Long Commemorated Poems
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- I firmly press the side of my head against the inside of my left bicep. Leaving my arm at an awkward angle and I looking a bit foolishly. When I release, the imprint of my ear remains etched on the surface. Simple things that a man learns as a child; carried with him into adulthood. Golden memories left in the passed as we stay present in today. Each step that leads up to where you are right now, is evident on the stairs. Memories documented to ensure that we will not forget. Scrap books and picture albums are kept in the keep sake box. Tucked away for safe keeping in the back of the mind. Achievements are commemorated. Only to catch fire and vanish into the memory foam that evaporates.
IZ
2015
There stands a blackened tower
Shrouded in a ghostly white
The tomb of seventy two
From a day that drags on hour by dreadful hour
As we reflect upon that ghastly night
A day so many live to rue.
From a simple kitchen fire
There grew a flesh eating blaze
That built into a funeral pyre
Covering London in its darkening haze.
Onlookers helplessly looked on
At windows registering silent screams
Of friends and relatives soon to be gone
The stuff of nightmares ,not of dreams.
Too late did the firefighters come
As the flames did the victims consume
In the furnace they once called home
Daily life no longer theirs to resume
An inquiry now picks over the remains and rubble
Searching for what went so badly wrong
Many will be called to account for this trouble
For those commemorated in my dirge of a song.
Grenfell's holocaust is burned into the national mind
Memories shredded and ripped sadly asunder
While every attempt was made for blame evasion
By those who to customer safety were blind
Our bitter grief smoulders on from this costly blunder
Such a parcel of hypocritical rogues in our nation!
Jesus has The Last Supper
While man yearns for the last wish
To be fulfilled in life time
In old age
Wow
He wants to travel round the world
What a splendid idea
A lot of money spend
Pouring out like running tap water
To see the different places under the same sky
To see the different people under the same roof
To read the different people of the same residence,the earth
Either still far away from hell or heaven
We live happily because Jesus has his Last Supper
We leave happily maybe after we have our last wish
Being granted too
We have our own wishes and desires to be fulfilled
Is hard to distinguish and choose one
For the last wish
As we're are not as saintly as Jesus
As we commemorated Him
For man's love is selfish and unique
Still full of sin
Once The Covered bridge
Till last fine month
I was poising firm,
Aloft those giggling waters
that often went wild.
Taking pride of
my sinewy timbers,
As brimming loads of
endless desires passed by.
In my days of youth
Condoned the avid,
Drudgery and ambitious,
Smirked evermore.
For years having allured
many adorable twosomes,
Charming familiar faces
grew up in grace.
Now shattered I lie
Beneath that aqua,
As feral waves caress
my deep wounds,
My tears sinking
Tranquil to river bed.
Lost to negligence
my soul kept calling,
As soaked in edacity
you chose to be careless.
Once reckoning picturesque
was my enticing chemistry,
Amidst blooming greens
my stunning brown woodland.
Too late the realm
Severed beyond mend,
Now me, the covered bridge
be commemorated in history
and missed in panorama.
Written August 23, 2017
For contest by Craig Cornish
Immutably
the rock rests solemnly reposed,
settled in its venerable vigilant venue.
It silently witnesses the estuary of geo tides
muted in indolent vibrations
crafted from the command of tacit eons
that carve its inevitable formation.
Narrated within stoic calmness,
its testimony is written under the oath of
time, space, wind and weather
without revision or revolution
for this stately sentinel
Locked in the burden of gravity
it erodes and restores its mass dimension
commemorated into the millennia fold.
It whispers a story of intrinsic silent majesty
whittled to eternities sculpture
in the quarry of earth
February 22,2022
Nature catagory
F Form - Free Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Contance La France
On Sunday March thirty two thousand fourteen, my sister
lost her grim battle to cancer, she was much younger than I;
nobody would believe that she fervently prayed while waiting to die...
who gave such strength to endure pain, if not her faith of believer?
I stood by her touching her forehead to offer some consolation...
she tried to smile, but was overcome by pangs of desperation.
If horrid fate had cut abruptly her life, prayers provided endless comfort;
and accepting death as a relief from suffering, she cherished that thought!
Farewell, Catherine...even the March gloomy sky cries
to express its ample sympathy for someone with moribund eyes!
A treasure you have left: gems that gleam as the eternal stars,
and each one of them reflects the gentle smile of your shining grace
that everyone saw when you opened those warm arms...
and by loving everyone, you taught us the meaning of an embrace!
Farewell, Catherine...find joy in that celestial place above the earth's sphere,
there happiness is heard through songs that praise glorious love, not fear!
