Long In memory of Poems
Long In memory of Poems. Below are the most popular long In memory of by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long In memory of poems by poem length and keyword.
Using yesterday's news as a table cover.
While painting these blank wooden coasters.
Firstly applying coated layers of metallic silver,
Then stamping flowers in gold and red colours.
They say to try to preserve each fragile flower
That I chose from her funeral's viewing casket.
It's just I've no idea how, but I do still love her,
So instead I'll dip them in a paint-filled basket.
I decided instead of only grieving her absence,
I'll let my inner muse be creatively so free,
Make presents; make better known presence.
I realize I rather much be like her: keep busy.
So I'll make use of my grandma's newspapers,
In memory of her strengths as a lovely woman.
I'll be like her: one whose love never wavers.
I also now realize who I am as my own person.
Heaven's Highway
(In Memory Of My Dad)
By Robert Austin Allison
Some folks think I'm joking,
Others say No Way, Come on!
Fifteen years from us,
Is how long you've been gone.
The hours turned into days,
The days turned into years.
It seems like only yesterday,
Your passing brought us to tears.
January 16th (2005) - we said goodbye,
The day God called you from on high.
"Welcome my Son, into Heaven."
At the young age of only fifty seven.
Construction work you did all your life,
You left behind two sons and a wife.
You could not stay for one more day,
God needed you on Heaven's Highway.
Created July 8, 2020
Lord, thank you for this boy,
Who fed me and gave me a nice home;
Thank you for my good fate,
You didn't allow me to stay
With the street dogs and went on astray.
I am asking you to bless me and my little master,
To keep us both safe tonight,
And far from mischievous chiefs and intruders,
Pour upon us your Holy Spirit,
That we may both have a good night sleep.
As we both lay down on the cozy bed,
Give us a wonderful dream,
Dream........dream.......dream.. and dream,
Of that biggest bone which in my life I haven't yet seen,
And Lord, please save my loudest voice,
For tomorrow's duty of barking and guarding.
Note: The idea was conceived from a beautiful picture of a boy with his dog praying before going to bed. The picture was taken from the internet. They are so cute! From this poem where I created a short movie in memory of my dog, Saver.
In Memory of the soldiers brought home
on 2 June 2016
They Came Home Today
by Robert (Bob) Moore
They are finally coming home today
those, who were left behind
to a different country,
and to a different time
the one they left was patriotic,
Aussie and True Blue
but now, you could be in strife
if the Aussie Flag you flew
They gave their lives, while fighting for,
a dream we’ve long forgot
and in a far and distant land
a lonely grave their lot
But now these warriors have returned
to their own pleasant land
just hope that we remember
the reason they took their stand
So you and I could live with freedom
and have peace in our lives each day
a country well worth dying for
in a land so far away
And if they could but look around
I wonder what they’d see
is this why they fought and died
and the future they thought would be
Lest We Forget
Babies of Beslan............
The darkest day in history,
Brought tears to my eyes.
Many Russians murdered,
In a mass of horrid cries.
Hundreds of innocent people,
Seen fleeing through the streets.
Bodies thrown onto the verge,
In a sea of blood-stained sheets.
So many kept within a school,
Being held against their will.
Suicide bombers with booby traps,
That care not who they kill.
An act by Chechen rebels,
Seeking freedom for their kin.
With scenes of utter carnage,
From those terrorists within.
Semi-naked children,
Seen running through the street.
The Chechen rebels in the school,
Shooting at their feet.
Bombs and bullets filled the air,
As the smoke engulfed the skies.
People running from the school,
With terror stricken eyes.
Such barbaric bloody actions,
Brought death and undue pain.
The heart of the Beslan community,
Won't see their like again.
May the Lord our God watch over you,
May he guide you by his light.
May he hold you in his arms again,
And keep you safe tonight...........
In memory of the children and teachers of the Beslan school massacre.
It feels like just yesterday I saw you smiling,
and talking in whispering notes,
and it's today that you marked your new journey.
The news that brought tears to my eyes,
and you made me remember, what it was like to cry.
Aghast I am that,
never again to you, I will say hello.
It was hard to see you in eternal sleep,
clad in white, covered in flowers.
Yet my heart still says,
you would always stay around.
Your voice so subtle,
yet your wisdom and thoughts so profound.
Now you in that heavenly place,
on the wings of the heavenly dove,
soaring so high above.
