Long Eulogize Poems
Long Eulogize Poems. Below are the most popular long Eulogize by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Eulogize poems by poem length and keyword.
Yours truly never heard, seen, no lies
particularly when alone
facing my (pushing up daisies) demise,
without pretense nor guise,
he honestly decries
smelled, tasted, nor touched, any size,
and essentially knew nothing besides
ancient fruit grown in Japan
for past 1,000 years as Earth flies
thru space, now more about loquats,
plethora of details to exercise
memory bank, though
this poetaster still tries
to appear learned, no matter
me no expert, I reckon eyes
aforementioned small yellow size
egg-shaped acidic fruit
great breakfast, lunch,
or dinner sup prize
for dessert never knew the evergreen
eastern Asian tree of rose family,
in Thorndale residents
at somber occasions,
or holidays edibly feast
as modus operandi to eulogize.
If ever opportunity
finds agriculturally cocksure
and propensity doth arise to venture
to savor succulent juice of Loquat,
savoir faire mine mean
mien to one epicure
this wordsmith, whatever
his wordsworth as whitman,
he will need to remove lower denture
minor inconvenient truth (er tooth),
where jaws comprise juncture
and/or chop delectable treats
into byte size morsels.
Perhaps before I lay
me down to sleep
forever and a day
launched into death
be not proud, aye
will strive to appease
culinary yen oy vey
searching high and
low unexpectedly axed
about diddly squat (a spot,
pimple, or sty) seated
please and lemme
introduce myself, cuz
thar thou looking
for specific monsignor okay
thy my quest, I wilt thus assay
to indulge me secrete,
and rejoice hip... hip... hooray
if thee will allow any which way,
yours truly to supplicate,
perhaps magic discovery
after I pay obeisance and pray
to Mother Nature
my hunger, she will allay.
If ambition to satiate loquat all naught
please scatter cremated ashes,
upon bed of loquat sought
but ne'er found,
cuz earnestness to secure
coveted desire fraught,
not necessarily in vain if I got
repurposed to commingle,
viz this pauper devoid of haute
cuz thrift stores find me
where clothes get bought.
As the sky weeps
in periwinkle petals of
multicolored roses,
rinsed in lemons, and lavender,
the poet within me
releases a bougainvillea
bouquet of unfiltered gratitude,
swaying to the celestial duet
orchestrated by
the angel of raindrops,
adorned in braided
wildflower crowns and
windswept wishes,
echoing dulcet melodies
rendered in whimsical accents.
I ponder, if tears had a tune,
would it be the
sound of drizzling dewdrops?
Would you then feel
the pain I carry,
veiled in smoky silence?
Or would I forever be
the silhouette cloaked
in fogs of charcoal confusion,
too dark to be deciphered
by the fragmented eyes
that eulogize
all that sparkles and glows?
But when stained sunflowers
swirl beneath starless spheres,
scattering seeds of sorrow
to cultivate a garland of grief,
puddled with poignant poems,
I remain throned,
as the goddess of black rain,
riddled with cosmic rituals,
sprinkling kaleidoscopic dust
upon forsaken fields,
while listening to the
drifting leaflets in crisp air,
pleading for the demise
of my unfaltering faith,
oblivious to the truth
that I fear not
mists of melancholy.
I surf through surging seas,
unafraid of twirling torrents
and blazing tides,
piercingly striking
shimmering sapphires
floating in deafening despair.
There in the abyss of obscurities,
I’m nestled within restlessness,
in rooted resilience,
like a perplexed paradox
weaving crippled odes to
the sun that longs to rise and sail,
splashing hues of cinnamon clemency.
Tonight, I’m counting crooning comets,
amidst quivering hailstones,
dancing in cataclysmic rhythm above,
to find my home within
an island of daphne dreams
and singing seashells.
For I hear the flaming flowers
in their solitary stillness
serenade rain rhapsodies,
to awaken the petrichor
soul of heavy horizons,
wrapped in stringed
milky-quartz beads,
bursting forth blooming tomorrows,
illuminated by chamomile water,
concocted from charismatic spring falls…
Yet I think of us, engrossed
in umbrella moments,
Cupid too envied this
symphony of romance
where love conquered all,
and grief but a blurred memory,
in sunlit souvenirs of yesterday.
When I breathe my last, and my soul takes flight,
You'll see the tears, the feigned sorrow, the hypocrisy in sight.
