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Beautiful Funeral Poems | Beautiful Poems About Funeral

These Beautiful Funeral poems are examples of Beautiful poems about Funeral. These are the best examples of Beautiful Funeral poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Verse | |

Ding Dong The Wicked Witch is Dead

Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Thatcher’s dead.

Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Thatcher’s dead.

Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Thatcher’s dead.

Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Thatcher’s dead.


Details | I do not know? | |

Fire

Fire
Instance of combustion
Fuel
Ignited
Oxygen
Light, Heat, Flame
A burning mass
As on a hearth
Destructive conflagration
Heat
Greek fire



©Demand4poetry
21 February 2013


Details | Personification | |

Beautiful ones are dying

Beautiful ones are dying/
Directors on silent the film is sponsored by reality/
Voiceovers turn into scandals not propensity /
Actors with no clue they get glued in life's show their future is screwed/
Born raged their actions are so real/
Kill or be killed quest between scenes/
Poverty is more than the defining moment screams/
Hunger bleeding dreams with no makeup pencils/

A wakeup call before the final cut/
A turning point of a lifetime plot/
It’s a warm-up elevating hopes before credits/
Death too expensive/
No rehearsals nor sequels/ 
Dark clouded cameras carry life insurances/
Raining scenes on corruption’s free way and streets/
The cancer eating stunning extras/
Avalon cemetery the only Stadium Lavatory flushing off written off characters/
Beautiful ones are dying/


Details | Rhyme | |

Speech of Tears

Speech of Tears – Zamreen Zarook

Drops of tears from our purl conveys a lot,
Each an every shedding has a ballot,
By identifying the core, our hands should allot,
Because, some might be extremely as shallot.

Chipper and blissfulness gives you cool tears,
Whereas in console and divesting flow hot tears,
Fear and pains give drains of tears,
Nothing that can be patch with dollars.

Some deliveries are automatic,
While some productions are acoustic,
Another drain says I am really bombastic,
Tears are at last solely cubistic.

They convey the emotions,
People go in search for solutions,
They become happy when they are with the precautions,
Reactions again as the tears, it’s the real abbreviation.


Details | Couplet | |

Goodbye Granddad

Gravity pulls my tears into pools.
Im sinking in sorrow -emotional fuels. 

Just turn back the time, I just want a moment. 
To say goodbye once, to cherish and own it. 

I loved my granddad - a man more than great.
Paired with my Granny as the perfect mate. 

A montage of memories that rush my soul.
My eyes fill with tears, I'm losing control. 

Just keep it together, it's what he would want. 
They all say the same, but I stand in front. 

Happiness swells, yet sadness prevails.
Like Christ on the cross, with hands full of nails. 

Life has a reason, and death isn't treason.
-It's moving on up.. A lifetime's a season. 

I look to the sky and say my goodbye.
The time won't turn back, I gave it a try. 

I close my eyes and imagine this-
Paradise in a place full of bliss. 

World peace in a piece of the world.
Without loss and bombs never hurled. 

Snow that falls that doesn't freeze.
Sun that shines that doesn't cease. 

A land where "The forever" is real.
A scene where the sick always heal.

Life with infinite love, like gusts in the wind.
Two little doves, with eternities to spend. 

God has a plan, fool-proof to the core. 
Now Granddad's with him, a reward of much more. 

-Yours Truly


Details | Romanticism | |

A Flower's Funeral

A sweet flower's funeral
displayed in the cold months
of snowy weather and bone chilling shivers.
A sweet flower burned away, dried up;
buried six feet under.

Oh, my sweet flower,
how you once bloomed with no remorse,
like a madman blooming with beauty
and a glorious halo over your head
shinned with such power and blinding glory.

Oh my sweet flower how you have gone now,
resting in peace in the land of paradise.
Oh, my heart it is weak when I see your face,
of once beautiful smiles and warm embraces.
I can hear your crying out to be free.

Snowing and bone chilling cold ripes at my soul
and feelings of sorrow rage through my blood,
boiling my hatred to the world, for losing your
sweet and ever glorious beauty.

What I would give away, if I could be with you
one last night, one last night together
to hold you in my arms, to smell your sweet perfume
that brings back sweet memories of you and I.
What I would do to be with you,
such romance travels through my heart in the highways
of my veins in my body, love is all throughout me,
and my heart breaks when pictures of you start to collect dust.

My love for you, my sweet flower,
is still ingering through the air,
as I travel and look upon a tombstone
which shows your beautiful name.

