Long Memorial service Poems
Long Memorial service Poems. Below are the most popular long Memorial service by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Memorial service poems by poem length and keyword.
There'll be another empty cot on the camp ground tonight.
Alas, a gallant soldier gave his all in the frightful fight.
His anguished pleas for peace were unheard o'er the battle's roar.
Will humankind ever learn from the barbarous futility of war?
There'll be a pair of empty boots at his memorial service today.
His helmet, rifle and identification tags will also be on display.
Also shown is a photo of a lad in the uniform he proudly wore.
Will humankind ever learn from the horrible futility of war?
Empty arms now hang limply that once held him in fond embrace.
Empty hearts that can only be consoled by the Heavenly Father's grace.
Just a simple marble stone will hallow his name forever more.
Will humankind ever learn from the disastrous futility of war?
At the holiday table this year there'll be an empty chair,
Tho' he'll be absent, they will e'er feel his presence there,
As they reminisce about their hero in precious family lore.
Will humankind ever learn from the merciless futility of war?
Oh! That nations would simply follow the Master's Golden Rule,
Practice brotherhood and learn unto others to be less cruel,
And eliminate for all time such savagery to its very core!
Will humankind ever learn from the brutal futility of war?
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Mein kampf synonymous as a blooper
Writer of these words,
a former Lower Providence inhabitant,
who dwelled within darkest depths
of Dante Alighieri's inferno
for most of his outlandish, impish,
and devilish growing up years
witnessed microscopic scrimmage,
where spermatozoan with most forcefulness
muscled itself handedly,
magnificently, and splendidly
envision unicellular olympic competition,
yours truly swimmingly
begot during the heat
of parents being passionately fruitful
courtesy diploid erogenous frisson
between my then searingly
robust virile father and fecund mother
~ late March/early April 1958
ushered seminal moment
post ova fertilization realization
courtesy male gamete
penetrating zona pellucida
a glycoprotein layer surrounding the oocyte
triggering cell bait multiplication
subsequently yielding male
gendered offspring and sole son
hashtagged as uber twittering, snapchatting,
shutterflying super duper
cute little boy with short strawberry blond hair,
whose solitudinarian nature
became quite evident when he displayed
acute social withdrawal
upon off fish shill commencement
getting schooled as a grouper
by mister Hooper,
who made his debut
appearance on Sesame Street
November 10, 1969
as storied and staple long time resident
on above named television show
until March 18, 1983,
beloved by adults and children alike
within make believe community
(a conglomerate of real and imaginary locales)
peopled with proprietary named characters
for any of a number of humorously grotesque
glove or rod puppets and marionettes,
chiefly representing animals,
first popularized, idolized,
dramatized, capitalized, and actualized
by the children's television programme
Sesame Street (1969-) and more recently
in The Muppet Show (1976-80).
Also: a toy made to resemble one of these
ingenious brainchild of Jim Maury Henson
an American puppeteer, animator, actor,
and filmmaker who achieved worldwide
notability as the creator of the Muppets
which series originated as two pilot episodes
produced by Henson for ABC in 1974 and 1975.
Henson's shocking, sudden death occurred on May 16, 1990 of organ failure resulting from streptococcal toxic shock syndrome. An emotional memorial service was held five days later at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City.
IF DEATH SHOULD VISIT ME TODAY
Whether young or old and gray
As earthly life is swept away
Please do not mourn, do not be sad
Just think of joy yet to be had.
Set loose from flesh- forever free
To sail a calmer, endless sea
Eternity, my newfound home
Within which I will freely roam
Inside a greater spirit shell
For then my soul will grow and dwell
Upon the peace, I will collect.
But most of all, you must reflect
We'll meet again in time, my dears
In other worlds- in other years
Beyond the light of cosmic ray
Beyond the sight of human clay
IF DEATH SHOULD VISIT ME TODAY
~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Funeral, Eulogy, or Memorial Service Poem
Sponsor: Team PoetrySoup
Judged: 07/02/2019
~2nd Place~
Contest: Any Sad Poem
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Judged: 11/03/2015
~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: The Last Love Letter
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
September 24, 2014
This is a reversible poem (can be read up or down) that I wrote years ago,
and which will be a part of MY eulogy when I pass, to help my loved-ones
cope with knowing that I will be okay.
it's by the group "Switch"
for memorial service 9/29/10
i'm not worried bout a doggone thing
i'll take anything you bring
although i love the sunshine
i still accept the rain
and when i'm in a lonely mood
and i just can't be with you
i try everything to occupy my mind
but there is no substitute
thinking about all that life would bring
when your not around
i just can't seem to find my way
i dont even know up from down
but sence i've had you in my life
all things can be found
strong and true baby
comming from you
yeah yeah yeah yeah
i don't worry about what the people say
in my life today
although they try to say
your not the one for me
i loved you anyway
their intentions might be cool
and if what they say is true
there is more to you than they can ever know
and they don't even know you
thinking about all that life would be
when your not around
i just can't seem to find my way
i dont even know up from down
but sence i've had you in my life
all things can be found
strong and true baby
comming from you
you, i call your name girl
when ever i am lonely
i call your name
when i'm in the of love
i think of you and it eases the pain
take away the pain
(the morning i was working for some reason i played this song over and over and over
again and again the whole morning. later that after noon i receieved my tragic news
about april. later it came to me that this is the song that she want's me to sing. it truely
is a song about us.)
Form:
In 2020 I wish I had not let my mother die,
but bone cancer has a mind of its own, and does not ask permission
I am glad we had her memorial service on February second
For other mothers were buried in March
And the congregation was limited to ten mourners.
I am glad that I painted forty new canvases, and had the time.
