Long Commemorating Poems
Long Commemorating Poems. Below are the most popular long Commemorating by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Commemorating poems by poem length and keyword.
Fight for freedom is a journey.
Journey of life under recurrent restriction.
Hindrances at random, freedom seldom,
traversing on constriction in chained channel,
running and tumbling in dark tunnel.
Always hankered for a glimpse of luminosity of freedom.
Twenty fourth July is federal holiday commemorating Declaration of United States
as Independent Nation approving separation under British Rule in 1776.
Purpose of Celebration is to be focussed
on pursuit of liberty a equality and unalienable fundamental human rights
always aiming to obey Universal Moral Values
Americans. observe the day with barbeques , parades and fireworks
Concept of full freedom lies in the fact to establish
Fundamental human rights to follow :
Social Improvement in priority.
Drive out out malice, violence, corruption
Person-wise, race- wise, Nation-wise
for perfect precise Civilization.
Never to overpower other country
Exchanges of ideas in every field
as Science, Technology and Industry
should run parallel to build Global Society .
Every child should get facility of free education!
No discrimination, but to show Global Integrity.
Health issues of populace to place
under responsibility of Government.
Each to be honoured as Global Citizen.
Unique relegion ' HUMANITY ' in HUMAN RACE
to glow in glory and grace.
Santa Claus, a man born for the Anniversary of Jesus our savior Babe
Another year has passed. As we celebrate the Anniversary of Christ
Rays of light benignly shine on a makeshift stable. It's an Anniversary set
Aside for the Savior of the world. We take delight, in his Holy Anniversary.
King of Jews, Almighty One, Abba, Advocate, we could never repay you for this
Event. You deserve to be honored each December heart and soul. Its Buon
Natale in Italy, Joyeux Noel in France, frohe Weihnachten in German. As we
Devote ourselves to commemorating your special day, we gather around and
Resurrect your birth through celebration and song. We know that you are the
Instrumental object of our Saving Grace. You are, "King of The World"
Christmas is s time of year when we celebrate the Anniversary of Jesus.
Kris Kringle can't hold a candle to you, you are Our Leading Star.
Oct 9 2022
Sponsor Sara Kendrick (Happy Anniversary Sara)
Contest Name Anniversary
Come. me. come. you.
What an immalleable moment
Oh , Twelve days twelfth night
Make me a victim
of this true surrealism
Come. me. come. you
Commemorating the anointed
In yule, we found yuletide
In Bethlehem we found a world
To the world wisdom rode
On horses stuffed with roses.
Candle lights or cannons?...
Oh my, angels!
This bliss they have come to grasp
'What a nifty memento!'
_Hail virgin Mary,_
this she has conceived
Amid procastinations, colluders
hence, time dealers and connivers
Yet, he be gratified, Him and the spirit
~gold is evil!~ for man is clothed gold
Or man is mischievous otherwise sold
Man is dark-light, betrayal is may
Be him altruistic, selfless, patriotic
All these shall flee, for man is greed
Whencesoever, birth untold, time on hold
feelings unfold-
by messianic prophecies unknown
He died! Aye! he twice did- yet
he lives by the soul, until he returns again..
He felicitates with us, the holy masses of Christ
Gripped by jubilant spirit of Christ’s birth*
Resounding that Messiah came to earth
Our church celebrates Mission Month with zest
Every July midst Gospel-preaching crest.
Reverberating divine good news sound
Faith of believers and their hope abound
As with God’s compassion, they do reach-out
Sharing Christmas love message of no doubt.
Commemorating Christmas in July
Brings joy and peace of triumphant supply
Reviving hearts for great spiritual race
Anchored by the Lord’s brace along His grace.
Thankful to the Saviour for Christmas gift
We do rejoice toward heavenly lift
Assured of His redemption grant so grand
While with prayer we fulfill His command.
*Luke 2:11 For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.
August 1, 2022
4th place, "Christmas in July or July Celebration" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin; judged on 8/10/2022.
By Phan Tan Hai
Fifty years—sitting and remembering
a youth shattered by turmoil;
dreams still stunned with disbelief—
marching in the streets, burning cars, protesting.
Seeing my father hanging from a bridge,
seeing myself with a torn hat, begging;
seeing my mother weeping through a century,
seeing the sky emptied of a thousand birds.
Fifty years—never truly sleeping,
staring at history, eyes wide;
Nha Trang, Pleiku, Ðà N?ng—
night after night my hair turned white in the mirror.
Sunlight still falls on the old schoolyard,
dust dimming the faces of friends;
why should beauty grieve in storm season—
midnight, counting drops of rain.
Fifty years—dream or reality,
reading books by a flickering lamp;
touching life and feeling it break,
shaping a statue that never becomes whole.
Reading books, dreaming of peace for the world,
calling for gentle winds and kind clouds;
the monochord from school days—
blood still oozing from my fingertips.
Fifty years—friends from the Philosophy Group
carrying a mother’s lullaby into life;
writing verses of horses crying in the night,
mourning a history deaf, mute, and blind.
The midnight horn of the seventh lunar month,
pouring wine to send off wandering souls;
waiting for dawn in repentance,
vowing my life to be a tower of incense.
Fifty years—looking back,
sutras copied, tears blurring the page;
a thousand lifetimes drifting, still grateful to the Buddha,
sending all sorrow away with the falling rain.
