Long Gravestone Poems
Long Gravestone Poems. Below are the most popular long Gravestone by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gravestone poems by poem length and keyword.
Mossy vines served as camouflage for a decaying headstone
This was the first time I’d laid eyes on your final resting place
In front of me stood a grey granite slab covered in emerald moss
Green ivy clung to the stone and snaked round the nearby yew tree
It was evident your grave had not been visited for many many years
In fact, until ten days ago I didn’t know you existed …
A family secret kept hidden from me by my elderly ‘mother’
It wasn’t until her recent death I discovered the real truth
At the will reading the lawyer presented me with an envelope
Spidery handwriting revealed that my real mother died in childbirth
I discovered that I’d been adopted; my real name was Sara James
Seeing my original birth certificate for the first time was a huge shock
Now I know the reason I felt that I never belonged
With my raven hair and pale skin I looked very different from my sister Beth
I’d been told I looked like my great aunt and I’d never queried this
Now I stand in front of the plot where my real mother is buried
I spend an hour weeding, tidying and cleaning the gravestone
Rivers of tears run down my face when I finally reveal the inscription
Carved in the decaying stone I read
Ellen James - died 17th April 1953 aged 33
Fell asleep with her tiny angel
Susan James - died 17th April 1953 born sleeping
Family secrets kept hidden in the graveyard
Sobbing bitter tears I kneel down and leave a red rose
For my mother and my twin sister that until today I never knew existed
Fictional write for Camouflage me a Poem Contest Sponsored by Broken Wings
Theme 1 chosen - Mossy vines served as camouflage for a decaying headstone
08~04~16
A fierce tornado passed our home that day,
with mighty winds that tore the land apart.
Downfallen trees dredged up huge roots that lay
bare everywhere- how this did break my heart.
The backhoe came- we told them where to start,
for our sweet cat was buried neath that one.
With hopeful tears, and earnest search begun-
while sifting through debris- it was clear that
recovery of her could not be done.
Lost to the wind- our dear, Felisha cat.
August 5, 2020
Contest: Pick-A-Title, Vol 21 - Dizain
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
True Story~ May 2018
(only a piece of her gravestone was found)
Respect the Lives
Freedom. Independency. Free will
A people is mind. A mind is one's own
Do not tramp, do not trampl on live
My life is down. Needed the only life
Need, only yours, do not kill yours
I love you, my respect yours. Rose
Roses in the garden
Roses in the child’s garden
Roses in the playgrounds
Red roses in our living room
Roses, roses
And more, more
Roses, roses, roses
Roses, roses
In the house
Roses, roses
Roses, roses
In the room
In our bedroom
Roses and a cross
In the funeral home
My portrait on a tomb
Yeah, death is rose
The medicine, the rose
I find you in death the rose
Death turned into life
The roses gave me love
Black roses, white roses
No more stops
Soul is rose, flies
Rose, rose, rose, rose
No more human love
No more selfish heart
Roses, roses, roses, roses
A demonic lady
Kissing me, a rose
Beautiful black rose
I live again
In Hell
With a Rose
All the roses dried
All gone to dust
In the human world
On my gravestone
I love
Forever
My rose
Roses
Roses
Roses
Drowned at sea,
Jumped from roof,
Poison in tea,
Death, Suicide, Murder,
Heat lack,
Hanged at park,
Stabbed in back,
Death, Suicide, Murder,
Old age,
Gun target,
Hospital stage,
Death, Murder, Suicide,
Hit head,
Gun to head,
Seeing red,
Death, Suicide, Murder,
House on fire,
Slit wrists, throat,
Strangled by liar,
Death, Suicide, Murder,
Car crash,
Bashed up,
Drug stash,
Death, Murder, Suicide,
Bit by snake,
Drunk bleach,
Held in lake,
Death, Suicide, Murder,
Got sick,
Jumped at car,
Sharpened stick,
Death, Suicide, Murder,
Gravestone,
Body found,
All alone,
Death, Murder, Suicide,
Who knew,
So many ways to die,
So sad, but true,
Goodbye.
Barren fields of November
Corn stalks ragged
broken soldiers
bleak beauty
stripped of green
Beige bones on autumn's carpet
Margins of daylight that disappear
blending frost to the pinched ground
Corrosive wind like a wet slide of mourning
seamlessly folded into what
the landscape feels
Crows circle in their swoops of survival
seeking the scarce sweet zones of
lost kernels
Momentum to snatch scraps, bits of decay
in field rows that crack like smiles
Under a moody sky, gravestone gray
sparked by the cawing of crows
that scrubs us clean
in the exit wounds of autumn.
Walking through the graveyard,
bird songs in the air;
sunlight makes it hard to see,
that death is everywhere.
Did I hear my name called?
oh, must be the wind-
it is so very peaceful here,
I could linger for hours.
I wander past the gravestones,
and hear my name again;
no one is there- sure of that,
I'm scared- I've gone insane!
