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Funeral Evil Poems | Evil Poems About Funeral

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

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Details | I do not know? |

the hitchcock thriller

Some love too little, some love too long,
some they answer the riddle but fail to move on
some laugh and  others cry
when truest feelings have been denied
Some do the act with a show of tears,
surrendering everything showing their fears
And some without a sigh;
they just let their pride die
For some men kill the things they love, 
power given from up above
Yet each man does deny.
power from heaven they devise

Some kill love when in their youth,
some kill with abuse
And some when they grow old;
in the end the scam unfolds
Some smother with the hand of greed,
turning away from the hand of need
Because of lust for gold;
the way of love had turned old
The evil use their tongue because,
of vengence to discover
It takes love where it’s cold
and evil thought it mutters

But men who kill the girl they love,
and claim a passion from heaven above
have a story to be heard; 
lets not listen to one word
Some do it with a callous look
with a  wisdom from the good book
Some with a bitter word;
and with some with passion never heard,
The tyrant does it with his fist,
and serial killer with his list
The weak man with a sword.
a genious that was bored


(A collaboration by Elizabeth Wesley and John H Loving III)


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 | Ballad |

The ballad of Tich Thomas

The Ballad of Tich Tomas
.
A dog was howling in the night
Perhaps she knew the truth
That Tich would not be coming home
This dog needed no proof
That the man who she loved so
He’d come to her no more
Because Lance corporal Thomas was
 A victim of the war.

Now Tich, he was a country boy
His farm it was his life
A boon to his community
He’d give in times of strife
He learned his trade in farming school
With honours he’d come through
Then settled down to work his farm
That’s what he planned to do.

But then, one day it came to him
The news he did not need
He’d been called up for army life
He went off without heed
To do his time in Puckapunyal
To get him set for war
He soon made it as Infanteer
So he joined a fighting corp

He worked real hard and gained a stripe
This showed he had potential
He earned his skills in jungle fighting
And then there came the call
For he to go to Vietnam
To five RAR he was sent
Charlie company was his unit
When off to war he went

It was in April sixty six
Our man went into battle
There in the Phuc Tuy provence
Those guns did roar and rattle
Our Tich he fought real gallantly
So brave was he, but then
The shrapnel done it’s evil job
He joined the fallen men.

They brought his body back to those
Who were waiting for him there
The whole town came to welcome him
And helped with grief and prayer
They buried him with all the honours
That came to fighting souls
Who died to keep their country free
Courageous in their roles.

More honour it was placed on him
By the country where he’d fought
They built a statue in his name
And his likeness it was caught
By the sculptor who did honour him
And carve him into stone
And now Tich Tomas guards the park
As he stands there all alone.

If you’re ever down in Nannup town
Go to the park that’s there
You’ll see the statue of young Tich
As his spirit everywhere
Will fill the souls of those who see
This fighting man, so brave
Who’s body lies so peacefully
In his own town, in a grave.

2007


Details | Free verse |

Good Morning Doctor Death

Waking up five in the morning,
and looking the dawn's sun rise,
to start the day with a yawn and strech.
Smell the morning dew,
as you go and retrive the morning newspaper,
filled with tablots of lives more intresting than yours.

You wave to your hand to your neighbor,
who you don't like, still you say, "hi"
Why?
It's just the nature of the human being.
You turn and go inside,
you feel some pain on your leftside.
All those milkshakes and hamburgers
caught up to you.
What do you do?
Not much, you can do now,
You fall to the ground, clenching your chest;
you call out for help, but no one comes.
You see your neightbor, but he doesn't mind.
See he hated you as well, like you hated him,
and he is glad to see you fall to your
knees and beg for Mercy.

Oh no! here he comes,
Doctor Death, no not Jack Kavorkian,
No! the big cheese,
the Creature that prays on black souls,
just like yours.
Doctor Death come on down! Come and clam your prize!
Good morning Doctor Death! I'm ready,
Are you?