Come to me my dear flower,
when spring comes,
come to me my dear, sweet flower.
And bloom once again,
twice as large as last year,
and ten times more beautiful then last year.
Come to me in the first months of spring
in my dreams, so I could sit and talk with you.
I miss you already,
and my heart crys,
my eyes flood with tears of sorrow.
I miss our love we shared.
Long walks,
cosy talks,
warm cuddling embraces
and beautiful displayed in a picture frame.
Now I hear the tapping of raindrops on my window pane.
That is all that keeps me company,
that and the rose you gave to me
and a picture of you and me.
Love is endless, even when blue eyed Death comes to visit
and play a game of chess with us,
we all play our game, my love.
I shall go tonight
in my sleepy slumber
and dream of you in the times of our height in our love for each other.
My lost love, you are gone, resting in paradise,
but never forgotten my sweet flower.

-10/6/2013-


Details | Narrative | |

In memory of Bob

In memory of Bob
A true story.

It was in spring of two thousand when I first saw Bob. I’d just started working at Perth Dental hospital, and in fact it was my first day there. I walked up to the front door of this building, but it wasn’t yet opened. So I turned around and went to sit in the bus shelter which was just outside the building. As I went to sit down I noted a dark skinned gentleman sitting there with a happy, benign look on his face. He was about five feet eight give or take a little, and he was rather a thickset man who looked like he’d done his fair share of hard work in his sixty years or more.

     There was something about this Gentleman that I could not quite put my finger on. He had a certain charisma about him; not the phony kind of charisma that one seen in the car salesman or the philanderer who messes with women’s heads, no, Bob had a kind of friendly smile for everyone that he met, and he seemed to draw people into him with his love, and gigantic heart. I knew as soon as I met him that Bob was most definitely for me.

      As Bob looked at me and smiled, the whole world seemed to open up. He said “Ow ya  going mate” in a loud ebullient manner, then we started to chat. Bob was like myself, a thinker, and straight away we started philosophizing about this, that, and the other, and it was like we had known each other forever. Then all of a sudden I found Bob talking about death, and the difference in the way the Maori people faced death, compared to the rather the silly way us white folk look at the subject with great fear in our hearts. Now this had always interested me, and  somehow it just seemed natural to talk to this Maori gentlemen on this subject, and we spoke about it till the doors opened and it was time to work.

      I don’t think anything happens just by chance, and I definitely have this feeling that Bob and I were meant to meet, and I really think this was a major destiny thing. I have found during the course of my life,  that as I am aging, I can feel something pushing me into a certain direction, and I always felt that Bob was part of all this; and I had much to learn from him. Although I have never believed in organized religion, and never followed one I have always felt deeply spiritual, and I have met many people who I learned from, and Bob was most definitely one of them with all his great wisdom and patience. As I came to know Bob, we had many dialogues together, on many subjects. Bob used to love music and could always have time to plonk away on his guitar. He used to come round to my place and we would play songs together, though both he and I were no Eric Clapton’s, I would bang around on my guitar and play the harp, while we would both take out turns at singing. We’d have a smoke or a beer or two, and we’d play songs all day long,  ahhh, I remember those days well, the memories are so strong.

     Bob was one hell of a man, I could tell that he had been a wild one in his youth,
But when I knew him in his sixties he was an icon of wisdom and virtue; he had a kind word for everyone, and gave all his time to anybody who needed him, always.
He used to hear me waffling on like an idiot, trying to make him like me [as I always did] but never once did he tell me how foolish I was, he would just smile knowingly at me. He used to stand there at the window for hours, just drinking in the trees, or the clouds in the sky, and yet he was so aware, I used to try to sneak up on him; it couldn’t be done. His awareness was incredible.

     Then one day Bob fell ill with terminal cancer, and he knew that he had very little time left on this Earth. He lay there sick for days in intolerable pain,  but you never heard one complaint from him, even when he only had days to live, he was still worrying about the welfare of others. When the day finally come for Bob to leave his shell; he was lying there in deep sleep, when all of a sudden he woke up, with a smile on his face. His children asked him ‘Dad, do you want some pain killers” Bob laughed, compassion written all over his face, and he said to them ‘Not one of you has a clue, have you’ and he died with a big smile on his face.

   His daughter got in touch with me, and told me about his death, and also told me that his last wish was to have me watch his soul leave his body. I felt very honored about this and went and sat with his body [as Maoris do]. I got the most peaceful feeling come to me [which I presume was his spirit leaving his body] as I watched his silent body, a Mari war stick and a beautiful rose lay across his chest. I still see it, and I feel blessed by it. He was my Maori warrior, and I adored the man.
 


