Funeral poems from famous poets and best beautiful poems to feel good. Best funeral poems ever written. Read all poems about funeral.
Where did they get
After the funeral, mule praises, brays,
Windshake of sailshaped ears, muffle-toed tap
Tap happily of one peg in the thick
Grave's foot, blinds down the lids, the teeth in black,
Through airy roads he wings his instant flight
To purer regions of celestial light;
Enlarg'd he sees unnumber'd systems roll,
Beneath him sees the universal whole,
Let us begin and carry up this corpse,
Leave we the common crofts, the vulgar thorpes
Each in its tether
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading--treading--till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through--
I saw a slowly-stepping train --
Lined on the brows, scoop-eyed and bent and hoar --
Following in files across a twilit plain
(In memory of Stephen (Reggie) Pearce
The wind blows cold through the churchyard trees
I am standing at your funeral
Ready to say good bye
I am standing here
A Very Grand Affair: The Duke of Wellington's State Funeral,1852
‘I vow to God I don't know what I'll do
With my awkward son Arthur
He is food for powder… nothing more'
I remember the day of her funeral…I noticed him…right from the start…and his is the memory that stands above all the others…that, to this day, remains etched in my heart.
The first pew in the church sat empty…except for her youngest grandson (his parents said he wanted it that way) …he said when it came time to talk about Grandma…he had something he wanted to say.
Bri's 'Showcase-Intro(duction) ' poem:
Tom had saved a long time.
So that when he died, he would have a nice funeral.
But his wife didn't give a crap.
About giving him a nice funeral.
When I die
To my funeral who would come,
Who would say a goodbye
And who would feel sad and numb.
You were never a nice person
You were as ferocious as a lion
I am not coming to your funeral
You were as greedy as a sick devil
One day in my eighteenth year, a great man died
At school, a teacher'd let us hear his speeches
On a record player, war from a warrior's mouth
But for my parents, Churchill was their hero
I Was At A Funeral One Time
I was at a funeral one time
Where I was wont to speak
The tolling of a funeral bell in the chapel near
A reminder to me what is obviously clear
That someone is being driven on their last journey today
And that her or his lot will be my lot life works in this way
Not only those who have lived can die Those names buried in silence all through life Subscribe to silence in this city you have dismantled An empty street pretends to be a funeral procession Moonlight hard like iron Bones clanking in iron hands What is outside the window is long forgotten little drums beat Each word deleted by you in life returns to delete you Unsparingly deletes savagely deletes World deleted specimens of faces are closer and clearer Eyes deleted eyesight polishes glass edges Carves a paper bird with delicate lines Like the one you saw smashed Crumpled discarded on a rotting manuscript in the corner Your final death is already familiar An old house waiting to shift out dead skeletons
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