Long Commemorate Poems
Long Commemorate Poems. Below are the most popular long Commemorate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Commemorate poems by poem length and keyword.
Who am I?
I live amongst the clouds; converging all around the clock. My bottom is so very far away from my tippy-tippy-top.
I live among my range, yet stand out from all above.
Ice and rock make my formations; be sure to pack an extra glove.
Black Hills to the east are less northerly than I.
Millions of people live to my west; too congested for my other side.
To my east is a sign blinking; traction tires are advised.
Once beyond our pass a famous gorge may greet many with...with an open mind.
My attributes are many such as height, width, front to back and side to side.
Not a site for sore eyes at all; rather an award wining picture, worth a noble, peaceful prize.
Sunny days are far and few, between overcasting skies or as crystal clear as sky is blue.
I know it's getting warmer; each year I'm getting closer to my big eruptions' cue.
Without further praises due; say cheese... It's now my turn to photograph each and everyone who maybe even snap an extra few of me and you; to commemorate our journey—for why?
For why I haven't got a clue.
See you later alligators. I sense it's time to thank you very much for your attention. But the time has come to watch the rain.
"Check please!" I need to put on my waders!
I bet by now you are pretty close to guessing who I really am...?
Cascades of melting water form rivers on my sides.
My name is Mt. Rainer—nice to meet you and much obliged.
12/13/2016
This statue of four done the American way
For the Black Hills of Dakota, with the Lakota should stay
Carved to commemorate, the first one hundred and fifty years
This new nation built, on Red Indian tears
Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln and Roosevelt
This area Six Grandfathers, the Fort Laramie Treaty has dealt
Then the Indian Wars in the years 1876-77
What happened to perpetuity that was taken from them
Somewhere through the years a decision was made
Carved by the Borglum's to the Lakota they degrade
An AIM occupation, as recent as 1971
In memory of The Six Grandfathers, who were once their ancestors sons
Time has moved on further from those days of long ago
But the Six Grandfathers memories will once again flow
For in the Black Hills of Dakota, they will once again rise
For the Crazy Horse Memorial, will proudly be seen through the Lakota's eyes
The modern America you see, will know it simply as this
Mount Rushmore and four Presidents, against the Lakota's last wish
Time moves on and it certainly never stands still
Its the history of us humans, that we take at will
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Rushmore
If you make a vow to the Lord your God, you shall not delay fulfilling it, for the Lord your God will surely require it of you, and you will be guilty of sin. But if you refrain from vowing, you will not be guilty of sin. You shall be careful to do what has passed your lips, for you have voluntarily vowed to the Lord your God what you have promised with your mouth.
— Deuteronomy 23:21-23
Are our vows sacred? Are we hasty with our lips? One should not be caught up in a snare…do we dare trust our tongue to promises? Is the fruit of our womb deemed precious such that we ponder our words so we do not bruise the fruit?
— the poet
Jephthah’s Daughter
Leave me alone so that I may weep with my friends.
For two months I will proclaim, “I will never marry.”
My father in victory leads. God avenged his enemies.
But Jephthah made a vow, that after a victorious return
whatever comes out of the door of his house will burn
as an offering to the Lord. Oaths made were kept.
So I will not quarrel with him or say, “How could you?”
I came out to meet him, dancing and with tambourines.
He tarried not in telling me of his misery and vow.
This unmarried virgin merely asked for time to grieve,
for God of all gave the Ammonites into my father’s hands.
Each year the daughters of Israel commemorate
the virgin who was left alone to weep with her friends.
11/20/2021
This is quite a bit overdue my friends
It's an ode to Brussel Sprouts
Those delicious spherical bundles of joy
Not too popular hereabouts
Poor wee fellows just want to be loved
Along with the other veggies
They've long had a real image problem
About as popular as a wedgie
Thinking of starting a worldwide petition
Any Soupers wishing to join
Send a hundred dollars to me, Jester Jack
You'll receive a commemorate coin
Along with the coin you'll receive a bushel
Of these oh so luscious little critters
As a bonus for ordering before December
An autographed picture of John Ritter
Hey, it rhymes doesn't it !!!
© Jack Ellison 2013
A GUNPOWDER PLOT
The 5th of November is a day to remember,
Children get excited from September,
The sound of fireworks reverberate,
And bonfires with effigies of a life like
Guy Fawkes commemorate
What might have been a very bad turn,
If Parliament was then to burn!
The origin of this story began on the 5th November
Sixteen hundred and five,
Beneath the houses of Parliament, Guy Fawkes,
The traitor was found, and so King James did survive.
Our traitor/hero was brought up in a
Family with an outward Protestant belief,
But the reality was that he was Catholic
And to this day is recorded on leaf!
However, Protestants and Catholics are still
Divided in their faith,
As to which side of the fence Guy Fawkes should haith!
Guy Fawkes sent a letter to a Catholic acquaintance,
To please not stay, and be far away,
On this planned explosive gun powder plot day!
But plans went awry, and this secret letter
Landed, in the lap of James the King,
Who sent his guards to go find this rebellious ring.
Guy Fawkes was found with six barrels of gunpowder, and
Immediately sentenced to be hung, drawn and quartered,
But this meant a death of real suffering, a miserable
Horrible fate of been slaughtered!
