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Evil Funeral Poems | Evil Poems About Funeral

These Evil Funeral poems are examples of Evil poems about Funeral. These are the best examples of Evil Funeral 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 | Bio | |

MH17 TRAGEDY

This is a tragedy
A tragic in the history
MH a Malaysian Hospitality
Ended in a catastrophe
Another date of unhappy

July 17 you flew from Amsterdam
MH 17 you are proud flying no harm
Boeing 777 is your airplane
You are shot down in Ukraine
That’s in the Russian border
In the conflict zone it happen

Malaysians are shock
Everyone felt struck
And we mourn the attack
Crying your luck

Your destiny hack
Before MH370 is back
You come with a shock
Suppose Kuala Lumpur is your last track


Kota Kinabalu (18 July)


Details | Narrative | |

From Rotgut To Hell

Bart Coleman is my name.
Five Card Stud is my game.
I had ridden into Rotgut two days before.
It is a small dusty rundown nowhere town.
I spent most of my time there in Salty Sam’s Saloon.
I had taken the local yokels for a tidy little sum.
Then, to my shock and chagrin,
Zack Waverly walked into Salty Sam’s.
I had taken most of his dough down in Abilene
three months or so before I wandered into Rotgut.
Zack spotted me, called me a dirty rat,
drew his fancy Colt pistol and shot me in my chest.
I didn’t even have time to draw a breath
and I was stone cold dead before my body
hit the the creaky wooden saloon floor.
The sheriff had a couple of drunken prisoners
bury my body in a shallow grave up on Boothill.
In a flim flam flash my eternal soul was in the pit of Hell.
I would have cried, but a soul cannot shed tears,
when I was informed by that old serpent Beelzebub himself
that there is absolutely no gambling allowed in Hades.
Now I truly understand why the netherworld is called Hell.


Details | Elegy | |

A Soldier's Elegy

A kestrel dips into an updraft
thinking he knows the world
tranquility gurgles 
through silent valleys
over mountains
around the earth
refracted 
through the wind

The creature soars ever higher
in great swoops and dives
the horizon curves as it eludes vision
the stars pulse their siren
but thrill denies
adrenaline overrules
their ambient warning

Gust to gust each fades 
quicker than the last
whispers carry the weight of wings
and their soulful song breaches sanity
prayers of rightful good
where petty purple banners
crest twinkling hearts

The last thermal ridden
last lyric dies
as flight’s drone fades
upturned wings alone
the sky empty oblivion
as the sun aligns its beady eye
to the looping path of the bird

Two brittle forms 
grapple in light
which blots out the senses
and protects 
what can never be touched
divine oblivion 
smites the naive bird
an archangel buried
in a crypt 
six feet deep.


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 | Rhyme | |

The Twilight Moor

Gazing out upon dusky barren moor,
Where gray grass grasps the air
Finding no purchase but sad allure
Straight stalks elapse their endless despair.

Teased by tales of golden reach
Tricked by gales, whose song they preach.

Redtail’s velvet wings breach the sky,
Maroon lips who kiss the grass
Stirring the song, its desperate sigh
Catching the words, her beak of crystal glass

Behind her, midnight shadow draws
Fells her beauty with unseen charcoal paws

Scarlet tears dampen the earth below
Nurture the roots held by dusty truth
Finally, the wind, gray grass’ will bestow
The hawk once, now the fountain of youth.

Litany of silence reigns in dusky glare,
Each blade bowed in mournful prayer.


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 | 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.


