Posthumously Poems | Examples

Nikola Tesla 1856-1943

Tesla the inventor
an eccentric Serbian
once worked for a businessman
an entrepreneurial USAnian
when Edison had an idea bright
saw the light
and invented DC electricity
positive and ground
as found in a battery
then Nikola created AC
as used in the home
by the whole family
a contest still
a power struggle
if you will
however
Tesla the car
employs both forms of energy
as does the phonograph
so tho' posthumously
looks like Thomas had the last laugh

From Criminal To War Hero

True story, my uncle was a famous safe cracker
Before becoming a soldier in World War I
Known to police in New York City for robbery
The army wanted his skills against the Huns

Employed him to defuse bombs the Germans threw
In the trenches around the front lines
And also to defuse all the mines around them
Till the end of the war was showing signs

Dying in the war he received a medal of honour
Posthumously for his heroic bravery
And his great contribution to the war effort
Made amends for his past so unsavoury

When I came along I was named after him
Quite a hero I always looked up to
Before the war, a criminal known to police 
After death got the recognition he was due

In an age of cheap poets and marketplace philosophers

In an age of cheap poets and marketplace philosophers,  
When words intertwine beautifully but lack depth,  
My contemporaries have already given me the greatest reward,  
Their indifference, their silence, heavy like a spider’s web.  

In a world where applause is the echo of an illusion,  
Rise those who believe themselves original,  
For they have an audience that claps but does not understand,  
And they do not know that true poets live only posthumously.  

I wish to be a shadow in the book of time,  
To write my words on dead leaves, carried by the wind,  
Melancholy as my ink, and my heart as the paper,  
To tell my stories in a stream of thoughts.  

For what does it mean to be alive, if not to be forgotten?  
To leave only a sad echo and a lost smile,  
In a world of those who have eyes but do not see,  
In a mechanical universe, where souls are mere cogs.  

But perhaps one day, when silence will sing,  
My words will bloom in the light of dusk,  
And they will tell the story of those who were,  
Those who wrote silence, while the world screamed.

A Letter to Emily Dickinson

Dear Emily, 'the Recluse of Amherst'

In my university days, you burned in me 
As a dazzling flame of endless inspiration.
As I sit to write to you, your soul in its depth I see
And it speaks to me, still giving endless motivation.

Your concise and crisp musings, penned years ago,
Continue to light poetic sparks in my soul.
Your poetry is like a whispered secret still aglow
As a recluse, you hid yourself. From the crowd you stole.

Your poems give a glimpse into the workings of your heart
Your thoughts, bold and subtle speaks directly to me.
As I think of you, through my mind, emotions of awe dart.
Staying aloof, you watched nature and animals closely.

In your poems, you elevated the mundane to the sublime.
‘If I could Stop one Heart from Breaking’_
This poem, stays immortal in all time.
Your musings on life and nature are breathtaking.

Dear Emily, you shouldn’t have hidden your light,
Like a lamp under the bushel. Sad, your poems you buried,
Abhorrent of publicity, but posthumously came into limelight.
Now across oceans and tides, they are avidly ferried.

Perfectly Poetic

Perfectly poetic is what I propose to be
Predictable perceptions for all the world to see

Posthumously parodied a name on all your lips
Profanity prolific like sailors on the ships

Premeditated problems fixed with ire and humour
Predilected preferences are true and not a rumour

Prospective prosperity in spirit not in money
Perfection personified for rhymes that can be funny

A Man Of Hull

One of our local heroes:
his record of try’s in a season
has still not been beaten.
Jack Harrison VC, MC

A Temporary Gentleman
Not really the right sort
Just a common school master
Who played professional sport, 
But he was a volunteer 
Not a Conscripted man
Volunteering for service 
Soon after war began.

A Temporary Gentleman
Who came to the good 
Charged a machine gun
And died at Oppy Wood.
Charged a machine gun
Tying  down his men
They never found his body
He was never seen again.

Over there at Oppy Wood
His final try was laid
Revolver in hand 
Carrying live grenade.
No body to be buried,
No remains to be found,
He just became as one with
That blood soaked ground,
.
A person of courage 
A man of gallantry
Posthumously awarded 
His well deserved V.C.
A Temporary Gentleman
But in truth I must confess
Not really the type to join
Any Regular Officers’ Mess.

