Long Dirges Poems

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


Premium Member A Broad Reach

Written: May 30, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Craig Cornish

                            ***********************

Sail tilts wide, a trail of ethereal voyages— 
beneath gale-screaming canvas, untamed havens huddle. 
A harsh and bitter school—winds guide the clumsy—  
to fulfill the needs of the learner in salt and spray.  

Shimmering, citrine waters belie a dark abyss—  
shadowing their sins, gathering a gale. 
seabirds muster, wailing discordant dirges,  
surf thrums its symphony, light-bearer of dawn.  

The squall approaches, nugatory now— 
Yet horizon instructs: even fickle breezes  
mock hedonist’s feast, remind the sailor of restraint.  

A waif—wary-eyed, pugnacious—grasps a thread at dawn,  
vessel bucks in ocean blitz—
ephemeral fingers touch aurum,  
foam anoints the timbered blade with oracular blessing.  

Waves cradle cobwebbed legends — 
a dark embrace where visceral awe remains.  
Waters devote themselves to lunar reverie—
a tome of lambency unfurls its farewell canopy.  

Horizons incarnadine, crepuscular creed,  
stars spill splendor as shadows clutch twilight’s dagger.  
And still—the broad reach carries us—
not canvas and keel alone, but the human heart—
sardonic tenderness stretching into the infinite.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Bereaved

The ice-cold sun was hid
Behind a bank of clouds that came unbid,
Ugly freezing winds blew
Birds felt it all and flew
No place to rest, they knew.
The black cypress did their shelter forbid. 

Beneath, lanes clearly showed
All tombs and snow covered the dead's abode.
Alas, their days were timed,
Their heavy hurdles climbed,
Their dirges were long chimed,
In heaven's eternity, they now rode.

Despite all I hunted,
The one tomb where peace and my love were granted.
I knew the number and lane,
Cold wind numbed not the pain,
Bereaved from my love was not a pleasant feeling
Especially when I heard the dirge bells pealing.

Saw her lovely photo,
Her sweet pale smile, and eyes were soft like a doe.
On the old tomb, I saw
A plaque, I stared in awe,
Her writing, without flaw: 
That she loved me always, she had to show.


Placed 1

27 January 2023
Writing Challenge - B Word Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Finish My Poem - The Butterfly

As she drinks nectar from a flower, sweetness from heaven falls like dew  
anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun showers she appears as if on cue
 
Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia beneath a tinted sky of April blue 
flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous marvel, she is beauty true on true

Tis the vernal hour when nature's luster peaks and winter dirges no more wend.
Airy notes from feathered breasts, dutiful drones, bejeweled butterflies ascend.

Upon the indigo daze of an afternoon, my angel in lepidopteran disguise 
danced along this florid patch with plush pirouettes, calling "Rose, arise!"

"Still here, a bloom to seek and hold." Groggy, dolt, my petals of discontent...
quiet cold stole my blush, then by cruel degrees, I learned snow's resentment. 

But in a sun-lit-breeze ballet, God as big as the butterfly, weighing like nothing 
revealed the signs of a world renewed, and ushered me thru the rite of spring.
Form: Couplet

Treasure the Pleasure of God's Blessings

once i had footprints as tattoos
the art was tasteless
the seed was a hateful hoax

once i had phlegm laced spit in every hair follicle
the gleam was unattractive
the roots were unbalanced and unevenly growing

once i had gnats fronting as a jazz band predominately playing dirges
the rhythm was a compulsive liar
the melody was basically a malady

then you came along 
you saw me in all chapters of unkempt
you dried my tears
you gave me shelter
you made me pray with you
you Loved me to Wellness

now i am a better man 
now i am smelling like lavender and vanilla
now my heart is richer than my many big pictures
now i know the true meaning of Prosperous Gratitude
now i know what it really feels like to be Definitively Loved
Now I Thank God and Give Him Praise For You.....

now i must go and get myself together and get ready
her funeral starts at 11am
her last words to me were 'You Blessed My Life By My Saving Yours'

Treasure The Pleasure Of God's Blessings......
© Marty King  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Earth's Generations

We are but flesh and blood
  spawned from a putrid drop
our end to lie in the ground
  with the worm and maggot

Babes, dependent on mothers
  for nourishment and love
at the close of our days
  as helpless as newborns again

In the prime of our lives
  we satisfy our desires as we can
for the fulness of the bloom
  soon fades, the years swiftly pass
and age takes its toll in full measure

We rage at perceived injustice
  call for an end to iniquity
knowing too well the futility of reform
  the bloody terror of revolution...