Details | Rhyme | |

Death by Beauty

A smile moves across her lips
She gazes at her crime
A scar across her flesh and soul
To haunt her for all time
She’ll waste away for all she cares
Never stops to use her brain
Doesn’t care about the ones who are close
All she cares about is pain

She wants to be what the others expect of her
Doesn’t care about the self-respect for her
A rose can’t be a forget-me-not
Can’t she see what all she has got
Already?

Never to go back again
She feels the world is at an end
She will never show her grief
Although she’ll cry in empty streetS

She’d sooner live like a desolate mole
Living in fear in an empty hole
Screaming silent wails alone
Content to live in her mental home

A final tear falls from her eye
It hits the ground, it’s followed by
A beautiful body, mutated by hate
A kind word could have stopped it, but it is too late
One two many bricks in the wall in her mind
Molding her demise because her heart was blind
This self conscious being could never have won
For she was destroyed by the beautiful ones

She wouldn’t fight back, wouldn’t respect herself
In the end, she managed only to wreck herself
A rose can’t be a forget-me-not
Little did she know, she had all she had sought
Already


Details | Free verse | |

Never So Gracious

A full moon night to my delight what is so wrong with doing what's right nothing is right after so long no use in complaining time to move on The Dream Water one day might take me away farther from the comfort of familiarity I float on my back then shut my eyes my body now sinking into ocean arms open wide Now swallow your son back to his nature when he is no longer needed to stay here the next generation are dooming themselves they need my experience to guide them through hell Why should I bother on my own, I strive through I turn my back on the thought of bothering to save you alone in this world my, is it spacious I'm finally smiling, never so gracious.


Details | Haiku | |

What People Were and What People Are

People were
Many things.
Strange or not

People were
Different and
Odd and fun.

People were
Monsters but…
That’s not all

People were
And still are
Strange and odd.

People are
People. For
life is life. 

Yet not.
Not is lies.
Truth seeps from

Every mouth
Lies, lies, lies
Move, move, move

But somehow
Lies prevail.
Lies are life.

Lies are death.
Lies are homes.
Lies are pain.

Lies are truth.
Yet somehow.
Truth prevails.

Truth is life.
Truth is death.
Truth is home.

Truth is pain.
Truth is lie.
Truth is that.

Lies will die.
Lies will cease.
Nevermore.

Truth will live.
Truth will be.
Forever.


Details | Rhyme | |

Beyond the Frontier

Where am I? Why is it dark?
This isn’t what I had in mind when I left the park…
Why isn’t the wind whispering…the songbirds singing?
All I remember is a telephone ringing…
A scream and a crash and a pain in my side…
Is this what happens after one’s died?
I don’t feel like myself, I feel wild and free,
Yet I’m cold and alone, 'stead of filled with glee.

My whole life I’ve studied, and pondered, and prayed,
Trying to fathom what would happen this day
But now that it’s here, I’m beginning to fear
Maybe the afterlife’s not what it appears…
It’s certainly not what I’ve been told by my preacher
Or my parents or brother or best friend or teacher…
Is it a bad thing, or is it good?
Maybe it’s just not quite understood...

While I was on Earth, I just couldn’t wait
To meet good St. Peter at the heavenly gate
And ask him a question or query or two
“What was my purpose?” “What good did I do?”
“What’s it all for?” “How does it all flow?”
“Can I have one more body, one more try, one more go?”
But where is the angel? Where is the gate? And
If this is Hell, then where is Ol’ Satan?
Am I a lost soul? Am I forgotten?
Am I to be left here until I am rotten?

Lo and behold! what, now, can this be?
Is this a wonderful spiritual epiphany?
Is this the magical feeling all souls receive
When they leave Earth? Oh! was I that naïve?
How could I have not seen the realism?
Why was I consumed in man-made idealism?
This is more wondrous than all I was taught
Oh, all the times I argued and fought
With others, ‘bout how their views were asinine
Now I see, theirs were just as wrong as mine!
Little I thought was actually correct!
How, why, did I let others petty beliefs infect
My untouched, my pure, my virgin mind?
I regret all the hours I self-tortured to find
That compared to what I see now, I was empty and blind…

Wait - - What is this that I see?
What is this gateway that is revealed unto me?

Now a door is opened to my immortal soul
I am expected now to enter my life’s final goal…
I am scared, intimidated, but still I am glad…
For the truth I have just seen is anything but bad.
This is the end of my journey, I’ve nothing to fear,
For now I am going Beyond the Frontier.


