Long Eulogized Poems
Long Eulogized Poems. Below are the most popular long Eulogized by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Eulogized poems by poem length and keyword.
I Am Known
Space:
endless expanse, eternal, inexorable.
Time:
Unknowable, from unbeginning befores, untill unending tomorrows.
An ache in my mind,
A weakness in my knees,
A dread in my bowels,
A tremor in my hand,
A widening of my eyes.
I move myself from point A……to point B.
Nothing else can I control but Me.
I draw a margin; fence in what I can...
THE CHALK OUTLINE OF EVERY MORTAL MAN.
Where I begin must be defined.
Where I end debated by the wise.
Utilized, understood, unknowable, unearthed.
Enter: ... examined, excepted, eulogized ... Exit.
Planted, placed, positioned, pushed, pulled, PUT.
A single grain of sand; one lonely star; a tiny blade of grass; who knows who you are?
One of the many billions of microscopic seeds sown,
But the planter is Great and I am...
...Known.
Her smile was lopsided, crooked
And her eyes had lost their shine
In a wheelchair bound and broken
Sat this mother dear of mine
Once the one that they called “Sunshine”
Now was bowed with grief and care
Garbled speech and eyes unfocused
Made the people stop and stare
Yet in this woman there was hidden
Beauty of the rarest kind
Love for God and for her family
Love for words all graced her mind
She was brave and she was noble
Took the falls and burns and smiled
Knowing that her child, a daughter
Lived with fear so justified
People did not see the beauty
Hidden in her crumpled form
All that they could show was pity
Perhaps that is just the norm
But in her dear withered body
MS had so brutalized
Was a mother’s lasting beauty
That her daughter eulogized
Once a flower brightly blooming
In the garden of my home
She remains my flower ever
In the memories where I roam
Eileen Manassian
I grew up knowing my mother was ill and that she would eventually die due to MS. I lost my Mama on March 19, 2000. I still miss her...Her name? Angel. That was my Mama's name. When she was younger, they used to call her Sunshine because of her dazzling smile....
More poems I've written about my Mama:
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/may_17_429673
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/my_mothers_daughter_480741
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/march_19__464436
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/i_remember_you_443028
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_hypochondriac_429384
Sometimes when I write, I tend to stretch the truth.
Same as when I gossip; I've done that since my youth.
It's not so much deliberate, but to tell a story well,
Folks tend to stray from tedious facts to magnify the tale.
This habit's often utilized a bit, I have surmised,
In speeches heard at funerals for loved ones eulogized.
By writers of the news I'd say it ought not be employed.
But “doozies” can be found inside almost any tabloid.
I think, for my defense, especially writing nonsense,
I need to find the place to get my own poetic license.
I pose to you this question- In my practice as a poet,
If I get myself a license then, to whom should I then show it?
for Let 'er rip (the mention of poetic license made me want to do this one!)
Memorial service ~10:00 A.M. October 21st, 2020...
at Cherry Hill, New Jersey Unitarian Fellowship
Boyce Brandon Harris cremains
(approximately one fourth entire contents)
offered, interred, and eulogized
within ‘Tristan’s Pollinator Garden,'
which constitutes minute arboretum
bore witness to immediate family of said deceased
yours truly plus eldest and youngest sister
each of us communicated solemn words
to recall admirable, inimitable,
and unfathomable father,
whose passing (evident previous six months,
whereby his declining physical health)
unfettered, presaged, and indicated imminent death
now his invisible spirit
dwells amidst the spiritual abodes
encompassing three offspring,
he and the late Harriet Harris begat,
whose lives analogous
to quasi orphaned grown children
all adults with independent lives of their own.
We (progeny of our father and mother,
the latter deceased
approximately fifteen and a half years)
convened at above mentioned site
see fourth line of poem
to consecrate, designate, and generate
extemporaneous heartfelt sentiments
honoring his wishes,
mixing joys and sorrows,
regaling poignant occasions
before shoveling soil
punctuated silent benediction
courtesy Reverend Margret A. O'Neall,
Developmental Minister eloquently enunciated
reassuring, healing, and comforting words
to small congregating crowd
comprising half dozen plus people.
Come spring two thousand twenty one
a hearty shrub or tree,
(yet to be decided upon)
will be planted within sanctioned
space, whereby Mother Earth
will allow, enable, and provide
nondescript ashes to mingle
subterranean flora and fauna,
whence roots of former will help filtrate
cremated body once housing
Boyce Brandon Harris.
He who helped bring us
(meaning Amélie, Matthew and Shari)
into existence forever spirited into the future
linkedin by actions
genetically, indirectly and knowingly
hashtagged, kickstarted and tweeted
said son and daughters
who possess his corporeal heritage.
Thinker, scholar, sophist; Duns was, yet, a humanist,
His thoughts actions exhibited him as true philanthropist…!
Constructing a metaphysical argument, he said,
Of the existence of God, that like rivers moves ahead…!
Aristotle or Aquinas need not be great masters,
When divine decree, like creation, does all things alters...!
A Franciscan priest and theologian, he explained,
The Immaculate Conception, with due coherence gained...!
Theology should be a sensible science of God,
Human beings should find love of Trinity never flawed...!
He differentiated faith of heart from thought of head,
Added tinges of humanity, and true love did spread...!
