Encomium Poems - Poems about Encomium

Encomium for cumulative collection of trash The pyromaniac within yours truly beckons sacrificial ritual mine burning (man's) sacred plastic bags of rubbish (comprised of: hairs combed, ditto trimmed from dead head, filthy lucre - ha, phlegm wrapped in tissue paper, snips and snails, and puppy dogs' tails), awaiting flame thence said materials reincarnated into sooty ash no matter such fiery rhetoric would be deemed illogical or brash, cuz I would...

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Excerpt from “fake” encomium given years ago... at Lake Wobegone High School (my alma mater), and recently discovered ridiculous rough draft amidst plethora of junk emails while practice reading some lines regarding Midsummer Night's Dream upcoming performance. Arch back like a professional ballet dancer to stand out from other pedestrian applicants seeking to fill my well-worn shoes. Illuminate your...

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Son of a demon and a witch, Fighting against harbingering the apocalypse. The Right Hand of Doom against Heaven's sake... Accompanies this young boy and his pancakes. Born from Hell, In which he will twice return; A reputation of honor and respect, Is one he would earn! Goblins, ghosts, ghouls and golems; Godly and ungodlike all to confront... Now an honorary man and a Bureau, Guarded...

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He has a Roman nose, bright eyes, flashy teeth, Chocolate brown complexion, Features which animate only when he interacts— Otherwise, typical unscholarly looks! A nonconformist in religion, a revolutionary in spirit, A stoic in practice— Epithets can be multiplied. Sought strange experiences: Travelling in a locomotive, Witnessing a surgery, Learning math on his own. And living on a glass of lassi, Which I would call starving! He speaks...

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At that hour the breeze turns around. The fishermen are coming back with hands splintery, without lips, with eyes of stone. The bottom is empty like a bottle at midnight. The shore is there where somebody’s waiting. They’ve sleept for a long time. Dreaming. With hands locked together. He, the wind, the last one an...

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No towering, flowering landlocked tree Will weep for the waning life of thee Forgive them, friend, they never saw you smile Forgive them, friend, they never saw you smile To mistress maritime were you married For her you lived, so to her be buried Below the surface of sorrowful sin Where above there breathe hateful, hollow men Solar systems spin and endless seas...

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