Best Rememberence Poems
There is no money in the truth
No fame for all to know your name
Many selling goats and sheep
And the dove collecticeables
Still in these days to gain self praise
And profit from what Jesus done
The truth will strip one down to the core
In giving all glory unto the God
That snatched one from captivity of death
Not looking for a temple built by human hands
But within each one of us
To see none is good are better
Some have been circumcized from old self
While many still running around embracing it
But all have been given same access to unite
To become less of what the world chases after
And more of dying to the these ungodly ways
Sadly the truth might leave many
Feeling alone in this world of corruption
But within there is a fire that gives strength
In rememberence of Jesus trouble to find 12
To bring forth the new covenant tribes
For he even knew they would turn against him
Until they received the inheritance of the
Promised spirit to manifest within
Then they knew He was in them
And the Father He had told about in unity
May God bless, comfort, guide and
Fill you with His peace, love,truth,
Spirit and joy in abundance
My hands look worn, marked by the passing of time,
Of sunlight, cold, heat and work.
They have baked, cooked, gardened and harvested,
They have held the hands of devastated people sitting in front of a casket,’
They have soothed fevered brows, wrapped gifts with a smile on my face.
They have held many pudgy little hands of toddlers learning to walk,
And now hold the hand of my older, stumbling friend.
They are covered with sunspots, but they are happy spots.
A legacy of many bright hours spend in my flourishing garden,
Of romantic walks, of picnics with friends, of games played with children,
And of time spend alone, out in nature, replenishing myself.
My hands, adorned with rings, showing my commitment to my Love,
Carrying my birthstone ring, a present of my Sweetheart,
And in rememberence of my Mom, her favorite ring.
My hands are a mirror of my life.
??Malachi? ?4:5?-?6? ?NIV??
[5] “See, I will send the prophet Elijah to you before that great and dreadful day of the Lord comes. [6] He will turn the hearts of the parents to their children, and the hearts of the children to their parents; or else I will come and strike the land with total destruction.”
John the Baptist how you prepared the way
For the Lord to come fulfill the only way
Giving up His life as a ransom
In love that we might return to God
Given access to a pure heart and mind
That we could come to love all.
That seek you Lord, united in Children of God
In rememberence of who is my mother and brother.
Those who seek the true living God
And, everyone in knowing what all could become
Just in the twinkle of a eye ,
The blast of a wind to sweep away old man.
Oh, Lord how you knew we did not love you
But you loved us that we might receive
The inheritance of the living will
Brought to life by your death and resurrection
That we might die to this world only by your spirit
To resurrect this new spiritual living body
Then we shall know Lord, you are in the Father
And the Father is in you, to give God all glory
That through the Holy Spirit we come in unity
In seeing all different races have become
The Chosen people of God in your majestic ways
For many are called but few responses
??John? ?11:50? ?NIV??
[50] You do not realize that it is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish.”
Even if it rains
in white
snow,
I will shelter
my head
under a black
umbrella.
For the white
storm
that
splattered the
bones of
Nehanda and
Kaguvi,
i will always
dangle a black
pendent.
For the white
oriented
hatred
that
narrowed the
life of Martin
Luther Jnr,
I will smear
this black
powder on
my skin
to dwell in
rememberence
Even if it
pours in red
blood,
I will with
me carry a
black
umbrella.
For the black
dye that was
used
to die the grey hair of our
ageing
fathers for
sale in foreign
lands,
I will not
trade this
umbrella for a
penny.
For all the
fallen heroes
whose names
were never
written on
black
tombstones,
I will always
wear a black
beret in my
heart.
Call me black,
nothing is at
stake.
I take all the
bullets
if the sound
of the gun
keeps the
world awake.
Do not shed a
tear....
...the poem
just did-
Read-the-
poem-ALOUD
If you are
proud to be
black.
Leaves are falling as if it was its last,
but truthfully, its the beginning for a new sprout.
The twigs are talking to say it is time,
but fairly, time is only just a simple human theory.
The whirling wind whispers the name of Death,
but actually, those are just the sound of happy rustling leaves finally being brought away.
Fall; the wonderful season for Halloween
the most wonderful thing to be found here on earth.
Trick-or-treating gives a black toothing,
but the smiles never fades away.
How I'm happy that fall is reaching,
in rememberence of the ones that had lived.
