Long Memoriam Poems
Long Memoriam Poems. Below are the most popular long Memoriam by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Memoriam poems by poem length and keyword.
(Note: taken from a diary of a young lady)
In memoriam of Jose` Maria
aged twenty, drowned.
I lounge on an uneven stone
under the uneasy shade
of an ancient carob tree,
away from the hot rays
of the summer sun.
I sit alone, abandoned,
I contemplate in vain,
for my thoughts wander on you,
who left me in the lurch.
I stare vacantly towards
the mighty sea that
like a cyclone of frigidness
buffets the darkened rocks
that form the inlet.
Wave after wave
enters the narrow strait
and rumble onwards
to the horrendous shore
throwing iridescent sprays
over the plaque of cold hard marble
that hides a tragedy of life.
Under the Iberian sky
prickly pears ripen
a stone's throw away
from the glinting shore
amid the green olive trees
slightly wet with sea spray.
The plaque seems to glow
in the hot summer rays.
I wonder what made Jose` Maria
swim in that turbulent sea.
Maybe he searched for treasure lost,
or hunted for the slippery octopus,
or mourned over lost love.
A life destroyed.
Am I not astray too?
I am so far away from you,
forsaken and unloved,
for you are like the sea, drowned
in a cyclone of frigidness.
Be Not Afraid
When God Says so
everything is permitted
The genocide on screens
was sanctioned from heaven
800 acres 800 graves
In the name of God
Their Journey was hastened
The heavens were opened
"I saw visions of God."
Ezekiel was preaching
Be not Afraid
The Government has faith
The chief was ordained
His cup was brimming
A man Of God
His blessings revealing
Death permits signed
The Heaven Resort was booming
The word of the Lord came to Ezekiel
There the hand of the Lord was dirty
The Gospel of McKenzie
Be not Afraid
The Politicians are cracking
The politics politicking
The God Of Israel fighting for Kenya
The God of Kenyans sacrificed for favour
The house of God is a Morgue
DP said it is something small
800 Dead, It's no big deal
The dead are home
Each one went straight ahead
Wherever The spirit Goes They Go
McKenzie was Mediating
Be not Afraid
Shakahola will repeat
When the systems are broken
The saviours are needed
When St Peter is corrupted
The devils do sneak In
When your God is Imported
Prosperity is Gospel
Forget even Christ Lost faith
When the creatures moved
To the appearance of the likeness
But is easier to forget
Than pay the price of reality
A sea of marble markers
In perfect rows and place
Adorn the sprawling green
Above each cherished face.
Beneath the graven tombstones
Are soldiers low and dear.
Void of breath, still, at peace
Full of honor, lost in tears.
No one will forget these lives
Though silent, markers speak.
White monuments still stand
Like glorious mountain peaks.
Trumpets blare their tributes clear
Through somber, sobbing faces.
Salutes surround the site
Where loved ones kneel in places.
Their dear loss is not in vain
They bore great pain for us.
High is the soldier's worth
Come lift a grateful chorus.
I want you all to rejoice, this is not my end.
I'm starting to transition, to see family and friends.
All my sorrows and my pain will soon be left behind.
Any suffering is done here, I will soon be fine.
Soon I will begin to see people gone before me.
My Lord has blown the trumpet, that will set me free.
Something beautiful has begun, I wish that I could say.
It's not something bad or scary, you all will see someday.
Remember now trust in God, knowing that he is love.
He beckons me in this suffering state from His throne above.
Feeling sorry for me right now, is the wrong thing to do.
I'm headed for the heavenly realm where others wait for you.
It's my will. I want let go, I am making this choice.
Goodbye for now. I'll see you later. I'm hearing Jesus voice.
Put smiles on those sad faces. This is not my end.
When I pass thru heaven's gate, my life will really begin!
("A Migration of Ghosts", 2023, original encaustic)
In the morning I lay in the bath
Slowly waking with a cup
My mind drifts half asleep.
Eventually I start to count
All the people I have met and known
Close and distant
Who are gone.
At first it’s an easy couple of handfuls
But then the longer I soak
The more the numbers add up.
Eventually several dozen names and faces
Have marched across my memory
Each one smiling for an instant
Caught in a moment of what I knew them for.
A parade of sorts, young and old
Which once opened to won’t seem to stop.
It’s not like I’m merely an observer either
Safe in the warmth of my bath,
Like them I’m moving inexorably from here
To there
A parade of sorts, each with our own allotted light
Candles big and small, dull or bright
But in the end nothing but a memory
In memoriam we erect in honor
Without a site.