The earth's generations come and go
  One truth they do know ~
When passion subsides, quiet faith emerges
  All else vanity and funeral dirges


Premium Member The Temptation of St Anthony

The Temptation of St Anthony

I entered the desert, 
took a vow not to speak 
Lucifer’s here too, hoping 
silent men grow weak 
My path seemed so straight 
but quickly became oblique 
I question whether it is I 
that fetishise the bleak

The fish sang in bass tones,
dirges I once knew
A trapped fiend plucked strings 
from a hamstrung canoe
The joyful decapitated 
are half man half shrew
As laughter echoes from whalebone
prisons, meant to subdue

Beasts around the table 
chant a satanic grace
I saw my own face 
in the filth they embrace
Physicality beckons 
in this unholy place
I pray what I've seen 
my mind can efface

I avert my eyes 
to remain true and just
From helping hands 
that will morph and disgust
I’m not paranoid although 
filling with lust
Some gifts look divine, 
served by demons I distrust

Deities fawn and 
confess their obsessions
Say they’ll absolve me 
of any transgressions
I’m losing my will and 
might make concessions
God be with the days,
I had my own possessions

As the churches crumble 
the habits reveal
Is a sin still a sin 
if you know it’s not real
If this is right, I’ve done 
no wrong to appeal
I’m out on my feet, 
but not ready to kneel

Even the heavens are tainted 
with monsters that float
Their droppings rain down, 
but I tighten my coat
Hunching to dodge scythes 
that fixate on my throat
Focus past pain 
to salvation so remote

Calm amidst chaos 
is my weary repose
Rock bottom cannot 
inflict any more woes
Right now it appears 
as if anything goes
Should I step up to the plate 
or keep on my toes

I’ve stooped low in thought
but never in deed
I’ll rise to full height 
and in good faith be freed
After all, what’s a hellscape 
unless you take the lead
I’m not yet a saint, 
just planting the seed

I’ve long left the desert, 
beatified in name 
People believed me broken, 
and can now heal the lame
I found peace in tortured 
mind, I battled to tame 
Wrested truth by devotion, 
exposed lies within shame.
Form: Ekphrasis

Premium Member Day of Silence

Day of Silence

A shredded temple curtain lies
Upon a shattered floor;
Silent Sabbath,
Daylight weeps before a stone,
Birds withhold their songs,
Dawn - undecided -
Rain - holding its breath -
Sunlight pacing -
Flowers fragrance -
Wandering in the shadows -
Jeers and taunts
Run from their echoes -
Earth's quaking - stilled 
Broken palms - quiet dirges -
Whispers tiptoeing past
Stunned dreams - broken -
While midnight stands watch
At a tomb
Yet in the dawn
Guards an empty sepulchre
When "Alleluia" -
Thundering joy -
Rings out
For this was no ordinary man
Shouted from Heaven's rooftops!

Ode To a Mother

Queen in our eyes!
Goddess in our hearts.
Alleviated fears, shaped behaviors,
Built careers, educated a nation,
Sang hymnals through the moments slowly.

She learned to live and love,
Unperturbed by failure, unruffled by haste,
Rising in the midnight glory,
Unbounded by time, undimmed by hope.

She sang dirges in ceremonies,
Boxed by pain, razed with tears,
Called on God in heaven,
Pushed by problems unleashed by dreams.

To wipe our tears and mend our fails,
Charred by life’s harsh realities,
Unbroken by woes, strengthened in invocations,
Into our stubborn adolescent years,
Through hectic times and sickbed comforts.