A day of rememberence
a day of joy but sadness
a day of thank you's
a day of memories
Boys who learned to grow up quickly
boys who were whisked away from all they knew
boys who put on their uniform
boys who sharred one thing in common, pride
Men who fought for our country
men who left families behind
men who took their final journey
men who fought for what is now
Soldiers who suffered in the trenches
Soldiers who dodged the bullets
Soldiers who had no salvation
Soldiers who stood proud for us
Heroes who died out on the front line
Heroes who never lived to see this day
Heroes who just made it to D-day
Heroes who were our boys,men and soldiers
A day of celebration along with grief
a day of sorrow along with pride
a day of realistaion
of just how many never returned
from a cold war
boy's,men and soldiers
In the house
of spirit
Fire breaths
at the hearth
An empty piano
plays
tuneful notes
remembered
and now forgotten
Outside
rain splashes
stain glass
this
is colour
warm
wet
sparklets
In rememberence
of what was
what is
Inbetween
warmth
wetnees
colour
tune
merge
with jasmine scent
A collective ambiance
An entity
In thy honour
There are two sides
In the poetry we write
One from the dark
And one from the light
The dark writes of pain
Mourning and loss
A love gone awry
With emotional cost
The light writes of joy
And days in the sun
Butterflies flitting
Or children who run
They dance with abandon
They celebrate life
They don't suffer pain
They don't suffer strife
But the dark always broods
It's the nature of beast
You fight for the most
And it gives you the least
Then comes a poem
That brightens your day
And all of your worries
Just melt away
You read it from start
Through middle to end
It makes you feel good
Like you've found a friend
Then comes another
That drags you back down
Emotional whirlpools
Making you drown
Tears of emotion
Well up in your eyes
Hands of rememberence
Reach up to the skies
It's sad when you read
That we're not alone
We share in the things
That we must bemoan
We rise and we fall
We twist and we turn
We rise from the ashes
After we burn
But the sun always rises
As well as the moon
One greeted by sparrow
The other by loon
The balance of life
Is shared on the page
One by the prophet
And one by the sage
The cycle begins
Just where it ends
But the final score
Is the number of friends
Rockman :-)
I thought I saw Judy Jo just now.
There was a commotion, someone shouted out, then the sound of a fist meeting face and a thud.
She came walking out from the back where the pool table was being bled on by some hapless fool,
Her hair flowing with Medusa-like curls, gleaming with sweat in her tank top with that wiley grin of hers.
Ha! Nobody messed with Jo without her permission.
It wasn’t her though. She’s been gone for all these years.
But thank you, feisty chick in the tank top for bringing that back for me.
An old man needs those moments every once in awhile.
each of us in broken in some form or fashion
be it external or internal we all have our share and ration
the brokeness that characterizes the particulars in our lives
the brokeness that comes in the guise of daily struggle and strife
twenty-nine families became broken on that fatal day
in that West Virginia mine
the sense of safety of New York City was broken when they found a bomb
in that Square called Times
out-sourcing and down-sizing have broken our economy which is now in disarray
the brokeness of Immigration Reform needs to be fixed right away
oil spills, tornadoes and flash floods have broken some communities and lives
but the brokeness of our souls in the Garden of Eden was healed by Jesus' sacrifice
"Take this bread" Jesus said with thanks as He passed it around
"Eat this bread", it's a symbol of My body so that My spirit of peace in you will be found
"Drink this wine" He said with thanks "It's a symbol of My blood"
"Drink this wine in rememberence" that it's you I'll always love
we've been bruised and abused, we've been mentally and physically harmed
but by the stripes on Jesus we've healed and have made it through life's storms
He was pierced for our transgressions and crushed for our iniquities
His sacrifice, His crucifixion so new mercies we would all come to see
God's grace will always be sufficient to cover every aspect of our lives
God's mercy will always be sufficient as it was for His Son Jesus the Christ
we are broken and blessed now ready to give God all the glory
we are broken and blessed and that will always be our story
May, God's love, comfort, peace and joy
Surround you in these days of rememberence
Unto, the day the Son of God was born unto this world
The labor pains of the world to be birthed
For God was giving us a way to return
That we would be given access to receive new birth
In this God's plan would be witnessed
That this Child would be the One to deliver us
Out of darkness a light has appeared
Placed within, one to ignite a fire
Consuming old ways taught of man
Unto, a newborn Child of the Living God
Raised up to life unto our death of past ways
To rejoice every moment
Of the birth of Jesus
That has left His imprint and seal
Unto, the believers heart, soul and minds
The inheritance of the promised spirit
We have to believe in something completely intangible.
