Long Crematory Poems

Long Crematory Poems. Below are the most popular long Crematory by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crematory poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member To Be a Poet

To be a poet, a sagacious sage
Who spills his blood across the page
That  tells his tales in black and white
Where wrong is wrong and never right

He knows each breath could be his last
How quick today becomes the past
Love doesn't always conquer hate
And choices made, determine fate

A visionary who can see
Whatever there will be, will be
That Father Time will never wait
The Angel of Death is never late

He thinks that love is like a rose
That where one dies another grows.
Unlike the rose that grew before
With sharper thorns that prick the more

We laugh, we cry, we live, we die
We say goodbye with one last sigh
And all we do and all we learn
Adds not one ash to the crematory urn.
    

                    Daniel Turner
Form: Rhyme


Eluding My Ressurection

Eluding My Ressurection

Eluding the proposition of more work to be done 
Prelude to the inquisition that is blocking out the sun 
I can only conclude that the ammunition was hard fought and won 
While the interlude for the intermission has only just begun

Statutory situations from behind a judges bench presiding 
Defamatory imitations that aren’t worth justifying 
Auditory insinuations that see a person testifying 
Crematory conflagrations that are somewhat death defying 

Intercontinental ballistic missiles heading for a major city 
Coincidental trajectories on the inside that are the opposite of pretty 
Environmental projectiles that leave humans loitering in complicity 
Developmental officials that stunt the growth of those without pity 

Acrimonious altercations that leave you shocked and stunned 
Parsimonious purification that has men reaching for their guns 
Disharmonious communications that make you feel inclined to run 
Sanctimonious salutations that remove the laughter from the fun 

Aberrations of contemplations that leave my thinking incomplete 
Abdications of compensations that keep you working on your feet 
Complications of innovations that seem to be headed for defeat 
Combinations of annotations that keep your words strong enough to compete 

Augmentation of technological conversations altered for their privilege and stature
Conflagrations of mythological consternations that have people waiting for the rapture 
Insinuations of psychological manifestations that make you feel like you are captured 
Constellations of astronomical configurations that engender awe and enrapture

I’m hoping that the tides will flow in favour of my direction 
While eloping from the slides that show my wanting predilection 
For downward sloping motions that grow upward in their redirection 
As they live while coping in the know of my resurrection 

The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz
Form: Rhyme

Homeless San Diego Freeway Five To Heaven

Invasion of tears on a lonely street
I crash spheres of sadness that burst with a sigh
There's no one to tear me apart I can meet?
..a Lexus is lost and the driver is shy...

The freezing orchestra plays in my head
Police sirens as one play with my memory
A voice seems to utter " They will give us bread !!!"
As tearing, lost souls head for the Crematory.

I dream I wake up as pure as a kid
"No More Tears" - a shampoo bottle promises in vain
This time though white traces of a salty skid
Releases my heart, my hopes and my pain...

by: iolanda scripca

www.scripca.com

for Paula's Contest "Tear"
Form: Rhyme

Monorhyme On Egoistic Head

The world is full of fools’ theory
Listening to them I feel weary.
Such egoistic heads tell not to worry
And at our back talk oscillatory
Bad about us, creating a crematory
Where they bury their own glory.
They have a bad attitude of sanatory
Coward, showy, deceitful, predatory.

The world is full of fools’ theory
Listening to them I feel weary.
I too had such a mad hoary
Who was ready with an itinerary,
Where all bad & deceit come corollary
As she had a base habit of obfuscatory.
She knew less concepts contemporary
And thought herself vital primary.

The world is full of fools’ theory
Listening to them I feel weary.
Would always ask if I hunky-dory?
We knew those emotions were vapory – 
Happy, then sad, angry then nugatory!
Her emotions changed as witch’s allegory,
Hate, spurn, prune are her favourite mandatory:  
Now singly fights with colleagues hortatory;
Alas! Does not know her faults & category.

Listening to them I feel weary.
Would always ask if hunky-dory?
At first I tried to be a promontory
So that I can save her crematory;
Blind with pride, less corroboratory,
She spurned me having derogatory.
Now also I pity her as she is a hoary
But wish she improves her oratory.
Form: Monorhyme

Life and Death

Unknown, unseen, the invisible demon has arrived to annihilate 
Anybody out in open becomes a pray of his wrath
Soon gasping for breath, gone forever
Such is his might that no one dares to go near dead body
Lest they be killed mercilessly

Huddled at home, a life of scare
Millions dead, count increasing
Governments battling the hidden enemy
Nothing is working 
All are living a caged life at home

This monster has spread its tentacles all over the earth
Dead bodies fill crematory, human population coming down drastically
Surprisingly he is targeting only humans

Nature, trees, animals, birds, insect, air, water, all are happy
They are glad the monster came to save them from human atrocities 

Land animals still living in little space, now roam about more freely
Water bodies are relieved as they are no longer being used as a big dustbin
Trees are breathing fresh air
Birds are chirping merrily
No honking of vehicles, no loudspeakers, no loud human noises

It seems this monster is a friend of all except humans
He wants to kill humans for atrocities committed against others

Man's ego stands crushed 
One who thought he was the greatest
stands helplessly in front of a microscopic creature.