As today you parted away in silence and tears,
to disembody for a new journey,
broken and shattered I am,
I regret never saying how much I love you,
and in silence, I grieve.
Let me cry myself to sleep at night,
and pray that Jesus keeps your soul at peace.
Now and forever,
you will be the one I always admired.
©Chitra Arun
(* In the memory of my beloved Uncle Eapen, who now rests peacefully in the heavenly abode)
Reign of terror plays out
Endless nights as victims shout
So many good ones vanish
People must hide their anguish
Equality is a forbidden word
Community's voice tries to be heard
Together they stand and die
Say a little prayer - then cry
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In memory of Aretha Franklin, singer, songwriter, actress, pianist, and civil rights activist, who died 16 August 2018.
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Poetry Soup Featured Poem: November 1, 2020. In 2022, it was published in PS: It's Still Poetry.
He is dead. My beloved teacher is gone.
Like the burning sun, with knowledge he shone
A man of letters, he would voice his thoughts
Costing him dear ever and anon
Gone is he who was out of place
A man that laughed in the faith’s face
The letter and fetor of tradition
Could not fetter his rational race
Poverty, problems, pains and plight
never bereaved him of his mental might.
Proud, profound, and thoughtful as he was
Stoop he would not to what was not right
Language pregnant, words exquisite
At bunkum he cut with his acid wit
To paper his pen whenever he set
To our ignorance, we all would admit
He always swam against the tide.
Many he spurned in his pride.
His abrasiveness and sullen facade
From so many, his kind heart would hide
What most people considered gospel
Neither would he buy, nor would he sell
Brains his ever burgeoning belonging
Gave him direction, one thing you could tell
Mediocrity he could never take
Averageness ran counter to his make
In Rome when he was, Roman he was not
An authentic man, he was never fake
Stabbed by the ruthless knife
of death, was his fruitful life.
Too young he died and with his death
Sadness rained down. Sorrow ran rife
In the face of death, nothing can be done
All that lives and is, one day will be gone
Yet his legacy, a blazing torch
Weathers the woes and will never wan.
In person though I’ll meet him nevermore
His teachings remain with me evermore
A self-made soul and a man of mark
He was what he was, a wisdom ore.
Oh Garthy
Its Anzac Day
Again
That day
Which should be for
Old men
And best forgotten memories
Yet here we are
Thinking of you
And those members
Of that battalion
Oh Garthy
Its Anzac Day again
Another sad day
For those
That loved you
Miss you
A Facebook page
Doesn’t replace you
Or those members
Of that battalion
Oh Garthy
Its Anzac Day again
How mothers weep
And friends
Have troubled sleep
A commission
Won’t help those
Find peace in their hearts
For you
Or those
Of that
Lost Battalion
Oh Garthy
Its Anzac Day again
The Day I keep thinking
That help was so close
But you
So far away
If only I could
Of taught you
How to replace
Trauma and pain
With meaning
And let it go
But
Go you did
The friends and family
You left
To pick up pieces of others
Left traumatised
And in pain
The ripples
Of our actions
Beyond the selfishness
Of the tunnel view
You had
And those
Of that battalion
I was sad
I was angry
I was traumatised
To learn the Truth
The failure
Of command
That boosted
The numbers
Of that lost Battalion
Oh Garthy
Its Anzac Day again
Some of us remember
Some of us mourn
Members of that Battalion
That no one
Wants to own
No one wants to lead
And no one wants to mention
Yet
You all live on
In the hearts
Of those
You left behind
Its Anzac Day Again
Lest we forget
In Memory of
Pte Daniel Garforth
And those
Of that Battalion
Crying purple tears
You were so generous in sharing your gift to the world
You always poured your heart and soul into your music
Rather...music poured it's heart and soul into you
Your music was a beacon of hope in this darkened world
Shining so brightly...more brightly than anyone else before you
Your music brought together cultures and colours
into a sonorous and harmonious chorus.
Your hopes and dreams for a just world,
where peace and harmony would reign
never came true for you...at least not yet
Although you died today, you will live on in your music
Your talent will continue to inspire for generations.
Your legacy of goodwill benevolence and kindness
will never be forgotten all through the years
Until you're back again for one more encore
we'll keep on crying purple tears.
In memory of Prince 1958-2016
John Derek Hamilton
April21,2016