Details | Free verse | |

My Time Has Come

My Time Has Come

My time is over here in this body
I am being called home as my work is done here
I hear my Lords voice calling me home
Although I know I will miss this old world 
With all that I have seen and done
All the People I have met and talked to
My body can go on no more for it has reached it’s time

Rev. Samuel Mack, OMS
Copyright 2013

http:paladinnews1.blogspot.com


Details | ABC | |

In your memory

Thank you for the beautiful memory
you left on my mind
you are not dead
 but you are not here,

to me you are gone,
cos i cant feel you the way i used to,
everything you used to do are left untouched
the space you ocupied is empty,

our yesterday is fading away like the rainbow
so beautiful but so short,
how can i forget the endless yesterday?
when you are here with me.


in loving memory of my sister (you are not an angel but you did what an angel can do,you fly to heaven.)


Details | Free verse | |

Like the frightened Jackrabbit, I run away from Love

Jump up and down like a jackrabbit
running through meadows
running from what?
Could it be heartbreak,
a venemous snake that hides in the grass,
hiding with fangs ready to pierce the tender skin
upon the tight, bronze flesh of everyday life?
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye now!
I need a vacation a long way away from the faceless smiles
and ignorance of young girls, who don't look at you,
who don't show you love and respect.
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye now,
as jumping spiders hop everywhere, crawling eight legs around me
my soul black like carcoal, but my heart still beating
slower this time, not like the days before
and like the jackrabbit running from anything and everything,
I run to seek love and vanish away from the empty voids
that people call, their souls.
Recording a film with no tape,
talking to a woman you love, but not having the guts to tell her how you really feel
Jump my boy, like a jackrabbit, take my advice
tell her before she leaves
turns down the endless avenues of endless dark love
the trees grow taller, taller than you
and you sit there feeling away yourself die, missing out in life.
I cannot see you lose your love.
Say it, say it, Say it!!! Tell her! Tell her! Build the guts up!
Build up the courage, tell her how you feel. Take her by the hand and never say goodbye! Never say goodnight, stay with her till the flight comes in the morning
of the first rays of sun shine through your dorm room take her and love her!
Do not be like me, the jackrabbit! I see no happiness
Reading poetry it makes me sad,
to write of others falling in love and I never finding the one.
People tell me, you'll find yours, have hope
but I am a frightened little jackrabbit
who flees from sounds of deep emotions, not having courage to fall in love,
not building the guts up to tell her how I really feel.
She walks alone, I find my oppertunity and sing my love song
She smiles and moves on,
please tell me I cannot fight anymore.
All I have to say is Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye
I need a vacation
to go to some sandy beach on an island of love
and write and write and write, the same poetry that depresses me
but makes you all fall in love with words!
Fiction about love stories, please kiss me
Blue eyed death comes, plays a game of chess with me
I bet twenty, he bets my soul
Kiss me death, the only love I'll ever get,
besides my poet friends who kiss my ass
Listen to my heart, truely, I don't write of beauty
I write for the sorrow soul, the fleeing jackrabbit
running away from love.....


Details | Free verse | |

Her Final Words

"No." She whispered before drowning into her sorrows.
Her life had been a simple happy one. 
There were no pains and no troubles.
Life was life and people were people.
Life was simple.
and life was all about tomorrows.
Life didn't know about sorrows.
Her sorrows.
Those same sorrows that she drowned in never existed. 
They were never there, but where?
First to be sad in the naive town of joy.
Sorrow became contagious and what was known as happiness no longer was there.
It was non-exististent. 
A meager thought 
and a blessed memory.
She tried and tried.
She failed and failed.
Life was no longer hers.
For Pain was her only possession.
Her curse.
She lived and she died.
Yet, her legacy was passed on.
Never was it gone.
"No." She whispered before drowning in her sorrows, 
"Save them."


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Is It A Dream World

A funny little clown, a bright red nose.
Lots of make-up, and bright blue bows.

Children laughing, some fat and some thin.
Either dressed in new clothes or rags that are faded and dim.

Pretty white ponies with beautiful glittery saddles.
And again, those funny clowns are hitting eachother with paddles.

One clown keeps fallimg and pretending to cry.
The other is daydreaming and lets out a big sigh.

There are beautiful ladies whose costumes are rare.
And a man who scares the children by dressing up as a bear.

Fantasizing is a convienient thing, it keeps the shock low.
So the surprise about the real world won't be such a big blow.