History passes—its tragic river,
the conch shell’s call, the wandering troupe;
I kneel before the Buddhas of three times,
vowing my life to shine like a mirror.
--- This poem is dedicated to the writer Le Lac Giao and the members of the Philosophy Study Group at the Saigon Faculty of Letters, commemorating the 50th anniversary of their first meeting (1970–2020). Most of the group members have since devoted themselves to the study of the Dharma under the guidance of the Tibetan Temple in Binh Duong, Vietnam. This piece also serves as the Afterword for Le Lac Giao’s short story collection, "The Sad Smile of Summer".
In Gettysburg, the soldiers fell
In shock, in pain, in death,
As thousands from the North and South
Cried out with their last breath.
Their bodies lay in bloody fields,
A vista grim and stark;
Today, those hills have been restored
Into a hallowed park.
With monuments and obelisks
Commemorating all
Who fought and died when barely grown,
Sucked in to wartime's thrall.
A marker made of stone records
The bodies there interred,
Remembered with a name or else
"Unknown," a lonely word.
The numbers laid out state by state
Count lives the war's undone.
New York sustained the greatest loss -
Eight hundred sixty-one.
That just reflects the ones who died
Those three days in July
And after all these years, no one
Can really answer why.
The battlefields are there to see -
To visit and to tour
But sadly, war is a disease
For which there is no cure.
Juneteenth… Justifiably they say ignorance is bliss.
No, it’s nothing to be proud of.
Ultimately unaware and unfamiliar, living in Canada
I had no clue about racism.
Naïve with never more than a glimpse of references seen
on bits of night time television.
Epitomizing the slavery era, aired the much acclaimed
tv series ROOTS much to my chagrin.
Truthfully it was the last coup de grace,
the last nail in the coffin of my innocence.
Evil had a face and victims the likes of my idol
Sammy Davis Jr who sang The Candy Man.
Embittered? Supposedly not with his debonair charm,
yet what of all my Motown idols?
No further than in my lifetime, discrimination and bigotry,
the need for a Juneteenth.
Traditional celebrations commemorating the thirst
for freedom of emancipated ancestors.
Heads of parades waiving a Juneteenth Flag of Freedom
while sipping a Strawberry soda pop.
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on June 15, 2018 for contest JUNETEENTH POETRY sponsored by EDWARD IBEH - RANKED 3RD
you keep me here
begging at the bush
as it still blossoms....
commemorating when
you vanished
i remember the night
when i cried and let the
tears fall strategically in
the center of the dent left
on the pillow that you slept
on
some nights, i would just sit
up and watch the streetlight
spotlight the radiance of your
gentle being while praying to
God to strengthen the foundation
of our bond
forever had potential with us, and
i put in some work trying to etch that
dream into infinity
but alas you were no competition for
the sun, and i apparently represented
the clouded obstruction of your view
it was then that i learned to add
refreshing colors to the thriving
center of myself for the necessary
sake of comfortably being....
moving forward has been like pouring
water into a cup since then....and wherever
it flows within me provides the essential
cleansing that makes it possible for me to
exist in forward motion and its eye opening
continuum....
Snowflakes taking rebirths; transforming into flimsy shapes,
Melting then, commemorating momentary landscapes...
Flying high; skating, skiing, tough throw of stony snowballs;
One never gets hurt, yet, as though bathing in feather-falls...
Inner warmth and outer chill; frozen nights and melting days,
Costume changing nature's tentative transfiguring ways...
Surprise-filled advent of friends, like whimsical rain-drizzles,
Snow bunting, geese, waxwing, grosbeak and owls play in mizzles...
Midst shorter days and longer nights, indoor games go endless,
Though trees and plants stop growing, vegetables fill countless...
Flocks of migratory birds flying like floral designs,
Snow foxes and hares fashion-parading in rare sun-shines...
Each scene of winter is, indeed, like heavenly wonder,
Missing these might be the most monstrous of human blunder...!
12 January 2022
Winter Wonders Within Nature Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: M. L. Kiser
In my past existence,
circumstance sowed my roots
deep into woods of foreign soil,
slowly I ascended spreading my wings,
yearning to be evergreen,
blossoming in summer with glossy verdant leaves -
I became the soul of the earth.
Yet, I never belonged,
among a promenade of silver skinned pines,
who mocked my rough brown bark.
I was born to flourish in a tropical oasis,
so autumn winds stole my diverse petals.
I stood vulnerable with
bare branches shivering in silence.
Snow fell gently,
as my crumbling core began to rot.
Fate slashed at my anchor like a mad man with an axe,
until I collapsed with my sap bleeding dry.
I was left to slumber in melancholic meadows,
abandoned in murky misty moors.
In death,
I pondered, will anyone miss me in times of;
silence, anger, tears, smiles, laughter and regret?
Although they cannot hear nor see me,
will they still feel me in their hearts?
When they gaze at the night skies.
Will they find me among the stars?
Lost in thought,
yearning stardust and moonlight melodies,
my soul connected with an ethereal spirit,
an aromatic aura I had never felt -
I was finally found.
Her soft lotus touch roused a fluorescent glow.
Our hearts illuminated resembling the golden orb.
As my beloved portrays me in her poetry,
we wander in fields of forever,
commemorating instead of cremating memories.
Her devotion plants a special seed in her bronze orchard,
creating an immortal poetic garden -
where we bloom as flowers in all four seasons.