic.
You! Always engaged being busy
Me! Preferred to lie down, being lazy.
In school, playground, everywhere, you acted as my protector
I was pampered by parents.
You took blame covering my fault.
I was all along indebted to you,
but got no scope to repay, only to admit gratitude.
Both of us were attacked by Meningitis.
Weak one survived, strong brother passed away.
Cruel Nature has done unforgivable injustice.
We were entwined for twenty- four years.
Timid backward brother left behind to shed tears!
Now I am a lone fighter in struggle of life,
only to put a posy of flower on your grave!
My Idol! My Brother! Bold and brave.
Since childhood I put my head on your shoulder.
My volunteered guardian! Fifteen minutes older.
My Dearest Brother
Poems that paint a picture 2 Contest by Silent One
Copyright © Anisha Dutta | Year Posted 2017
remember with me
the day that brother fought brother,
the bodies piled high
behind the false security of the stone divisions
drawn through the heartland.
But when the fighting ceased,
all that remained
was a flag on the grave
of every brother slaughtered in the name of unity.
recall with me
the day that we united
in hopes of saving our friends from certain doom.
And though the world was at their aid
to the greatest evil the world has known.
But the tides turned
and the end was reached.
Now all that remains
is a flag on the grave of every friend
slain in the name of world peace.
recapture with me
the day that we fought for our country
but fought in vain.
Time and time again we tried,
be it foul or fair,
but to no avail.
We prayed for our children
“please come home alive”,
all that remains
is a flag on the grave of every son
turn your eyes from the horrors of the past,
look upon the sweet memories of our brothers,
Memories of the days
long before the magnetic appeal of falsely promised heroism
that tore us apart.
The days in which we knew,
despite whatever hardship that might rear it’s ugly head and stumble upon us
from the farthest reaches of the unknown,
these men died for the betterment of the world,
let not the flags on the graves remind you of your lost loved ones,
but rather the sacrifices they made
always for peace.
Copyright © Roltrot Diconline | Year Posted 2009