I reminisce her brief scolding,
Refusing to go to school for no reason,
And all the exquisite wares I broke —
Can’t fathom the pain I caused her.

But she never gave up on me,
Not he, not her, not us.
Even those who laid upon her lap,
A neighborhood mum circumventing the hemisphere
With her selfless deeds.

Spreading euphoria here and there,
With little that she had, her love unrelenting,
For the ones she nurtured beneath her feet,
With a partner she adored since day one.

She smiles, and there is hope,
Of small beginnings and grand endings.
In her voice, comfort and peace,
I will forever be grateful for a mother like you.

So thank you for words uttered,
For actions and inactions,
For love unconditional,
Even in anger, even in pain.

Thank you for souls well nurtured,
The spanks so brusque, the food, the gifts,
Thank you for care unending,
May God bless you always.

Thank you for a life well lived;
In your footsteps we follow suit.
© Kofi Amed   Create an image from this poem.
Form: Ode

Premium Member The Unknown

THE UNKNOWN

Unbeknownst to you, you touched the deepest recesses of my heart.
You are the oil that penetrated these old and rusted tight, hinges -
making it possible, to open, once again, the steely doors to my heart.
For what has seemed a life time, I thought - never again love to feel, love to experience,
love to express or to let in the life and light of love's forces, love's energies.
All of this happened in the blink of an eye - you cared not to see.
Blindness now reigns supreme - lost is that beautiful dream.
Nothing but harsh words, words of indifference - a spirit so mean
that comes at me in forceful waves, permeating every scene
that you and I - upon life's stage - play out our parts, 
in costumes life's experiences have fashioned for us
that we - on our journey - have tailored in defense of our souls.
You where the key my Dear, - not ever wanting to be for fear -
that opened the lock, turned the clock, opened my heart for me
and a world - lost for so long - I believed I'd never again see.
That now is being destroyed, it's crumbling, soon to be all gone
and you contend, believe it was all - I who made it go wrong,
caring not to see, wanting not to hear the dirges that have become my song.
Now you want me to let it go, now you no longer want me to carry on.
Oh how I wanted to undress my heart, my spirit, my soul, all my dreams
lay them all - naked, free, new born - before your eyes - nothing to hide.
This I did for you, you did not see, you shot them down, you denied,
told me I was not your friend, told me I did not love you,
told me you had only two friends, Christina, Randy.
This left me no place to go - nothing more I can do.
Except remember - I think you are as sweet as candy.

B.J."A" 2
May 15th 2009

Premium Member An Instrument the Player

AN INSTRUMENT
&
THE PLAYER

Once upon a time - not so long ago - encountered, was this exotic GU ZHENG. Fate, placed this lovely Instrument, into the hands of an old player, a musician who had been laid to rest, who had lain dormant, frozen in time, among the ashes of reflections of the music he once played, music that created the sights and sounds that made up the visions he now looks into, of his past. 

This old man's abilities - decaying, flaccid from so many years of neglect and impotency - came to life, to life with such desire, that it made possible, movements from his tired old mind, mouth, hands and fingers that would play sounds, vibrations of heavenly music, that would sing to the ears of his lost old soul, lifting his spirit to heights once only known to his youth now to extro into the world of the living, once again, fingers - like that of the gods - gliding over this elegant, sweet Instrument, caressing her with whispered strokes, much like those of silent breezes on a clear, worm summer's day as they slide across the quivering strings of this beautiful GU ZHENG, that now - after so brief a moment, making such heavenly articulations -has given up the music, ending the dance, turning down low, the lights that once, where as brilliant as a million suns, and taking the music - silently drifting across the players recollections of tunes they once danced to -and slipping it into the hands of another .

The old musician slips into a cloak of sadness, of dark dirges he puts into his own words, plays from his instrument, - the broken heart - plucking at it's dead strings, bringing to life the blues, the song of his awakening .

B. J."A" 2
February 16th 2011

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