Best Ceremony Poems
We Are One
Dear Ancient Sister
I hear your distant calls finding me on a gentle breeze
You have lived in my dreams for many seasons
My voice
Your voice
My soul
Your soul
And our Coming of Age
I have always known you...
I have heard your
Quiet whispers echoing in
The night coming close to me
I call to you ...
Let me be a part of your breath
I have always known your wounds and sorrow
I see the light and magic in your eyes...
The pain you carry so eloquently
I see your reflection in the clouds above
Carrying your soul wound on your sleeve
I see the deep crevasses and lines
In your grandmother’s hands
I hear the secrets beneath the earth of
Your grandfather’s footsteps
I see your reflection in the twilight
Of the evening... against pink watermelon hills
Your voice beckoning me onward closer to you
I see you in the moon and stars
Your buckskin dress adorned with
Ceremonial beads
Abalone shell against your forehead
The dirt beneath your moccasins
Grateful for the kiss of your dancing feet
I hear the echo in the distance of songs
The Elders sang...
During their passage here
You are born into a woman
Before my eyes and heart
Before your tribe
Before nature
A wise new feline
A mystical power with endless allure
A force that lifts and unites us all
As one
Your rays blessing us and leaving
A welcome imprint on our hearts
My Ancient sister
I drink in your wisdom and grace
I fly on your wings
You have shown me your world
Watching you dance
Becoming you for moments in time
Your silhouette etched by
The wild flames behind you
A glow radiating into
The night sky
The stories of your Ancestors
Filling the air with
Words and lessons and song
Notes sung into clenched fists
With bloodstained hands
The children and animals
Sensing all that was
And all that will ever be...
The call of a distant bird
The thumping of your cane on
The hungry earth
Keeping time with
The movements of your body
You will look back on this
Day as you walk with the
Same cane down the path of
Old Age...
Your wisdom
Cupping your heart gently
Ancient Sister of mine
I am in gratitude for
Your strength and courage
The kiss of your words and
The teardrops of your loss
Susan Lawrence
Copyright 2020
Original Artwork
Susan Lawrence
There is a sombre silence,
as mist veils morning air.
A plethora of feathers
float among dew drops.
A ceremony of birds,
heads slumping,
soundless and homeless,
perch upon rooftops,
observing fallen nests,
cracked eggs and
lifeless nestlings.
Arrival of their fate
is like paper in a storm.
But birds don't ask why,
they just spread their wings and fly.
>>>
cavorted about as elfin brides
under a saffron maple tree^^^^
Dressed in prism-hued layers
of chiffon in ethereal shimmers
and delicate silken gossamers
They having their group wedding in the fall
And fairy folk bustled about all round
as flimsy and flighty as they could be
while henna leaves fell upon the brides,
>>>>> in ceremonial nuptial
An autumn's breezy ritual>>>Branches denuded
Yet autumn's august>>>
in honey fallen maple leaves as well
>>>>Playing hide'n' seek
with browny brownie grooms
also camouflaged in the heap...>>>
( beautiful quote 7)
Standing tall dressed in regalia
twenty-one gun salute detonates
a lump lodged deep in my throat
combination pride sorrow and so much more
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
When someone first dies and leaves us,
It’s hard to lift that sense of gloom,
When their body is no longer with us,
But their presence still fills the room.
But within our treasured memories,
We can recollect their smiling face,
For in our heart-of-hearts we know,
They are now in a much better place.
She trembled in anticipation
Dressed in white the perfect bride
She was surrounded by people
Who nodded and who smiled,
They were all apart of creating this ceremony,
Even though she did not want this,
Even though she was under age,
The marriage ceremony and this bond
Had been created well beyond
Her power to control or resist,
She was here Powerless
And if she had run
And if she had hid,
Her family would have paid the price for it,
They would have to live, a life of shame
She could not allow this in her name,
Her groom who was so much older
Went to great lengths to let her know that,
There was no choice
And no way out,
Of this fact she had no doubt.
So married she was, though under age
Another victim of legalised child abuse and no doubt rape,
All of this against her will
No chance to appeal,
Or show her rage
It's a ceremony of shame.
I imagine attending a colorful graduation ceremony at the college or university.
After attending my mind is stuck with a lot of queries:
Would graduates cultivate in themselves attributes of entrepreneurs,to think outside the box?
Were graduates tipped to be innovative, self-motivated, willing to take greater risks in
their fields?
Would graduates go into industry to add value in the economy sector,after being equipped with suitable skills?
Could the skills they have acquired be able to sustain them and support their families
with or without formal employment?
Would graduates narrow the skills gap that has existed in the industry?