Earth belongs to all, live and let live
Stop destroying earth, or I will come kill you
Message is loud and clear!

05.05.2021
Contest Name : A Poem of Horror
Sponsor	: Funom Makama
Form: Imagism


The Departing of the Heart

The Departing of The Heart 

Salutations for the sound of mind and poverty of heart 
Reparations that don’t come through in time to rectify the start 
Commiserations for the ones who find it hardest to eventually part 
Palpitations of another heart that cannot perceive the concept that it must depart 

Military consequences that send the young men out to war 
Conciliatory influences of the leaders who target hiring of the poor
Crematory inferences necessary as they knock on heavens door 
An Adversary without recompense that helps me get up off the floor 

Kindness for the people that are on daily parade 
Blindness from the steeple as we play Holy charades 
They Find less sympathy for the feeble as they huddle close and afraid 
Passing through the eye of a needle as the ferryman gets paid 

Interjections from the galley as the defendant begins to cry
Objections in a midnight alley as the amendment causes him to deny 
Rejections of the black sheep in a family as without her flock she’ll surely die 
Comprehensions of the urgency that communicate in sighs 

The End by Elizabeth Moroz
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Love Honor and Respect

Love Honor and Respect
For Crowe's Mortuary and Crematory
By Franklin Price
02/08/2022

My wife was lifted up by God
While we held her by the hand,
With her, our daughter and myself,
As she left for promised land.
She passed away in early evening,
Was almost half past seven.
Crowe's came and took her body,
 Though her soul had gone to heaven.
They lifted her with love and care,
As we cried to see her go.
I was glad that I had called them.
Their caring softened up the blow.
The house was feeling empty.
A loved one's loss has that effect.
It could have been a lot worse,
But for their honor and respect.
Theirs is not an easy task.
They only work when there's a shroud.
The way they made me feel that night
Had me thanking God out loud.


Her passing was three weeks ago.
I found an urn with hummingbird, 
She always loved to watch them 
They hovered 'round without a word.
I called Crowe's, and asked them,
If they could transfer all her ash.
They said that they would wait for me.
I should not hurt myself and dash.
When I got there, they were waiting
And with respect they did the deed
I very highly recommend them
If you ever are in need.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Living In the Dark

It is the night, in deepest dark, that death foretells
the demon heart in which all lonely feeling dwells.

Yet, in plain sight, our eyes can’t see what life impels,
emotion’s plea, our deepest sorrow love dispels.

Blind are caustic ink filled visions, all light repels,
like charred decisions, ash from crematory tells
a tale where quietus intrepidity sells
the silent impetus toward a life of many hells.

Walled inside this ebon murk, my emotion wells;
beyond they lurk, those who are sane, their tale retells
how life is to live, and the end but brief farewells.

Though my will may bend, it is I that death compels.


02/16/2018
Form: Monorhyme

Premium Member On the Crest of a Wave

Sometimes,
sailing in ebony blades
of saturnine seas 
brings forth a forsaken froth
of scarred reveries, 
when musk-ochre 
tints of sunshine cease 
to slice through solemn 
scarlet skies and 
cruelly-coloured black-pearls 
shimmer as an obsidian beacon 
of forest-green intentions, 
caging pantoums of peace 
in glass-jars of 
bleeding sandalwood-scented
butterflies, entrapped in
sapphire patterns. 

My spirit is often ablaze
as a crematory where
opal-gold truths are buried
eight feet under the raven crusts, 
and I rise as feathery-flames
in hot-bronze furnaces
of diamond-dragon's 
chauvinistic cave, 
so that heart's papier- mâché
cells never sacrifice their
rosemary plasma to 
eagle-edged egoes and
noiseless yet suffocating
sonatas of narcissistic
nestled woodpeckers. 

I believe, life is wistful 
like wilderness of a white-wolf, 
growling besides midnight's 
brim and howling to the 
carmine moon, wrapping 
peach-sunsets of serenity
in fluid-time, unfolding
scattered shades of
sonorously rustling foliages, 
shimmering in breezes of 
crumbling claret twigs and
satin seedlings whining 
to the list of traitors, 
for their unborn lavender buds. 

So, swear not under the afterglows 
of august skies and 
let me float on the 
crest of azure waves, in my
snowflake-capsule, being
immortally evanescent, 
As every promise is like 
a betraying magenta melody 
of crepuscular youth, fading
in forged futuristic pastels.

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