(5/15/26)
Ole’ to the bland bated solid baby blue-hued sky viewed
Left handed white arrows stacked pyramid left side two points up north? looks cool,
Forever almonds eyes slanted aligned with cheek triangular faced,
Vivid stares in graced sitting tail staged right tipped black on end looks cool man
Sitting in on rippled lined white background represents layers of snow
Almonds stare eyes of slanted almond wearing coat of candy apple red
Solid beauty is the image blue skies, white evergreen tree, looks cool
Candy apple red forever fox a stamp of my hearts eyes sees so cool man
07/14/25
For Usps Stamps Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Ekphrasis poetry form only.
Give me a false hope..
By saying it is still a dream..
In any language
Even you are allowed to scream
The smile which was not fake..
Even after making a mistake..
That widespread smile
The loads of joy..
Are now only left as rememberance
When despair was not allowed in entrance
I want you to say that
all what I'm facing now
Is a dream..
Shout, gasp or scream
But let me be in a dream
Let me be in a delusion..
Maybe full of confusion
But atleast it's better
Like former from latter
'A long lost good time'... I can't forget
When there was no regret..
Neither complains nor mistakes..
Were a part of my life
'Those days' which I'm missing now..
Praying for the 'present one' to be a dream
And when I wake up..
It would be again 'that time' which was lost somewhere
And 'those teachings of my elders'
'Those days' where I wished to let that time pass
In order to get older
and leave the category of being in a small class
And now when finally left..
Feels like I'm not anymore blessed!
In the hurricane of term called 'age'
Maybe I left my home which I felt like a cage..
Has left me at the stage..
Where I'm begging to be in a delusion
Want every moment which does not feels like part of 'those days'
to be a dream!!
Shout, gasp or scream..
But let me be in a dream!
A rebuttal to Lord Tennyson's famous lines of 'In Memoriam' ~
"It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."
Please tell me there's a healing anodyne,
some kind of mythical enlightenment,
a cure capable of extinguishing the flames
of grief burning deep within my heart.
It's a fire I cannot douse or smother.
If there is a balm, something known to man,
I beseech you, bathe me in its pacifying waters
before my heartache drives me insane.
Cleanse the malignancy lost love has wrought.
In the song of a lark, I found a brief respite.
His voice soothed the beast blazing in my breast
but then off he flew before I slept.
My ache found but a moment's relief
then returned to plague me, smoldering again.
I linger in sorrow, without means of escape
from a life of recurring fear and doubt.
Is there no utopian Shangri La or illusive Camelot
where memories of us will not haunt me?
If not, I must endure this anguish to my grave.
In desperation, I planted a garden of herbs
and nibbled leaves of chamomile and yarrow,
but no analgesic did they prove to be.
I should've sown hemlock to end my misery.
What anodyne will succor the look of disdain
I see, when in a mirror I sorrowfully visualize
the love his eyes once held for me.
If the antidote blinds me, I beg to be dosed.
I would sacrifice sight to set my heart free.
Previously posted by Jenna Logan, aka Lin Lane 2020.
A Spirit’s Lament
This depth of thought into emotion’s seat -
finds there my spirit grieved, for I am dear.
This soul, seduced by flesh and its deceit,
Now hell-bent to doom, to perish, I fear.
"What can I do?" the meek spirit whispers low,
"Your hardened heart has turned my voice away.
The world, its lusts and pride, must you bestow?
And sink your soul in mire, further astray."
Yet from the Throne, the Living Word arose,
In flesh to bleed and lead you to the light.
God’s Spirit bends your own from death’s repose,
To free your soul and guide your steps aright.
Blood in light dispels hurts, quells random fears,
Spirit frees my spirit, to joy from tears.
Hannah bashed her dolls’s faces on concrete, ripping off Barbie dolls’ heads and cutting their hair so they looked ugly
She also killed little lizards on their yard. But nobody ever saw her doing those things and she always looked very calm and relaxed
Destructive emotions running in her head she was furious, very angry and mad
But having a perfect pretty face and blonde hair nobody could’ve ever imagined that she could do something so bad
Hanna had become very good at wearing her poker face to hide what was going on inside her head, turmoil and terror
She had practiced to smile for a long time in front of the mirror
Hanna had felt real rage starting to boil inside her when her abuser had found a girlfriend
How dare he replace her like that