"Surprised about what"? is what you ask next.
Its something you can't learn in a text.

You'll learn about life by the things you go through.
You'll learn about whats fake and about what is true.

You'll see that the clowns are still funny and have a red nose.
But then you'll see realize only money buys the ladies rare clothes.

That's also when you realize your clothes are faded and dim.
And you recognize how many times you've been beaten by him.

Yes, those clowns with paddles are at it again.
Funny. They are married and they're children number ten.

Thier children are scared and crying in bed.
Because thier big mean daddy made thier sweet mommy dead.


Details | Blank verse | |

As The Other Me Takes Over

Society is a reason that has just ran cold,
Like the tempature I'm feeling never seems to get ahold,
The sadness lingers over and the beauty starts to fade,
When I saw all the negative on the news today,
The darkness that is surrounding me has found a new home,
Deep inside my brain it swells trying to kill the bold,
The new found confidence I had seems to have been old,
Like the old man with the cancer that has just got told,
I know he's still with me in my heart and in my soul,
but I just can't stand what this new year has to hold,
Will it be good for me, will I see, 
All the positive, when will the demons stop to breathe?
There like vultures in my body, I can feel them feed,
All this happiness that I held, were they just a dream?
I've found a medicene that will kill the pain, of the hurt I share,
Your pain it scars me like a knife cutting threw the care,
The worry of this generation is not what it should be,
But I was left with a gift, I'm lucky too be me.
Can I be the light, In the darkness?
Can I bare the stake running threw your lungs,
Can I be the air that you breathe when the whole worlds died,
Can I be the tears in the midst of happiness you cried?
 
Please love me now and in return I'll make your life worth while,
and you won't know what is hurt, I'll heal your wounds and take you from your life,
Give you a new start and I'll set things right,
I see the innocense in a noose every single night,
I wish I could pick them off the rope so high,
What would drive them too that point,
I regret the days I spent,
Being so unhappy in the life I live,
I'm trying to be proud in a world where it's scarase,
Where children have no parents,
Where the government is only but single Tyrants,
So make my job easy and give me the knife,
That will kill these lunatics that crave the night,
That don't do whats right,
I will train in the darkness where I'm the only light,
I will rid the world of there parrell and strife.
Please god just save me tonight.


Details | Monorhyme | |

THE LAST SNAP

A burial site, with coffin lay
the flag does cover flat,
the Honor Guard, in crisp array
will lift and fold ~  first snap!

The years of struggle now beneath
with courage so compact,
a solemn moment in bequeath
contention wavers placid.

Ah, fold the corners so complete
your elbows, measure ~ pat
you'll hand it to the honor seats
from arms to breast ~ they'll mat!

We know War was a major feat,
we shared the absenced fact
a loved one, always gone, replete
now silence follows aft!

Salute and click your heels so grand
bend forward, hand to wit
the loved ones in the chosen seats ~
   . . . . . .so close to gather it! . . . . .


 The Military funeral is the most moving of any ceremony ever, anywhere!
In my time, two fathers, and a brother ~ the training must be precise,
the Honor Guard, almost dance through with such awesome respect!


Details | Rhyme | |

How do you wanna be remembered

Has that question ever sneaked its way into the conscious of your third eye? 
Have you ever took pause from your self and viewed yourself as a he was or she was?
Release that parachute from flight and ground your soul with the memories of others thoughts.
The limits down here are not as high as the sky. 
We get one chance to imprint the fixture, the movement... The tone of a legacy left by indifferences that makes you you!
The day my handkerchief floats no longer and drifts to the ground, I envision the power outage of the world. 
Darcel stood a monument that people just had to get a glance at. 
Darcel spoke with his heart while even in defeat. A lyric can’t harmonize the music that D. Sharp stands for. 
A silence of over joy for him applauded over the art of tap. 
Heads rolling back accepting the embodiment of fruits picked from me. 
Screams of loss jamming frequencies of those trying to pick and hold on to one of the many memories of me.
GOOD OR BAD
I call on the locksmith that is you and you and you to unchain what is me, myself, and I with a twist of your key. 
God allowed me to plant it, to water it, and nurture it within a bunkered facility. 
Some might say he aint this and he wasn't that but remember.
I say remember because at one point in your life I was perfect for you. 
I aided you to or from a circumstance that gave u clean air to breathe. 
Now aint that some shit!
That’s how I will be remembered!