This for him was unthinkable, so he jumped from the
Gallows and broke his neck.
Young children are not told the gory
Side of this famous story,
For it would wreck
A child’s belief in this day, destroy their enjoyment
Of bonfires, fireworks and loads of fun,
And even recognized as a hero by some!
A bugler stands silent and alone
Deep within the garden of stone
And as the first three notes sound
Echoing across this sacred ground
Resounding in the mourners’ ears
Stir each soul and summon tears
The bugler plays soft and slow
Twenty-four notes we all know
That in our souls resonate
They honor and commemorate
The Veteran we lay to rest
By whose service we were blest
With peace, safety, liberty
These things do not come free
So play bugler, sound the horn
Notes so soft yet so forlorn
Carried on the breeze aloft
Till lost in the evening soft
Till lost in the setting sun
A Veteran’s duty finally done
CORONALITY (2)
The world speaks in mournful tone,
The times keeps me up on it's own
Leading to crash but thought beckons,
The blueprint to pay for many tomorrows.
I swirl spoon in watery calamitious broth, tasteless,
Sit speechless, government powerless,
Aviation wingless, travel-ban endless,
Many activities motionless,
Our once trusted hands have become prohibition,
Toilet paper, nose mask and sanitation,
Just like liquid bleach sanitizing humanity,
Have become most sort after commodity.
Tupac predicted it when our health was alil better,
That Corona will emanate from China.
Eschanton apocalyptic reign.
Covid-19 pandemic now the world's stain,
Every breath you take may implicate you
But healing waters will benevolently flow through
To relieve the world's pain,
To commemorate the slain
And wipe off CORONALITY from mother Earth.
This, most definitely, I can bet.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © 2020.
This is quite a bit overdue my friends
It's an ode to brussel sprouts
Those delicious spherical bundles of joy
Not too popular hereabouts
Poor wee fellows just want to be loved
Along with all the other veggies
They've long had a real image problem
About as popular as a wedgie
Thinking of starting a worldwide petition
Anybody wishing to join
Send a hundred dollars to me, Jester Jack
You'll receive a commemorate coin
Along with the coin you'll receive a bushel
Of these oh so luscious little critters
As a bonus for ordering before December
An autographed picture of John Ritter
Hey, it rhymes doesn't it !!!
I have barely seen Him or catch even His shadows around.
I have barely touch His hands...
Nor I have barely heard His soft soothing voice..
Nor I have barely felt His footseps lurking beside or behind me..
However, what a deep soaring reassurance is His presence...
Not of like a Human Being that can be perceive..
Rather He is the silent rescuer and ever living Spirit..
No need for extravagant welcoming..
He has always been within our innerselves..
He is the calmer of our quivering nerves..
He is the greatest teacher not wanting us to fail.
He is our dearest friend not forgetting..
He always is waiting for you and me..
His arms widely open to embrace us..
His unending; unfailing is so felt..
Beyond wonders; beyond times and beyond borders..
All the time we are invited to talk to Him..
Even sing a song for Him and with Him..
More to play a harmonious melody to commemorate Him..
Truly, majestic in limitless abundance is His providence...
He is only one..
No one can overpass Him..
All the earth will uphold His Name..
He is our God - OUR GOD...
by: olive_eloi
2:14pm
23/10/2013
-------------+++
GOd has always been with me..
and so is He with you..
He will comfort you..
He will be there, never leaving..
just believe..
do trust..
blessed afternoon
2026.01.16
Today, Thursday 52 weeks ago,
Someone summoned up the courage,
Decided to approach me,
While I was standing in a queue.
He introduced me his name was JC.
He, somehow, knew I was in need,
To find a website to share my writing,
Which wrapped up all my feelings,
Of the short, sweet and lovely friendship with BB.
JC was a young, and seemed to be a shy man,
But he took the initiative to reach out to me,
To start a friendship which was
Even shorter than I was with BB.
It was so short it lasted only 88 days,
With lot of waiting, and promising.
It ended on a Sunday 2025.4.13.
When he messaged me in the morning.
With lot of anguishes and hatred.
Strangely enough, I had mix feelings for him.
I wished he never asked me,
To read his author book,
In which I found him a person with adhorent actions,
I was dismay and disappointed with his immature and irresponsible person.
Actually, it was how he treated me,
That I retaliated and described my true feelings,
And being unfriendly towarded him in my writing,
He should judge me from my behaviours,
Instead of my words.
How I had always been nice to him.
I supposed, pen is mightier than sword.
Nevertheless, if it was not for him,
All my feelings and diary writing,
Would still be bottled up and burried in my heart.
Thank you JC.
As I wrote before, it was faith letting us meet,
It was our behaviours and characters,
Driven our friendships fell apart.
Just wished to say "Hello JC, take care and goodbye."
To commemorate our friendship,
However, short and bitter sweet,
I have started playing your song,
The one you wrote last year,
The one you shared with me,
Just 10 days before you ended our relationship.
The only one I loved to read, sing and play.
I wish all your dreams come true,
Form a band to play your songs,
Publish and produce the albums.
Finally, complete your author book,
With interesting and lovely stories.