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 | Rhyme | |

Of Evil Sin and Shame

Carousels and merry-go-rounds of beyond days Captured and punished us because of selfish ways Made projects of and dissected our lives Raping women and beating children and wives One-thousand knives cut deep into the heart Always around and running our lives from the start Murderous monsters are on the prowl --- loose day by day Murdered and violated in every single possible way Mobsters and gangsters take control of our streets So many people gathered around mortuaries --- they weep Why has all this evil flowed through our graced lands? Why are there glass and razorblades littering our sands? Babies without family and infants without a name Who is all but ourselves for all this sin and shame? The Devil and his minions infect the world we live He has our souls and lives --- what else can we give? How do you counter an attack from the other side? How can we tell what's the truth and what's been lied? I guess that deep within your heart of hearts the answer is Finding the right religion is the answer and the quiz


Details | Blank verse | |

Six million feet under

Six million feet under...going down dirty tubes and dark tunnels
Gun shots...sirens...lightning and thunder
Falling from grace and I'm falling forever
Too far gone...six million feet under

Six million feet under...black clouds, bullets and rounds
Genocidal gangsters turn my smiles into frowns
Giggling with glee lunatics they spew their loud laughter
Too far gone...six million feet under

Six million feet under...close my mind, my eyes, my ears
No truth...no tears
Death is coming to life and my vision is clear
Now the undertaker bangs his death drum drama
Too far gone...six million feet under

Six million feet under...like a lost lamb stuck inside of a lions mouth
I hear the devil and his demons screaming murderous shouts
Just another slain sheep now sobbing at the slaughter
I roll like a stone and fall dead at the alter
Too far gone...six million feet under


Details | Free verse | |

An Emperor's gift to his son (the story of the root of all evil)

There once was an emperor who had a son
a son who would need to learn lessons in mastermining
to govern the world 
thus he gave his son a gift
the lottery

By doing proper math,
formulating teams
to purchase every possible ticket
to win his own lottery
a life lesson of a bribe to demonstrate his ability of doing some excellent math

by mentioning this one day
the emperor's son was ostrocised by society
shunned, introduced to temptation after temptation
drugs and alcohol
held hostage by society

driven to madness
the emperor's son
lit a house on fire to serve his prison sentence
away to a mental institute where he was mentally and physically tortured
through an abusive therapy of medications
reverse psychology

Not sure if my father is still out there
if i'll ever get to meet him
if i was kidnapped or switched at birth
this is my story of a gift an emperor gave
turned society into a disgusting life long experience
while living constant punishment of how pointless life was
formed their own teams
using the emperor's son's formula
rubbed their happiness and succes in his face
proceeded to use their funds to keep their hostage miserable

There is nothing worse in the world you can do to me
it's all been done
nothing worse than existance
i know this from personal experience
many of you were bribed and ready to do the wrong thing
many of you who looked upon a tortured soul and couldn't see his pain
just retaliate with more punishments for his imperfections
nothing more than perfect emotions anyone would feel

This is my story
a truth i've never known or been told
desire parental tests by some doctor who is not going to accept a bribe
i deserve to know the truth
it is definately my turn to have something good happen to me
for the first time in my life

when for the first time in my life
don't be surprised to find it to be an overwhelming experience
of one person's struggle to defend their own life
discover their truth
outwit their suppressors
and overcome the knowledge a disgusting life experience
that will never happen to anyone again

I lived the root of all evil that you used as a weapon
as i was claimed victom to your comandments you used to blackmail me with   
make me look like i was the 
antichrist
do not lie about this
start talking
i'm sure there is a higher reward in freeing societies captive
so he can meet his own father
im tired of trying to comit suicide on christmas and my birthday


Details | Senryu | |

Remains appalling

golden grave diggers                                                                                                  they never will earn enough                                                                                    ghoulish disrespect                                                                                            -            -Thieves try to steal Sigmund Freud's ashes


Details | I do not know? | |

Evil pretending to be good

Is the worst kind of evil,
It stings the heart,
When you find out everybody is lying to you,
Evil pretends to be good,
Evil gets eventually found out and destroyed.


Details | Rhyme | |

Olivia love hate

Olivia, a travel friend
the one person I'm sure I can depend 
when in wrong she'll tell me so!!

if she's sad shell let me know 
but her mouth ohhh her mouth 
could fit ten million figs newton's 

she makes mistakes and quite a lot 
but she's a friend and all I've got 
she makes mistakes but so do I and 
dear Olivia I can not lie one day 
possibly tomorrow I just might die.

because although the many great qualities you have
 there are days you just drive me mad