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 | Ballade |

Bowl of sorrow


              
                      Eating bowls of dying meat
                      sucking poison which taste sweet.
                    Gas filled bodies that retain their juice
                     a dead little dog that took abuse.
                   The death song plays for a mutilated boy
                      insane parents who receive no joy.
                    Black dogs bark at the funeral fires
                     death looks down and picks his desires.
                   The decapitated body of an unknown man
                       no one cried which was part of the plan.
                   A shot in the dark took the poor man down
                     crazy children laugh as they hear the sound.
                    'Blood in the gutter' whispered the man
                      slay your neighbor as fast as you can
                      No one hears this , no one understands
                     'Blood in the gutter' whispered the man.
                    A slash of the knife brought grandma down
                    the young boys laughed at the blood on the ground.
                  The blood stained clothes of a forgotten child
                    the man with the knife is running wild.
                   The meat in the gutter might be your own
                     for you are left for dead
                    and to the dogs you were thrown !
                                                                          © By Larry Hays




Details | Free verse |

But with the evil, came the good

All turned down to the worst
as the children lost innocence,
as the bums drank their last breath away,
as the man eating sharks finding their way,
to the over-crowded sandy beaches,
as the man turn to the woman
and gave her a slap across the face,
as the thef steals in the night,
as the coward goes behind his loved ones' backs,
as the oil lanterns spill over and burn the bridges
to salvation and paradise.
Something always happens to the good guy,
a knife in the back in the midst of dawn,
his woman leaving with another man,
he dying slowly of cancer,
or suffering from intoxication of the blood.
Poison. Poison, ravages his body,
oh, how could God let such things happen
to such a good man?
His life work, his social life, his nirvana
all destroied, burned away, turned to dust.

But with the evil, came the good.
Yes with time and time again
repeating itself in a circle of time,
across the crossed faces,
as blue eyed Death smiles
and as the girls grin,
Everything came into place,
Anyway with evil, came the good.
Indeed it had came right to his front doorstep.


Details | Couplet |

Love in the Time of WInter-

In an icen forest ,
inside a crystal grave,
beneath the ancient snowy trees,
a tiny fairy lays.
In frosted air above her,
brushing wings with glassine leaves,
snowflakes dust the branches,
as all faerie-kind does grieve.
For a summer fae was never meant
in wintertime to bide,
the northern King,thought love would be,
enough to warm his bride.
But the King’s brother did wish her heart to claim,
and when she did not turn,
he poisoned her with holly,
and left her with frost burn.
But justice is not lacking,
for the evil deed was seen,
a sprite was in the window,
but could not save the Queen.
The King’s brother we see frozen,
hung now from diamond thread,
he thought to win the Queen her love,
but now has lost his head.
So now forever sits the King ,
in the winter land of Fae,
to never love another ,
from the land of Summer’s Day.


Details | Free verse |

A Damnation

Here I behold my shadow, 
And it stares back at my horror
Giggling up at my very cold soul-
I seize fright, I take flight

There I peep through the mirror, 
And panic at the radial terror
The eyes, the wrinkles, the color-
Where is death; there should be no morrow!

Before me lies my photo,
once discarded afar from aversion
How did it return to my parlor?
Who pierced its eyes, X-ed the forehead?

Then I behold my Cadaver
In the red casket, sweat on its brow-
What crime soils my hands?
Is there no peace even in Death?

In disgust I turn away-to flee
But - the toll of bells - hollow knells-
Then from behind echoes a hoarse shriek

I recoil to behold that cold cadaver
Stagger from its doomed red casket
and with its mouldy hand, blackened by damnation,
Reach for my poor soul
Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!


Details | Free verse |

First shaman encounter

Coming ashore at the island of Trunyan to its teeth of bone eyes to four directions tongue bloodthirsty - what do you want this late at night? surely to seek help from the moon black chicken sticky-rice flower baskets : baskets a frozen kris at the tip of my shoulders suck the remaining portals of shame at the split of banana leaves I look at her purple sweat. her white kebaya sodden pura gede pancering jagat temple as foreground my name once again my name once again - that pot of authentic China rolls like a cart speeding out of my body like the shameless envious souls of jealous skeletons: “look ma, my soul reawakens, I am no longer dead” two baskets black chicken one o’clock that night the island of Trunyan rolled its tongue in laughter its tickled eyes stripping all bare its hoarse voice splitting the eerie road I want to go home soon – my boat is moored by the lakeside!
Notes : Kris – a dagger with jagged edges. Kebaya – traditional shirt that ladies wear in Indonesia, typically made of see-through cloth or brocade.


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