Woven Worlds

Buoyant orange flames leap like a leopard stalking the sun. Posthumously, the mountain of smoke and ash collapsing on itself, selfishly stomping out joy, but for the Aurora Borealis, the joykill of skullduggery. Her light like song notes, tra-la-la-ing. Her beauty, unscrupulous, to the roaring volcanic beast.

northern lights
emeralds and pinks
disclosing
phantasm peaks
valleys of despair

From A Burglar To A World War One Army Hero

True story, my uncle was a famous safe cracker
Before becoming a soldier in World War One
Known to police in New York City for robbery
The army wanted his skills against the Huns

Employed him to defuse bombs the Germans threw
In the trenches around the front lines
And also to defuse all the mines around them
Till the end of the war was showing signs

Killed in the war he received a medal of honour
Posthumously for his heroic bravery
In spite of his unsavoury and unruly past 
Made amends for his past so unsavoury

When I came along I was named after him
Quite a hero I always looked up to
Before the war, a burglar known to police 
After death got the recognition he was due

My official name is Charles Byard Ellison

Customer Service

It was the work ethic that did it.
He just couldn’t get enough.
He would sit for hours and hours
Just contemplating the stuff
Until suddenly it was home time,
Getting on for half past four,
And he knew that in the morning
They'd have delivered plenty more.

After nearly a week they found him
Slouched dead in his swivel chair;
He'd been hidden by all the work
Piled up in mountains there.
They gave him a long service medal
Posthumously I should think
And following his last wishes scattered
His ashes by his favourite old golf link.

Thus an illustrious career was ended
Without a hint of any shame
For the company couldn't afford
Any slurs to be cast on its name.
And all the work that he'd not started?
They just shovelled into a bin
Knowing if any was important
A client would write again

From Criminal To War Hero

True story, my uncle was a famous safe cracker
Before becoming a soldier in World War I
Known to police in New York City for robbery
The army wanted his skills against the Huns

Employed to defuse bombs the Germans threw
In the trenches around the front lines
And also to defuse all the mines around them
Till the end of the war was showing signs

Died in the war, received a medal of honour
Posthumously for his heroic bravery
A sad end to his heroic efforts during the war 
Making amends for a past unsavoury

When I was born I was named after him
His exploits made him my hero!

Pimp Who Won the Primary Posthumously

.
          No doubt
      God looks after
    Even sin city- Vegas

   From oldest profession;
   Politics’ newest victim;
   Brothel King: Dennis Hof
.
  When comes to profession
   Prostitution is the oldest
   Politics or pimping is next
  (I disagree with Charles III)

    So what is the context ?
    In Vegas...
    A pimp wins the election
    But, it is after his death .
.
     What happens in Vegas..
     Stays in Vegas...as said
.
The celebrity pimp got seduced
     by guess what..Politics
      and got consumed
      But after winning...
     Never a loser - Dennis Hof.. 
He turned out to be a good cock
.
Guess his guardian angels told him
      Hof, Stay here...don’t move
You happened in Vegas. you stay in Vegas
We invested in a pimp.  Politics is a bad bet

My Commanders In Chief

Many think this holiday honors all United States presidents we elect
But let me reflect
It is Washington’s birthday that we celebrate 
It honors President Washington and President Lincoln as of late 
Let’s see how they relate 

Washington was a good ol’ lad
He was the best that America had 
Unanimously elected to commander in chief 
He gave colonists some hope and belief
Posthumously, promoted to a six-star general 
That will forever remain unattainable 
Presided over the Constitution writing
That must have been rather exciting 
Unanimously elected as our first president for two terms 
To which he affirms 
Relinquishing his power
Setting a precedent for every successor 

Lincoln was a prominent figure
During the Civil War 
Another commander in chief 
With a strong belief 
His Emancipation Proclamation 
To end slavery in our nation 
He met his untimely demise 
By a Confederate that did not sympathize 

Both of these men deserve a day
For creating the country we know today 
Though it is not perfect in any way 
America is where I want to stay!

Pc Police Strike Again

Roy Rogers and Dale Evans
  Together they sang 'Happy Trails'

    Posthumously sentenced to P.C. Jail
    ~ Their song not available in braille

Animation

Animation I grew up with,
Bride of fantasy stories.
Comedy with action I watch,
Death of worries I snatch.
Earth of penitence is
Fist of imagination I sense.
Girdle of suffocation, I sike
Hinterland of minds, I hike.
Insatiable finds take off
Juggernaut of marvels thereof.
Kommandatura with style,
Love of sequels I file.
Mysteries of lifestyle are not farfetched,
Nincompoops play unwretched.
Over and under a replay of streams --
Posthumously acclaimed.
Quondam penners survived,
Reminiscences of sets --
Sets of scenes and takes,
Travesty of the reclaimed.
Up, up and away
Victory not far away.
Wonders of life in a bucket
Xanadu of strife in a socket.
Yabadabadoo!
Zen of life.

Vincent Willem Van Gogh

Dutch post-impressionist Vincent Willem Van Gogh
Misunderstood genius as we all know
Did not go gently into his starry, silent night
Posthumously famous in his own right







07/07/2022

Image courtesy of National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC, via canva.com

Line 3 influenced by "Do not go gentle into that good night", a poem in the form of a villanelle by Welsh poet Dylan Thomas.

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