Did lecturers expose graduates to both technical and entrepreneurship skills during
their training?
Would graduates be entrepreneurs who will constantly create and grow business ventures,thereby creating employment and incomes in the economy?
Could graduates embrace the intelligence of the labor force,and start running viable growth-oriented ventures as a career alternative?
Could they survey key industries,organizations,family and friends already in business ventures?
Would they start up their own business ventures,provided they have access to support and other requisites?
Could graduates blend various fields with entrepreneurship sustainability to overcome unemployment levels?
Could graduates separate what's important from what's irrelevant to make
achievement in life?
Could they be confident, pro-active,decisive and energetic in their endeavors?
Would they be hardworking,firmly decided,continue in spite of opposition or difficulty,
and have the ability to see clearly?
chipepo lwele
*Dedicated to granduads
A dancer; "Doctor"
I was an Olympian;
great ceremony!
AVA!
He calls out.
AVA!
He mightily calls out.
A ceremony for guests,
A ceremony for society.
The groomed formality,
The unity,
The shared mount.
AVA!
He calls out.
AVA!
We welcome.
AVA= kava drink / welcome ceremony
Aeilnnorvy.S
watching people bask
in the warmth of
their own glory
award ceremony
The athletes marched in waving flags,
All decked in matching clothes.
In all of the Olympics,
That’s the way it always goes.
Some countries showcased dozens,
Others had but one or two
And two hundred thirty proudly
Wore our own red, white and blue.
As medals are awarded, though,
There’s one thing that’s for sure –
And that’s the fact that many nations
Will be medal-poor.
There are eighteen like Zimbabwe,
Paraguay and Mexico,
Who have just one single athlete
To compete in Sochi snow.
Still, they all looked thrilled and hopeful
As the games prepared to start;
Though they can’t all take home medals,
Getting there sets them apart.
We will on that long awaited Saturday of October
at a ceremony graced by men of great stature
be officially declared victors in academics
We will take a well-rehearsed parade
towards the podium where we will shake hands
with professors and be crowned
with titles no one can ever take away from us
Oh fellow graduate, do you recall those times
when we were often in helter-skelter situations
scurrying on pavements
with heavy bundles of books;
heavy with unsolved problems?
We fell sometimes; yes we fell
but we dared to rise and regrouped our focus
and now we shall wear those gowns,
we shall wear those clothes tagged success
and shoes free of dust; proud of ourselves
For we eyed for this titles
we eyed for them with determination
and now we have them in our own hands
and no one can ever take them away from us
Bojosi Ditshwele ©
For the University of Botswana Graduation ceremony held on the 12th October 2013
Published on the Echo newspaper; 10-16 Oct 2013
CRISES IN THE DESERT
written in the effect of religious crisis in Nigeria
Our heart received the message
And tensions well-positioned themselves in the sky.
Heads sought refuge at army barracks;
A world of agony was about to loom
Who cursed that Friday noon?
When the serpent’s deceit erected citadel
Of hatred in peoples heart
The same blood in different capillaries
Rebelling against each other's idealism.
Who could whisper cross?
When star, hung on a sickled-moon dominate our faces
And a thousand songs in Arabic slang marched nearer,
Muslims commandos camouflaged by white gowns;
Armed by guns, arrows and cutlasses.
Alas! the ceremony of blood-bath began
And cry of slaughtered Christian children
Opened the ceremony
And mass-grave gave them merits.
Like sickle on harvesting rice;
Flying cutlasses upon human heads.
Dwarf daggers visited intestines
Smoke-bleeding churches, weeping altars
And smiling blood-dripping heads of ecclesiastics
Danced conga in broad-daylight.
Battered bodies, burning houses and tattered businesses
Were all in attendance..
Demons of despair, agony and hunger
Later paid their tributes.
Prophets of economics later prophesied
That more worms will lick our bellies
written in effect of religious crisis in Nigeria
Tea leaf powder brewed
Token stream of tea devolves
Cyclye of life flows
Reincarnated grains bind
Nouveau palates sift huskings
Visual effects of glares paint deliberate scores of idleness-
Broken from silence
and broke in to pieces
I feel myself sinking
Slipping Away
Breathless I'm choking
In your blood I am soaking
Provoke in me loathing
Exploding
Corroding
I feel my soul shrinking
AS I GIVE IT AWAY!!!
Iniquity in me
All is crimson what I see
I bid you less mercy
As I beg of you "Holiday"
Standing on Ceremony
My Greed and my Pride
My Wrath gives me
Lust in Me
Want in me
Died
Placed Black Roses on my Grave
Contest-- My Significant 2021 Poem. BY Beata Agustin 1-25-2022
3rd Place