In 2020 I wish I had more incentive to watch the U-tube videos
That showed me how to use GoogleClassroom and Zoom
As we have been using them extensively for eight months now
Man, I really really really wish I had paid more attention
how to set up appointments and how the calendar interacts with these programs. I feel happy that I wrote over two thousand poems though.
In 2020 I am glad that I got to see four of my grandchildren,
But feel sad that it has been a year since I have seen the other six.
I regret having shingles and asthma,
for these ailments have kept me from fully living this pandemic year.
It has kept me home, “safely” sheltered in place.
I regret my weight gain, but understand it.
Eating has been my only comfort in 2020.
I am excited to say I am eating a Milky Way candy bar right now.
2020 weirdest year in my sixty-eight years
I was glad my mother’s memorial service was Feb second
Because the next month we would have had to limit to ten
And we had over seventy attend
2020 strangest election in the history of US
I cannot ever recall anything like it
I never want to see anything like it again either
I mean EVER
2020 our school shut down for a year
From March 13th to March 8th
The children missed a year
Online school is not the same
2020 Please never repeat yourself
Our morale, and our health cannot take it
This mask-wearing is ridiculous.
I wish people would take precautions.
Last year I wrote of serendipity…how out of nowhere…in a snap
when we least expect it…life…can drop a blessing in our lap.
Yesterday was Milt’s memorial service…to our son Bryan he was a good friend.
Since the service was in Asheville, North Carolina…we could not attend.
The service began at 2:00 P.M. so to honor the friendship they had built
at 2:00 P.M. we stopped for a moment to remember…and say a prayer for Milt.
Everyone who knew Milt loved him…and since we both felt the same
as a lasting tribute to him we’re having a tree planted in his name.
We learned from Bryan who attended the service that Milt had always been drawn
to the teachings and the writings of the author Kahlil Gibran.
Skip ahead to last evening…I was tidying up the bookstore…making sure everything was neat
when a book flew off the shelf…and landed face down at my feet.
I had already finished tidying and all the customers had gone.
When I picked up the book and turned it over…
it was The Prophet…by Kahlil Gibran!
Skip farther ahead to this morning (I go in early to clean the store)
when I see this bookmark about trees lying in front of me on the floor.
I knew this bookmark wasn’t there when I closed the store last night….
and the moment that I saw it…I smiled at the sight.
I can only imagine Milt had a hand in this book and bookmark finding their way to me…
as a way of saying how he enjoyed Bryan’s friendship
and to say thank you for planting him a tree.
Oh! I bought the book and the bookmark…thinking they are divinely haunted..
and I’ll be handing them off to Bryan the next time we see him…
because I think that’s what Milt would have wanted.
So thank you Milt for a little serendipity…how you out of nowhere…in a snap
when I certainly wasn’t expecting it…you dropped two blessings in my lap.
At a memorial service for a friend in a park down by the sea
as we remembered her I wondered…how will people remember me?
I imagine most of the people at the memorial…from her friends to her family members
were thinking a similar thought…how do I want to be remembered?
This is a simple question…but its ripples extend quite far…
because how we choose to answer…determines who we are.
The following night our daughter texted us…asking if we’d like to meet
her and a group of her friends…at a pub just down the street.
So off we went to join our daughter and her friends in a great old neighborhood bar
where we drank, we laughed, we sang songs like Piano Man
accompanied by Shamus on his guitar.
And as I sat next to Deborah watching Ali and her friends so loving and carefree
I realized in that pub…how I’d like people to remember me.
When I look back on my life…from child to parenthood
I don’t need to be remembered for being great…
but I’d like to be remembered for being good.
For being a good person…the best good person that I can…
A good husband, teacher, father, grandfather, a good friend…a good man.
I think I would be happy…when I reach my final day…
If everyone who remembers me…remembers me this way.
Yes, I thought of a good way I’d like to be remembered…in the Irish Pub that night
That people will think of me whenever they’re in the mood for a melody…
and remember…how I always left them feeling alright.
PATHOS
Every time I have to do something for you,
an overwhelming sadness envelopes me.
It’s been eight months since you passed,
I still have not shed a tear, there is none.
I did most of the things needed in arranging
your memorial service; but could not do a tribute
for you for I don’t really know you very well.
Two of my siblings out of seven children did.
We decided not do anything after the memorial
services, except lunch with all your children,
most of your grandchildren and some of your
great grandchildren because of the pandemic.
We agreed on getting together to celebrate your
life two days after your birthday in November
and we are inviting our relatives and your friends.
Again, I got the invitations going for the event.
We planned on giving presentations and I have to
read a couple of poems or say something about you.
Reading the poems is easy for I just have to choose
what poems I have to read; talking about you is hard.
All I can think of is the strangeness between us, the
deafening silence when I visited you, the immense
feeling of being an outsider, your total indifference.
If I could not write a tribute then, how can I now?
There are no words I could think of, it is all blankness
for remembering you evokes sadness and heartache.
9/25/21 "P"Contest, New Or Old Poetry
Constance La France
Theme #1
Written by Gail DeBole
In memory of my grandfather
Nice Day For a Funeral
I
(You were always old. I can't remember a
time when you were not.)
Cried
(And you had no past before the first time I
became aware of your presence.)
When
(The weather huddled the mourners together.
It was a cold day, but the sun was out to pay its respects, also.)
They
(I huddled with the rest. Echos of
the service left a sad taste in my soul.)
Lowered
(The Rabbi had spoken of you like an old friend.)
Your
(And convinced me of your close
lifelong brotherhood with him.)
Casket.
Funeral, Eulogy, or Memorial Service Poetry Contest
Sixth Place