Those who disliked me, who never lent a hand,
Will eulogize me, with words so grand.
They'll contribute to the coffin, the food, the flowers too,
But when I lived, when I needed them, what did they do?
Not a single hand was raised, not a single voice was heard,
No visits, no kind words, no love that was deserved.
They'll say I was good, I was great, but it's all a lie,
For when I walked among them, they passed me by.
They'll give me flowers when I'm gone, but not when I was alive,
Oh, love me now, show care now, while my heart still thrives.
A dead body can't see, can't feel, can't know,
The tears that fall for me, when I'm gone, don't show.
I don't need help in my coffin, I need it when I'm alive,
Cry now when you see me suffering, help me now when I strive.
They don't talk to you, they don't ask how you are,
They see you struggling, and they just stare.
They take pictures, laugh, and mock your pain,
Your tears make them help, indeed they pray for your downfall in vain.
But when you die, you become good, and they'll be the first to claim,
They'll buy food, flowers, and eulogize you with fame.
Oh, love me now, care for me now, while I'm still here,
Check up on me, ask how I'm doing, show me you care.
There's no harm in showing love, in being kind,
We only live once, and our time is undefined.
Caring is important, for one day you'll need it too,
On the road to success, there's only we, not just you.
Let's love one another, care for each other's plight,
With one heart and one love, we'll make it through the night.
For in the end, it's not the coffin that matters,
But the love we share, the kindness we scatter.
Her friends all departed before her,
No one was left to mourn her passing,
The curse of being somewhat blessed
With a life that is long lasting.
She buried her husband twenty years ago;
Lived in solitude ever since;
Every obituary she read of a friend
Brought tears and made her wince.
Of sound body and sound mind
For a century and more;
Sounds like a gift you might want
But the last twenty years she abhorred.
When at last her body gave out
And released her tormented soul;
No one was left to eulogize her
And make sure her story was told.
The preacher read from the bible
At a service that no one attended;
In a cheap coffin she was lain
And placed in a plot that will go untended.
She had shed tears at many a funeral
For people she dearly loved
But no one is left to cry for her
As she passes to the skies above.
I hope I live to a ripe old age,
But not the oldest of my peers;
I don’t wish to be so alone
In my autumn years.
A spic and span barren bed,
soft pillow with blanket spread.
You're tired and bored, all hackneyed.
Ready to sleep, drop down dead.
But...a vigilant mind..alive in dread.
cacophony..chaos..thoughts unsaid.
Another sleepless night ahead?
Head and heart throbs, like burning cigarettes
Broken love haunts, rude taunts and threats.
Throttled throat breathes, playback cassetes.
Silent tears douse, debts and regrets.
There lies the pillow, waiting to get wet.
That pillow.....so much you miss ..
Where Santa hid .....those gifts of bliss.
An angel mom blew goodnight kiss.
The pillow fights of sweet reminisce.
Now all ruffled,.. restless,.. whimpers hiss
Somnolent sombre eyes,
in endless rhythm eulogize..
A Sleepless Lullaby....
Dawn bids night goodbye....
Breathless – wistful,
Its wonderful inklings,
Blended with phantastic, gifted
In sighs, breathless – wishful
Reckless feelings, emotional, rich
Aromatic memories lingering
On the edge of sensitive, exciting
Mysterious like the haunting
Dream, echoing endlessly
Inside a sensation,
Moody melodies playing
Soft against the backdrop of peace,
Quiet joy promising
Heaven’s hope, hesitating
Past the timelessness
The serenity unfolding, breathless
Like the intensity of grace,
The wonderful so blessed, praise
Like the softest thanks,
Unbroken, unknowing, unheard
The beliefs, the prayers
Faded beneath the colors,
Hues of destiny, breathing out
Breathing in – overflowing
Rivers of passion, mounting
Headed out toward the seas,
Where they will merge
With joy and hope, love like
The answer to every need,
Love so beautiful – so sweet
Coming to life inside the moment
When two hearts reflect
The glory, the gentle, the gift
Two spirits bursting with light
Sighing into the night
Spoken for, promising the soul
Two lips parted, swollen
With ecstasy – the funeral of lonely,
The intimacy of elation, thriving
In the meeting of two smiles,
Two hearts, two breathless hopes –
Together, this moment – alive
In this song, alive in this kiss
Between two who become one
Thought, one promise, one dream
Overflowing into the wonder
Beyond thoughts, hopes – dreams
This is the bliss – this kiss
Rich with feelings, blessed
With kindness and compassion,
The beautiful in being united
By elation – euphoria, the excitement
Beyond the heart’s innocence,
In a gesture of believing – reaching
Inside the secret, the clandestine
The kiss – love’s reflection
Abiding on the heart’s admiration,
The soul’s adoration, the blessing
In an affectionate relationship
Passion’s applause – to eulogize – the kiss
Writing Challenge - 'K' Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Word Written About - KISS
March 10, 2023
" I CAN'T HEAR YOU WHEN YOU WHISPER "
you screech one final time,
so loudly that the walls between us shake
(Listen, listen, listen!)