By John Paul II was John Scotus Duns canonized,
For metaphysics with Christian faith, he is eulogized...!
18 March 2022
John Duns Scotus Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joe Maverick
With the rhythm of your passionate poetry,
rolled the silver-crested wave of romanticism,
inundating the shore of English literature,
where you emerged as the seminal figure.
The beauteous kaleidoscopic natural world
imparted didactic quality to your poems,
finding connection between nature and your soul,
and between the self and matchless imagination.
The color, fragrance and sounds of spring,
the shine of autumn sky, sparkle of sun-soaked water,
made lasting romantic impression in your mind,
influencing the growth of your poetic brilliance.
You had firm faith in the magnificence of nature
as the prime source of true happiness and joy,
that could enhance the scope of kindheartedness,
enlighten the spiritual awareness of individualism.
A worshipper of nature, you eulogized its charm,
when you felt you “wandered lonely as a cloud”,
merged with the flushing splendor of landscape,
to be aptly christened as the poet of nature.
You captured the cadenced whisper of nature
in the swaying golden daffodils and wandering clouds,
far away from the medley of lively crowd,
distant from the domain of emotions and dreams.
Your profound personal romantic linkage with nature
left no space for complexities of human experience.
If entwinned with the threads of human nature
your lyrical beauty could’ve adorned universal sensibility.
TRIBUTARY according to Merriam-Webster:
1 : a stream feeding a larger stream or a lake
2 : a ruler or state that pays tribute to a conqueror
Revival under the big tent,
a paradigm of revelation,
a simple message:
death’s but an open eye for life.
A candlelight service
that goes on and on with friends,
new ones made unto the great by and by.
Burning bright ever bright!
Billy Graham sees God’s work
that was placed in his hands
for a very long season, in mortal years.
Many young now learn his name.
Who now shall race the eternal flame?
God looks upon earth
for a willing soul —
a jewel in the making,
to toil in this tattered tapestry,
spurring on its loveliness.
Billy Graham must be eulogized,
but not for his name’s sake,
but for the kingdom to come —
the one of His Father.
Ears open wide for a snuff?
Or will the ears of your heart ring
in anticipation, remain
in the open arms of love?
3/2/2018
John 3:16 NIV — For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.
The sun rose in the west today – or, perhaps, I was standing on my head?
I went to a funeral for my very best friend, but the chap wasn’t even dead!
Said he wanted to be eulogized while drinking a pint of beer.
I think the things we said about him, weren’t exactly what he wanted to hear.
“He was, or is, an egotistical old bastard – doesn’t surprise me in the least,
that he wants to attend his own funeral service – God, what a horrible beast!”
And that, my friends, was from his Mom; the best friend a boy ever had.
“When finally they put his body in the ground, I think we’ll all be glad.”
Egad!
Global warming took a holiday, as the snow piled up real high;
that bugger for whom we passed the plate, took out his wooden eye.
The casket was full of cold cuts;
The bartender doubled as the priest;
I took another shot of tequila,
while the sun started setting in the east.
The ladies started undressing;
my organ started to rise;
I played Beethoven’s “Requiem”,
with it pointing to the skies.
The only tears that were shed today belonged to the corpse who was still alive –
His ex wife sang that old Gloria Gaynor tune, “You know, I will survive!”
The next time he throws a party for himself,
I think he’ll choose a different theme –
And maybe the people who come and get drunk
won’t be so awfully mean!
"Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher"
William Wordsworth
With the rhythm of his passionate poetry,
rolled the silver-crested wave of romanticism,
inundating the shore of English literature,
where he emerged as the seminal figure.
The beauteous natural world
imparted didactic quality to his poems,
finding correspondence between nature and soul,
and between self and matchless imagination.
The color, fragrance and sounds of spring,
shine of autumn sky, sparkle of sun-soaked water,
made lasting romantic impression in his mind,
influencing the growth of his poetic genius.
He had firm faith in the magnificence of nature
as the prime source of true happiness and joy,
that could enlighten the kindheartedness,
and enhance the spiritual awareness.
A worshipper of nature, he eulogized its charm,
captured the flushing splendor of the landscape
when he felt he “wandered lonely as a cloud”,
to be aptly christened as the poet of nature.
______________
January 16, 2023
Contest : Beloved Poets
Sponsored by : Regina McIntosh
(Revised and changed)
O victim of time's rage,
Of today's ill times and age,
Victim of nurtured false image!
O ye much-eulogized Goddess,
Deemed powerful and loving no less,
Few care if ye do or not bless.
If ladles and the like ye wield,
Home-making thrusted as your field,
Ye know, as field it fails to yield.
What power can wield your pots and pans?
Still, ye wield ah what techno yen!
In varied fields ye vie with ken.
And yet, nor are ye much empowered,
Nor yet with due fair respect heard,
Society hast your equity soured.
With a million things to meddle,
Tireless upon a sad saddle,
With what vigour ye still juggle.
O ye Home-maker so handsome,
Look at still your hubby’s ho-hum:
He says: she! She just stays at home!
________________________________
This ode addresses the plight of women at large as so-called home-makers. The last line highlights this. A man, when asked as to what his wife was doing, says, 'she just stays at home! Alas, times change and still stay stagnant!
Ode | 19.12.2019 |