We'll remember those delightful moments you shared with us...
when joy shone on a face that did not know the bitterness
of tears! Yes, they are imprinted on these weeping hearts
as the words of Virgil who commemorated the brave souls
that accomplished great things never forgotten by fleeing time...
isn't your story of indomitable courage for us to read and admire?
THE HOLY WEEK
I reminisce, I miss……
This week is Holy Week and I cannot help;
but to reminisce how we observed the
Holy Week, when I was growing up, that I miss.
Today is Good Friday and I remember
commemorating this day by being in church
at three in the afternoon, when Jesus
died, to recite The Stations of the Cross.
I reminisce; I miss the Holy Week then,
my father decorating the long doubled
strips palms for us to carry to church,
to be blessed in the Palm Sunday mass.
We gathered outside the church at night
on Holy Wednesday for procession around
our little town ending inside the church
to observe the Holy Wednesday mass.
The next night, we went to church
in observance of Holy Thursday and
we commemorated the crucifixion
and death of Jesus on Good Friday.
We continued on to memorialize
with another procession around
the town in the evening, followed
by the lengthy Good Friday mass.
Saturday was observed in silence,
while waiting to exhale and rejoice
the Resurrection on Easter Sunday
with all our town festivities.
Our resurrection procession started
outside the church very early in the
morning, ending at the plaza kiosk
with singers welcoming the procession.
We proceeded to church for the Easter
Sunday mass to celebrate the Resurrection.
We continued on celebrating by going
to the beach having fun and lunch.
How I miss observing the Holy Week then.
I reminisce, I miss….
4/2/21 I Reminisce I Miss Poetry
James Edward Lee Sr.
Emotionally drained
scars no longer visible
and I can still anticipate
the next slap
held prisoner by my thoughts
the pain deep within
a voice,
telling me I must have been at
fault
for him to turn from love
to hate in just a few minutes
mom always said the
husband
is always right
Why do I fear his love?
Why do I question who I am?
I use to know what I want
from life
now I await his approval
I’ve lost myself
in between the hidden scars
and the swear words
the constant refrain,
'you'll never make it without
me'
I’ve lost myself in between
his "I’m sorry and "it will
never happen again"
I’ve heard it so many times
every time I take him back
God knows I'm tired of his
broken promises and second
chances.
I've lost myself in my quest
for love
so lost, sometimes powerless
deep down I know this isn't
love
and yet I still hang on
hang onto his false hope
thinking it is suppose to be
this way
hopefully one day I will find
myself again..
I have to, so I can show my
children a better way
then scars and swear words...
Show them the true meaning
of love without fear
We are
approaching 16 days of
activism for no violence
against women and children
which is an international
event commemorated in
South Africa as well. 25
November 2011 – 10
December 2011
©131120111821
Today, I was reminiscing about Independence Day celebrations of yesterday,
And how happy throngs commemorated the day as compared to today.
Corona virus and rowdy mobs have seized our orderly domain;
I'm left wondering! Will the Fourth of July ever be the same again?
I recall home-town parades with John Deere tractors and prancing horses;
Marching men and women in uniform representing our armed forces;
Will this year, unruly rabble riot and treat Old Glory with disdain?
I'm left wondering! Will the Fourth of July ever be the same again?
I recall flags displayed along Main Street undulating in the air;
And spirited Sousa tunes played by the high school band with flair;
I recall picnics in the park and backyard barbeques with friends and kin;
I'm left wondering! Will the Fourth of July ever be the same again?
I recall concerts by the Philharmonic Orchestra in Memorial Park;
And the magnificent fireworks later when daylight turned to dark;
Will this year, misguided goons topple historic monuments they consider vain?
I'm left wondering! Will the Fourth of July ever be the same again?
I have many fond memories of The Fourth in my nearly nine decades,
Teaching my kids the significance of the day and marching in parades.
I pray the courage of The Founders will not have been spent in vain.
I'm left wondering! Will the Fourth of July ever be the same again?
Bob Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
DARK WINTER ENDS, WELCOME SPRING
The first day of winter came with harsh news.
My brother, his wife and son contracted
Covid, then seventeen others tested
positive, for this virus does not choose
it’s victims that it suddenly suffused
our family; three lives terminated.
All three commemorated, as winter
ends and as spring nears, bringing needed light
to overcome the dire, dark winter’s sight.
Welcome spring, a revival to enter
our family again or deliver
new beginnings to give us more insights.
Spring in a week, will bring growth and new hope,
changing darkness to light for us to cope.
3/13/21 Hexsonetta Poetry
Emile Pinet
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