Short Eulogies Poems

temples and tombstones

epitaphs and eulogies 

now and forever...

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those men of conscience
of whom where great
we rare give tribute
till them be late...

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amongst the eulogies so fine

this refrain....prompted by the divine


Saturday reflection II enroute to a trip along the Thames...

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Monuments in stone
midst the grieving groans;
eulogies reminders recall
incidents significant and small;
laughter,tears amidst the fears
is this all?
the sum of others memories

or is there more in store?...

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Monuments in stone
midst the grieving groans;
eulogies reminds and recall
incidents significant and small;
laughter,tears amidst the fears
is this all?
the sum of others memories

or is there more in store?...

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George
Carlin
Stand-up guy
Hippie-dippy
FM, AM, banned words, silly putty

Booze, pain-pills, expedited heart failure
untimely loss
bright void left
empty
still

By: Nancy Jones
For entry into Michael Falitico's "Smiles and Frowns" contest...

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No pearls of wisdom awaits

No greetings at pearly gates

No angel's wings or golden things

Nor judgement that seals our fates

No eulogies will be read

No memories of the dead

No blinding light or second sight

Only darkness lies ahead...

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Abandoned
on the road of distant sorrow
mile markers bloody from the vagrants
it has claimed
All names
inscribed with crimson warnings
on devil written
eulogies
Their cries
entombed within an
eastern wind
— that blows away the dawn

(The Devil’s Highway (666): June, 2002)
...

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It stood where it always had;
the top slightly worn and bowed
like the man who had hewn it
from the ancient gnarly Oak
he’d chanced upon in the woods.

It bears on its ancient top
photographs and eulogies
of the man who had hewn it.
Gone now, the cares of the world
he’d carried upon his back....

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We read of so and so
and his sad ending,
then we remember more;
more people in a long story.

Sadness is a gesture,
an acknowledgement
that we knew all along
its time would come again
with a different face.

Most eulogies withdraw
into quiescence,
a sequestering of parables
told to rushing crowds
and the headlong years....

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ST*RBUCKS

Steaming extremes
Flowing vain brains

Coercing candid collaborates

  Outrageous opiate orders

    Foamfaced flavour floating

      Failfaded fortune faking

        Endless empty entities

          Erasing epic eulogies



Steaming extremes
Bursting brain veins


© Kim van Breda—16 November 2015...

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We read of so and so and her sad ending,
wince perhaps, as if time had just run out.
of its burning house.

Sadness is an acknowledgement.
that we knew all along
that the world would swallow
every face we ever looked upon.

Most eulogies
are a murmuration of dying words,
half-truths told to the rushing crowd.
and the headlong years....

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at the mouth
like opening i
shout hello(((

hear the echo
like a parrot
speaking

hell
hel
oh

reminds me of
history i've read
about President

Jackson one
son of a
b*t*h

drank and
shot many
rounds in

the oval office
until a time
when 

the words were
eulogies but
his bird

kept saying
f**k you
and had

to be
removed
from the rest

in
peace
proceedings...

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Death and its mournful tidings
Obituaries and eulogies, read
Black ties and black veils, all in rows
Surround this shell and the open earth
The cold, damp wind sashays through and through
Memories, half a century old are lost and forgotten
A flight of geese overhead, perform a last flyover
Victory in death
Vestiges of family, say farewell and Godspeed
Tomorrow brings colder and damper weather...

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limestone hearted eaten away 
by God's eternal, feral rain 

stalagmite preachers in full royal bloom
igniting fanged candles to temper gloom

memories choked with thorny throated weeds
half-hearted souls, blue marbled eulogies...
  
truly, time chisels flesh into stone
fluted memories are forged from bone

snake congregation bearing footfall refrain
limestone hearted forever.. a mad harlot to the rain...

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A century echoed incantations
Of a language in psalms and eulogies;
Each decade bearing plagues, wars disarranged
While men embraced time’s deep lamentations .
Although hearts roughened by dead rhapsodies,
The victories of warm brotherhood reigned
Cultivating world solace blessed by grace.



Titles From Novels sponsored by Nette Onclaud
June 6, 2016
A Hundred Years of Solitude
Form: 10 syllables each , using abcabcX rhyme...

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Echoes in the laughter
Reverberating strange
Devious enrapture
Entangled souls are drained
All eulogies are intoned 
Telling how they were so brave
To speak of webbed seduction 
That dragged them to their graves
They're left but skin-n-bone now
Skin-n-bone there all remains
And on the winds they're screaming
In hollow cheeked dismay
Beguild souls are damned
To the keep of a lost domain
A temptress or the devil 
Who spins this web again....

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Echoes in the laughter
Reverberating strange,
Devious enrapture 
Entangled souls are drained,
All eulogies are intoned 
Telling how they were so brave,
To speak of webbed seduction
That dragged them to their graves,
They're left but skin 'n' bone now
Skin 'n' bone there all remains,
And on the wind they're screaming 
In hollow cheeked dismay,
Beguiled souls are damned
To the keep of a lost domain,
A temptress or the devil
Who spins this web again....

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Paddle hard in youths whirling foam
waiting for the perfect wave
on the nose of a silken board
sipping a glass of sweet champagne..
It's in the blood to ride fast and smooth
in the sweet-salty sun rise of our youth.

Enter the rogue, striking from beneath
nudging naivety from sun into valleys of cold teeth.
Upon the beach, the broken foam of youth's dream...

When the sun sets who'll be by our quartered side?
To read plastic eulogies when the champagne runs dry....

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sitting
 in the corner
 of a pub
 
I write vows
 and eulogies
 I speak
 of the dead
 visiting
 the departed
 
speaking of love
 waxing of life
 on the breath
 of a baby 

I take minutes
 of hours
 I wrap my hands
 in cheesecloth
 
stained with black
 my fingernails
 have loosened
 from their beds
 
life passes through
 my pen, surging
 and ebbing
 with each tragedy
 or celebration 

I read lips
 hear tones
 watching from afar
 the faces
 
but unable
 to touch
 the life in them...

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My aunt was laid to rest today
With eulogies and rain.
Her children wept and shoveled dirt
In disbelief and pain.

Her life was long and full and rich;
She clearly was adored,
With all of those attending, 
Admiration-wise, on board.

My aunt loved "Que sera, sera"
And someone sang it out. 
We all joined in, accepting what
That song is all about.

A funeral's an ending
But reminds us we should see
That the future proves the chorus - 
What will be will surely be....

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While the sun set 
While at rest, 
the hay is lay, 

Write me beautiful songs  
and poems 
fill my corridors 
with plaudits

While you can, 
knock at my door 
and with me share the 
good news
perhaps, sing them
like lullabies 

While you can 
praise me. praise me. 
for a good work done
before streams of 
eulogies turn into mournful 
dirges

And while there's time 
show me that you care
I will do same,
to you who breath and
water flows 

©Min Smartt & Doris Mawusi...

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A funeral was held today,
Joan Rivers laid to rest,
Attracting many A-list names
With those who knew her best.

The eulogies were filled with jokes,
Evoking grins and smiles.
It's rare at funerals to find
Folks laughing in the aisles.

It's just the type of send-off
She most likely would have planned - 
The audience attentive,
Not a chance of getting panned.

At a service for a comic
Somber sobbing disappears,
For there's bound to be some laughter
Intermingled with the tears....

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