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.


My Country

My country is under a siege
That's why I write a dirge
My country is falling apart 
'cause her leaders have taken the wrong path

The land is full of greed 
Remember, That's not what we agreed 
Masses continually wallow in pain 
Yet our cries is often in vain 
Nigeria is another old today
Then it's falling away 

The youths they refused to give the way 
The old have refused to call it a day 
While they have ship in the deep 
And , masses continually killed like sheep
Corruption, nepotism, there watch words
Neglected, the constitution as their watch dog 
Which has been known to the world 

Nigeria, The sleeping Giant
With Great lands of hope
Lush vegetation by nature provided
Where diverse icons of Erudite are awarded
In the past we uttered corrupt masters
In the present we call , kleptomaniac in their fingers 

Nigerians, independence we cried out for 
Unity In diverse they preach
In the inns we hope to reach
As they've democratically persuaded to teach
We had the freedom to be free 
But has been more strong weaker

Nigeria my country is about to fall 
That's why I am making a call.
Form: Rhyme


This can't be your will

Dad, is this the will I once craved?
All your jewels you have sold,
On penury your will engraved,
A fortune no hands can hold.

Your will holds lies that I see through,
Nothing of worth it defines,
And your conscience never pricks you,
To waste heap your will consigns.

I wept you left me not a house,
Yet you built many, I know;
Not that I grumble or carouse,
But my spirit you laid low.

I thought I'd get more from your will,
For you died wealthy, you did,
Your writ reveals a barren till,
And leaves me all I forbid.

I am your only child alive,
Your legacy lies in vain,
The grave where your true wealth should thrive
Holds silence, loss, and disdain.

Perchance, this is but your feigned death,
Then spare me this cold meanness;
Grief I'll wrest from my labored breath,
Till truth is told with keenness.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Grace

Miss your barks, miss your presence
Miss your enthusiastic greetings, miss your adorable face
Miss the innocence of your brown eyes, miss your liveliness
Miss the vibes that you spread, of your infectious cheerfulness

Miss the walks we took together and the hikes we did to hills and lakes
Miss your tenacity and stamina and your amazing athletic strength
Miss your adept swimming for a stick you wanted to fetch
Miss your feisty eagerness when you ran and played your favorite ball-chase 

Miss those conversations we had of unspoken language 
Miss feeling your calming aura around while doing yoga on the carpet 
Miss your alert growling at the sound of the doorbell
Miss your sweet friendliness to connect with all the arriving guests

Though we no longer see you coming to our calls,
Or see you retrieving no more of your favorite sticks and balls
You live in our thoughts, you live in our hearts
I ponder and pause, feel you near, not far  

Your incredible patience, your enormous faith, 
Your immense confidence and your selflessness 
Reva, you were an ideal example of God’s grace…
Having you in our lives, we truly feel blessed!!
Form: Rhyme

Platypus

2025.12.24

About 18 months ago, 
A black hoodie was acquired.
With a grey platypus printed on it.
And a heatfelt poem was written,
To commemorate our friendship.

2024.6.22
It was fine you still have not found me.
It was not like I play hard to catch.
I just don't know who I can trust.
Having my image on your hoodie,
Was the closest thing you can get.
You are one of those who found me cute
For that I am sure I can't dispute
You aware that my species is facing extinguished.
If for any reasons. I can't be your friend,
You know I still love you 
But did not know how to let you know.
If you love me then you have
A very strange way to show.
Now, I feel deserted and ignored.
I am being buried long before my species.
PS
When are you going to learn how to swim
So you can join and find me in the stream. 

Both the hoodie and the poem,
Were left behind after being rejected.

One year later, after months of waiting.
I decided to give the hoodie away,
It is now overseas and admire  by someone.

I embroidered the platypus on a hankie.
I also embroidered your image,
The icon of your firmware Apps
And the poem which I compared 
You and the 12 Apostles,
On my back from Great Ocean Road.