I repeat, with fresh rebellion
but to you, it's just a whisper
so you hear nothing
'til my lips are at your grimy ear
and now it is too late
After I have done, you thump behind me down the cellar stairs, eyes aglitter
And leaning awkwardly against the roughened wall,
stare past me as I work
I may now speak my mind unmolested,
while you, of course, can make no further
comment
These shaken walls hold sentences for far too many ghosts
and tomorrow, I'll begin to tear them down
but for now, I eulogize at the height of my voice
so I can't hear you when you whisper
Despite being atheist,
I would nonetheless bet
dollars to donuts
(Dunkin and/or other wise)
Jesus would be mighty pleased
to know, his sir name
linkedin with commercial ties
no matter, he might not garner
a percentage of profits,
especially if he
unwittingly gets trampled
to death by madding
flash mob crowd source
rushing to snap up
latest door prize
as venders resort to all
manner of (subliminally
manipulative) marketing techniques
to lure patrons, (especially
photo opportunities with
one of the many
"FAKE" donned Santa
Claus), the latter,
who would lionize
their son(s) and/or
daughter(s), subsequently
guaranteeing, nailing crosswise,
and clinching safeguards
immunizing against the Grinch
a sure fire way to
guarantee future generations
will become avid consumers,
who reverently, obsequiously,
and devoutly idolize
supporting the apostles
of commercialization
nearly every
occasion to finalize (all sales)
pennies on the dollar,
where merchants feign
going for broke, and capitalize
eulogize, and idealize
the mighty buck
staging "FAKE"
news worthy shoppers
to burst into tears
crying on command,
and all manner of pathos
pulling ploys nsync king
"shameful guilt" that squares
with being ostracized, hash-tagged,
and demonized Scrooge.
Many intimates might collapse, we realize,
And direct us to strive solely in this place,
There's nearly a ray of hope in the eagle's eyes,
To shed the ode's tear without further grace.
We say he imparted when we survey his space,
Some are eager, friends return as we eulogize,
Angels beset him and herald his embrace,
Many intimates might collapse, we realize.
Adversity is forlorn, no matter how time flies,
A gone friend feels like a limb misplace,
Assigning a friend's loss bond ethical mates,
And direct us to strive solely in this place.
Our chums are silent, yet they've left men race,
They went one step down a path we will equalize,
Enjoying a friend may no more provide solace,
There's nearly a ray of hope in the eagle's eyes.
Sadness confines us with infinity-long ties,
Some folk enters our life forbear a long trace,
Of our feelings, causing irreversibly applies,
To shed the ode's tear without further grace.
We can't stop preferring a friend since he dies,
Notably, if he's worthier than anyone, you notice,
Splitting from living pals, anguish amplifies,
When relished life fully and truly, fate may glance.
Written: June 7, 2022
"He murders and then walks in the funeral procession."
You ask me why the tears
Why the sad face
And inside I laugh
At your gull in asking
When you know full well
You are a murderer
And yet
You walk in the funeral profession of my heart
Wailing and mourning
Dressed in black
Crying tears made of glass
Manufactured perfection
Each “drop”
shattering as it hits the ground
A sound
Only I hear
You eulogize me
Speaking of my wonderful traits
What made me the beautiful woman
Everyone loved and wanted to be with
Everyone but you
Everyone but YOU saw my real beauty
The crimson glory of my robe
The scent of my being
YOU saw the thorn
Yet today
You call me a rose
You ask me why I weep
You ask me why I mourn
You murdered my heart
Yet you walk in the funeral procession
The last laugh is on you
For after 3 days
I will rise again
I need to rest in this tomb
Before I see the light of day
Before I awake to newness of life
But alas...
ALAS...
You will not be there
To witness
My resurrection day.
Eileen Manassian