Poems classified as: Elegy

Sing out the pain of your heart woven in a soul-stirring Elegy. An elegy is a mournful, melancholic or plaintive poem, usually associated with a funeral song or a lament for the dead. Popular Elegies have often expressed three stages of loss. First is a lament, portraying grief and sorrow, then praise and admiration of the idealized dead, and finally consolation and solace. Soak your heart in memories as you float from one Elegy to the other.

No Roof For Reindeer

No Roof For Reindeer elegy

Page 1. the celebrated sailing frog from Montgomery County went a court’n, or so the tale iz toad to a grand ole mansion built around 1910, and e’en ‘pon being razed ~2012 ah no dummy sea worthiness still plainly showed,

The Mask

The Mask elegy

Strangers on the street stare at you in awe thinking to themselves that girl’s got everything; even the people closest to you are blind, blind to the storm brewing in your mind. Your best friend says your pretty without makeup.

His Emma Nance

His Emma Nance elegy

loving male, natural of pleasure, quintessentially rendered suitable to us via way ova our darling daughter. tis the blessing of this average, contemplative damn ejected flotsam globular human impish jokester kooky lamb misunderstood nonestablishmentarian outlier praises quality ram rod sterling

Place The Stone

Place The Stone elegy

Heart dont let me down.Stay strong for just one more round. Eyes please dont let me see you cry .Oh spirt its time to grow wings and fly. Sun for me wont you please shine,let a cool wind blow from

The Funeral

The Funeral elegy

I know how it goes… You show up, you tear up and you grow up. You shake hands, accept hugs and grieve. You say goodbye to your beloved… I know how it goes… You lose a piece of yourself and

One Poem From Mud Poetry

One Poem From Mud Poetry elegy

Strangers from incident, lies for distance, pitfalls of living infrequent, Rushes of sympathy pass over like fever sweat. In concurrent motion the wolves swarm on the lifeless carcass. Impending emotions fill the hole in my stomach, my chest continues to

Stars Shine

Stars Shine elegy

walking through dark lanes , the night was soundless and reserve . wind roared with a whistle and rattled the barren leaves, thinking and analyzing the problem , glanced the stars which shine. they shine and shine , flicker but

At Least Eighty Dead.

At Least Eighty Dead. elegy

“At least eighty dead,” is all you’ve said…. As that charred colossus, Grenfell, towers overhead. The hopes and fears of those you loved, Dead. Those missing, without mention, who died, without dying, who cried, without crying. The faceless, euphemised headlines

The Drunkard

The Drunkard elegy

I hope it’s not him, The one who keeps drinking gin. As the bell rang, I said, “who’s there?” He barked, “Open the door! I’m here.” My hands started shaking, And my head started aching. But still I managed to

Alcohol

Alcohol elegy

She was screaming. I don’t know who that she is. But that she was screaming ’cause, the bleeding won’t stop. The blood was pouring out in the form of clots, and the alcohol and pills were doing a great job.

Elegy

Elegy elegy

The red-gold heaven of stormy autumn leafy-misty lights this late October dawn recalling to me, curiously, the design hidden in words, swirls of the wood-smoke of ages time-ridden, missing things: a fleeting meeting with the past: something else that does

A Soldier’s Message

A Soldiers Message elegy

Don’t cry for me… I’ve met my destiny And found solace in the soil that covers me. Look beyond my grave Gather the stones, guns, bullets and grenades Build them into wheels For windmills, bicycles and trains. Look into children’s

To M

To M elegy

Murmurs of laughs filling the gaps- of time and reality are his trademark. How can I not wonder about what’s next? Affability is something he easily conveys- but don’t let that let you get carried away! He can fence and

Paul Dice

Paul Dice elegy

A 21st century apostle strove to ease our appalling quandary ameliorating the sensation sans being caught between the devil and the dark blue sea, This tethered to the oblate spheroid earthling doth strive toward savoir-faire re: As the fickle finger

Boyce Brandon Harris ™

Boyce Brandon Harris ™ elegy

April 9th 1929, my father gasped his first breath of air Head populated with black curly locks No pediatrician at his home birth, when he uttered that initial blare Nor preschool instructors extant to teach him building blocks Inherent in