I'm feeling quite odd and strange,
like an observer- from afar;
I have on my best dress,
meant for special occasions.
Again, I hear my name, and turn,
I see her standing there;
she smiles, her pretty smile for me,
the breeze blows through her hair.
My true love takes my hand,
impossible I weep- he has died;
but here he is just as I recall,
and I fall into his waiting arms.
Could it be the two of us again,
Oh, I have missed you my love;
looking into my eyes- she whispers,
I missed you every moment.
Looking at the gravestone at their feet.
she gasps- both our names are etched;
he sighs, now you understand, my love,
and unseen they embrace in death.
dappled the sun upon their gravestone . . .
______________________
July 22, 2018
Poetry/Verse/Collaboration/The Graveyard
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1045-134-01
All Rights Reserved. Written by Jack Horne
and Dear Heart aka Broken Wings
I once encountered a mountain, I didn’t want to climb
So, I stood and viewed its beauty, left everything else behind
I once encountered pouring rain and didn’t want to get wet
I chose to watch and listen to soothing sound without regret
I once felt pain in my heart so deep, I couldn’t move so I had to re-start
All the things I had abandoned, so that I would not fall apart
I once stood in a graveyard, afraid to face the next day
Left gifts by a gravestone, while I stood and chose to pray
Many times through the years, beaten by loss and sorrow
Released by tears that I shed, with dreams I chose to follow
I once wondered while standing in a meadow, why I am still here?
So, I assumed it is to give more, open up and overcome my fear
Through the valleys and peaks of life, I know I did my best
To keep on going at all costs and challenge every single test
Moving through transition with things that came my way
Led me here so I am able, to write about it all today
Heidi Sands
11/19/18
will this matter in one year?
the backdrop of a full life
i watch the movements of the conductor
as he weaves between the instruments
and the house lights struggle to follow him
he knocks into a french horn
and there is a moment of giddiness
a moment of anger
there is an exchange of words, beyond banter
and luckily, they are not overheard
over the optimal acoustics and architectural splendor
the jacket needs to be readjusted
and a handkerchief is revealed from the inside pocket
as he wipes his brow and continues
continues to stare at the horn player
and the battle ends with the conductor
finding his way to the podium
the bloke playing the triangle whispers to the horn bloke,
"simply disengage, don't make eye contact,
and remove yourself from the situation."
the conductor turns, under the stage overhang
and mouths to the horn, "let's dance."
he smiles, then returns and his bow is made
put 'that's all folks' on his gravestone
THE CHRONOPHAGE
Ghostly levitating on the Cambridge street since 2008,
the Corpus Clock reveals the ugly-beauty of time.
A gleaming gold-plated clock facade attracts you,
the malicious monster moving mechanically
repulses you. It controls the whole clock,
creating a constant grinding noise.
The hour is tolled by the sound
of a chain clanking into
a coffin hidden in
the back of the
clock.
Once every five moments, the clock face tells the time correctly.
The chronology of chronometry is cast aside allegorically for a
second or two. The pendulum pulses purposefully making
the display lights freeze, fall behind and then fire ahead.
Thousands of tourists take photographs of the artwork.
While students and residents rush by the window, it’s
merciless message ringing upon death minds.
If you stop and stare for it long enough,
you see your warped reflection.
Am I using time wisely or not?
Much like the carvings written upon an ancient gravestone,
below states ‘mundus transit et concupiscentia eius’.
The Chronophage knows you have read this
inscription. It’s clawed clockwork teeth tells
you the ticking truth; “Time is not on your
side. I’ll eat up every minute of your life
and as soon as one has gone, I’ll be
salivating for the next.”
Time is ticking…
Grab a hold of me gently
Don't jab my heart with this cruel knife
Understand me completely
I'm like a crab, living in its shell all my life
Shelter me in my cell
Hell broke loose in my heavenly dwelling place in which I dwell
We are both lost, I can tell
Selling my soul to the angels above as my spirit goes pell-mell
Assuming life is an easy game of hide 'n seek...I will reach to the Mountain's peak
I'm weeping tears of joy like a boy who found his lost toy, as small as tinfoil
I'm in the brink of ruin, but I'm perishing away what makes me weak --
Hopelessness that dares to break me and reduce me to toil...coiling in shocking turmoil
Majestic and precious is your smile
You melted away my perilous pile
Of fretfulness and defiled me with lament
Here I am, I write this down on my gravestone that all my sins I have done in this lifetime...I forever repent...
I got out of hand, so I repent...
I don't want to die in fire forevermore
Understand, I never meant
To hurt you the way I did before
I am forgiven to the core
I promise I won't do it once more
I am given a second chance beforehand
To change my ways before I live life in this dance, in which I take your hand
What I wrote on my gravestone
Understand that you're not alone
We feel dead inside on our own and we can comprehend us and depend on each other
Maybe, one day, I will answer my phone and you'll be on the other end, unless you love another