Something unseen, heard and only fathomed.
Greater than ourselves, more important than agendas.
The one true anomaly that heals.
It is in this that we are comforted
Our, "It's ok", the cliches that are hurled
at our feelings faces amidst tongue lashings
of Loss for Words.
Oh, how words, when spoken alleviate nothing pertinent,
and stir up everything intertwined with grief.
Believing, NO, Knowing of the greater than thou
And placing such tragedies to rest is cumbersome.
Seems when we should be obtaining,
this "Blind Faith," in said times of turmoil,
...In these times we are the furthest from what
is instinctively engrained in our true DNA.
Nothing worth remembering is ever forgotten
It never leaves, They never leave
They are the wind, the rain, the flowers.
Everything around us is reincarnate.
How blessed they are to have ascended
regardless of age, reason, or circumstance.
The only thing that stands in the way is us.
We must let them leave, smiling with their Clean-Slates.
Celebrate lives, kinships, and memories.
Rever who they were, to us, and to themselves
Forget nothing of Times shared.
Keep them in the pockets of the mind.
Only to pull out and be looked upon
In rememberence of how Blessed
one feels to have known such a being,
and then put it back.
Smile, Cry, Relax
Everything has a purpose
As I and You
We are all but items in pockets.
Staring at the candle light,
remember me,so vibrant and bright.
The smoke it exhales is akin to my soul.
All floating and dreaming,yet distant and cold.
No one can see heat around , flame.
like no one can feel my hurt and pain.
There is blue in that cone of dangerous heat.
The blue in my heart seems to repeat.
I see that shadow dancing round,
a child,a toy and a joy to be found.
The rememberence of me and the death of my heart.
Lonliness picks me apart.
On that wall that shadow is dancing,
all dresses and pretty and wildly prancing.
The flame fires in madness,now she angry indeed
I know who she is now ,and I begin to plead
down on my knees,I beg and I shout.
please dear lord snuff that thing out!
I dont want to remeber a time of joy,
a christmas or birthday..first kiss from a boy.
but even more dont make me remember.
I see it now,the rape in the embers.
I cried your name, my dear dear lord.
did you carry me then, the one I adore?
when he reached for me and drew me close,
that dear lord is when I thought of you most.
Appirition appears to soothe my soul?
surprising calm and not at all cold.
I take it all back I dont want to loose,
this shadow I see to good to true.
Appirition replied;
for you my child on the cross I died
jill frebertshauser
Begin with the end.
Time to rainfall down, kissing mine essence.
In thought. That of thy memories in rememberence.
To branches ascends thy child hood memoirs.
Do you as well, reminisce, in ways we used to play,
as child... I love you old friend. (Tree)
In returning in this form. I love you brother.
To an eternity of thoughts, in thanking you for your
decisions, deciding decider.
Forever living life out in the instances of
a single reflective motion. An eternity in watching.
Insanity driven by dementia, in forms...(demon)
Forever ongoing as the watching watcher.
And in tracking these mappings, I've become
thy keeper of time. The time keeper.
In resolution and resolve, to that the
questionings. All which will, may revolve.
Never in notion of brothers, and ponder.
With wondrous collective thought. I am
in creating a new form. No skin, but
a new covering. With means of manipulations.
To realization of reality, within time cascading.
There, has only been one, in seventh realm.
Divinity? No i'm still in questioning...
3 are 1...No...7 revolves 3.
I am not mine own brethrine for we are one.
To which way in theory of the equation is never ending.
To which I've now become the
mental alchemist. And... in paths passed,
I've killed myself.
It rained down upon me
robed
in ancient grace;
lacing me in conscious life experience.
Gravity extracting the wet from my arms
lingering on my fingers
with gentle force.
The natural law ruled the motion; and
gratefully I was relieved of this persistent rememberence.
I am naked now and
full
of light.
Delicately freed from a thought-created blight.
I hear what the leaves and trees tell me;
as many reach strong in rooted courage.
Some roots are named Blame
and others
Shame.
I hear the maples, oaks, and dogwoods whisper to me....
One said, "Trust in me."
Emperor of the forest,
I hear you clear,
and you, my love,
are not rooted in fear.
This one I climb when the rain comes down
draping me in conscious life experience.