One day, after I am gone,
When I can see and miss them no more.
Please give them all away
As you did to our friendship.
© C33 B66  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member We Shan'T Forget You - Battle of Britain's Longest Day August 15

They were young starry-eyed, yet too soon so many had to die.
Brave to a fault with wanderlust of youth, no challenge spurned however seemingly uncouth.
In azure blue skies with only clouds as friends, they sought their prey through war's myopic lens.
No quarter given and none spared by their foes, incandescent bullets superseding schoolyard blows.
Skill and verve no match for destiny's roulette, to survive another day an all too losing bet.
Still they flew and fought with all their might, for love of country protecting it from blight.
Summoned by that bell with its strident chilling tones, pervading every pore of their worn and tired bones.
Verve and duty each relying on the other, no place to hide but raw courage as their cover.
For all those boys that fast turned into men, saving our isles from sweeping plain to gleaming glen,
We shall remember you forever in our lore, the few that gave so much and often so much more.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member I took the one

So we stood at the spot where 
Two roads diverged on a summer day,

Kathy and I, Wendy.

Which way shall we go, Joe?
She asked.
Shall we go the same way,
Or 
You take that one,
On the left and
I'll take the other?

What do you think joe?

So, Wendy,
She took the right 
Path.
Different paths,
Different lives,
Different...

Everything.
She 
Had her children, two,
And her career took her to the top.

And I 
A mere sub the day she
Retires as principal.

I took the road less travelled by,
On the left..

Led me to you Wendy.
And us.
And our children.

Never had our troubles to seek,
Wendy,
Did we?

Had I followed her,
What would have become of 
Me?

Would I 
Be here now?
Would I be grieving so?

I'm so so glad I
Took that one,
The one less travelled by and that 

It led me to you.

Cos you, my love,
Are 
The best thing that 
Ever happened to 
Me

Maestro

Ella Fitzgerald (1917 – 1996)

In the midst of stale fog – Is it day or night?
The dimmed dishevelled lights don’t give a bass clef 
Whilst notes made syncopated love at the bar
A tsunami of discord,
blew out the flame of a good old fashioned
And lipstick-stained stubbed ends forgot bruised anguish
A minor digress

Untainted melodies,
swung from a silhouette commissioned from a Nova 
Calling humanity to bath in the melody of birdsong
Quenching dried remnants of bourbon with a perfect pitch
Of rare cut diamond chords and rip

Each instrument paused before the bar
As the voice tootled a trumpet sound
The lady knew how to blow that horn
Yet, no brass brushed against her lips

Then, silence waited in awe for the coveted scat
From the sui generis range of a regal gemstone
Where the constellations hold the original cut
With lulled echoes flowing to hit ‘rewind’
© W J Clarke  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member San Francisco’s Soulmates

                                        
                San Francisco Soulmates


You discovered the ever-seeking soul in me!
Looking for truth, for all of mankind to see!
Unaccepting of all common, unquestioned beliefs.
Ignorant, educated dullards brought to me,absolutely no relief.


Late, late into the foggy evening’s very last twinkling, summer star, 
Plato and Aristotle, greedily we devoured, while riding on a cable car, 
And, although you now are insensate and in an impenetrable grave,
See my soul, my sweet, for truth, it rants and in my poetry, madly raves.
      

                         Tribute to my Late Husband
                         With Deepest Gratitude

                       Inspiration:” When You Are Old”
                             Great Author: W.B. YEATS
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Healing Balm; An Anodyne

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.
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Titanic - Fare Thee Well Poetry Contest

I recall many brights stars
but no moon
for lack of guiding light
we will sink soon

I see ladies 
with much fancier clothes
lowered with room to spare 
in lifeboat rows

If only they were to let me 
catch a boat
I would not sink
or lay frozen afloat 

I don't mind, as much
being pierced with cold
But to think... I'll never 
--ever-- grow old :(

I stay aboard 
with the shivering crowd
now comforting ourselves
we pray aloud

Fr. Thomas Byles* 
--he prayed with me!
before my last farewell 
into the sea...

For salvation
we're quietly dreaming
while others 
are miserably screaming

My life slips away... 
there is no more time
to record my life story 
in this rhyme

I can only trust-- 
He's the Guiding Light
I hope our prayers 
lead us to His sight


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*For background info on who Fr. Thomas Byles was see my other poem: poetrysoup.com/poem/father_thomas_byles_martyr_of_the_titanic_1422381
Form: Quatrain

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