Details | Ballad | |

Rosaline

Moonlight shines down on my cold, pale face I am alone, her raven calling, I am disgrace Falling as the willows weep, I hold her in my arms as she struggles to breathe Rosaline, my one love divine. You are sacred You are mine Her voice rising above the water Beautiful Rosaline sang silently to me The whispers trailing off her fingers, as she faded into the darkness My beautiful angel has vanished again Goodbye my Beautiful Rosaline. Happened that Grim reckless day when the shadows began to play Beauty detonated in my trust No more, no more will there ever be a witch so grand, as to bring back my Beloved Rosaline Sorrow cuts it's way into my heart It is the locked key, the one you keep Her voice rising above the water Beautiful Rosaline sang silently to me The whispers trailing off her fingers, as she faded into the darkness My beautiful angel has vanished again Goodbye my Beautiful Rosaline So leaving this Tragic scene I vanished from Rosaline's sight Nevermore will there ever be a witch so grand, as to bring back my Beloved Rosaline Her voice rising above the water Beautiful Rosaline sang silently to me The whispers trailing off her fingers, as she faded into the darkness My beautiful angel has vanished again Goodbye my Beautiful Rosaline. Enchanting she sang to me, in the everlasting light of peace My beautiful siren walks again Goodnight my Beautiful Rosaline


Details | Free verse | |

Abused

The beautiful girl that lives down the street
The one that has bruises from being beat. 
Her heart is frail, she’s lost all hope, 
Her moms new boyfriend hits her to cope.
She’s limping because this nasty man
Where her mother is is unknown
Her eyes are scared and full of fright
because she is afraid to be alone.
The bruises started yellowing.
She was in much pain.
The tears fell down her little face
And outside it began to rain.
At school she was a quiet one.
No one knew her name.
The teachers, they said nothing
Even though they saw her pain.
One day when we watched the news
a picture of a familiar face
I felt the tears build
With greatest sadness and despair
It said that she was killed.
Loud tears filled my home
As I thought of that little girl
Who now would never see
Her future in this world.


Details | Verse | |

ON THAT FAITHFUL DAY

On that faithful day;
A day that will never be dismissed from the mind.
It was a beautiful morning,
And from the city I watched the two glaring towers,
Standing body to body like twins,
As the sun passed through them to shine.

I imagined my likes inside these towers
Going about their usual calls for duty,
And the next minute in a blink,
The attack whooshed in and spared no foe.
Some rescued but not as they were;
Some turned ashes and went with flames;
Others buried by the beautiful towers,
as they crushed down with little or no help.

What is happening to us?
Is the world coming to an end?
Cried every mind running insane,
As toxic palls went after them like a monster;
People running helter-skelter like aroused ants,
As their nostrils seek a protective refuge,
Not to be the cause of more death.
Homes taken over by smokes and heat
Leaving residents out in the street;
Children screaming to cling to their mothers,
But mothers no where to be found.

Oh! What a day that cursed parents childless
And made children orphans;
Day and night so far as foes,
As the day was so long that find the night.
Fear became the only feelings of the heart,
as the beautiful day turned an ugly night.

If I were to make a wish,
I would have wished the day never came;
I would have wished 9/11 was but a movies caption
Handsomely taking home an oscar.
Have I powers enough to hold back the hands of time,
I would have stopped the day that came by night.
But behold, it was but a horrible day,
Claiming every life it could find
And flaming the city in destruction.

And for the deceased noble authorities,
What would you have done?
Other than giving your lives for a life,
To save the nation from the dark day.
Minds will always remember your selflessness,
Your bejeweled monuments will always be flowered
And never anniversaries cease to bear your memories,
For the lives you died to save
On that dreadful day.


Details | Free verse | |

To my eldest

Joshua Louis Pokorny Sullivan

Joshua was a beautiful soul
always soaring about

He brought love, laughter to everyone
even those who knew him not

Joshua was a beautiful soul
always expressing himself through art

He brought beauty, color, and humor
to everything he crossed

Joshua was a beautiful soul
always kind, compassionate, and strong

He tried to keep going and going
obstacles all along

Joshua was a beautiful soul
always funny, comforting, and smart

He knew just what to say and do
to make him be apart of you

Joshua was a beautiful soul
a wounded bird that no one could catch

He wanted to live in a life of ease
feeling no pain or disease

Joshua was a beautiful soul
no more problems to attend

He lives in Heaven now
like the Rose of Sharon

Joshua was a beautiful soul
the only rose in a field of trees.

He will always be loved
and never forgotten

Joshua IS a beautiful soul.........

Holly Moore, and my son, Jonathan Sullivan
July 2012