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Son Funeral Poems | Funeral Poems About Son

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

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Details | I do not know? |

Today Is Terrible----

The cracked spine of
the book I dropped
at the call.
A chip in my
windshield left by a
pompous *?#@! in a
red sports car as I
drive to the
service.
Rain expectorating
from an ashen sky as
the dirt is turned.
Today is terrible.
Though this is less
terrible than the
crack in grandma’s
spine from her fall
down the stairs.
The chip in her
amazingly smart mind
after eighteen years
as a teacher.
Tears running,
dripping from my
Mothers ashen face
as she cries “My
mama’s dead.”
Today is terrible.
Though this is less
terrible than the
cracked family
emotions left raw
and empty.
The chip in Grandpas
numb mind at the
gathering… “Where is
Irene she should be
here?”
Faces gone ashen
with dread, do we
leave him numb or
remind him that his
wife is dead?
Today is terrible.
Though this is less
terrible than the
empty silences,
missing the jokes
Grandma used to
crack.
Grandma’s laugh and
her endless smile
which always exposed
that tooth with the
chip in it.
Without her the
world has become
empty, bleak, and
ashen.
Today is terrible.

                   
                   
                   
          Summer
Gratias


Details | I do not know? |

Hugs

Teenage Girls clad in the latest fashions,
Do it whenever they meet,
Grown men aren't afraid to show some passion,
When their team's comeback is complete,
They can say hello, they can say goodbye,
And anything inbetween,
If you open your arms and crack a smile,
There is nothing that a hug cannot mean.


Details | Verse |

I'm Going Home

,

Lord thank you for this life,
As I have lived a full life,
It was not always as I would have like,
But I lived it to the best of what I could,
I’m going home; Home to the place I want to be,
I’m going home to Jesus where He waits for me,
I have been a long weary believer, 
As I’ve been away to long,
I now know what I’ve been searching for, 
As He's been there in me all along,
I’m going home; Home is the place I want to be,
I’m going home to Jesus where He waits for me,
I have been and seen lots of places in life’s journey,
Now I yearn for familiar faces in familiar places,
I hear familiar voices calling me to come home, 
I see familiar faces looking at me,
I’m going home; Home is the place I want to be,
I’m going home to Jesus where He waits for me,
My time is near, the hour I know not,
I see Jesus' face across the Heaven’s,
I hear His soft sweet voice calling me home,
 I can’t wait for my real life to begin,
I’m going home; Home is the place I want to be,
I’m going home to Jesus where He waits for me.

By; Rev. Samuel and Esta Mack, OMS
Copyright 2011

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Details | Dramatic monologue |

To a Dead Man

You Drive me into this Malice, into this Maze I can only see the last of days Your Creation Failed With Me Burn with malice as you bridge to the plains of ennui


Details | I do not know? |

The Women



The Women



(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)



Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,

they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.



They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,

and white was right in South Africa back then,

but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,

you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.



You, my mother, would not, could not break,

You stood firm, you stood tall.

You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.



You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,

the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,

my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,

by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.



You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.

You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,

you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,

you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.



Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,

all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.



I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,

the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.



I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,

you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,

of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.


I salute you!



(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)






Details | Free verse |

The Old Salt

The Old Salt was a special man who came along in a time
when he was needed most.

A time that is now gone forever.
When men believed and sacrificed, when hero’s walked the earth in mass.

When patriotism was not just a word
but,
by what men lived and judged the worth of each, 
a man who lived a life most of us cannot comprehend. 

An era now gone as this warriors tour of duty ends at this station, 
and begins anew in the heavenly fleet. 

Sail on Sailor into your unaccompanied tour,
we salute you.

What greater honor, that when a man moves forward, 
he leaves behind in each of us the best of what he was. 

A defender, protector, supporter, victor, a warrior, 
the last of the breed from an era when ships were made of wood
and men were made of steel.

The Old Salt has reported for duty that takes him away from us for now. 

Those of us who remain behind,
remember, and will continue to remember, 
because he now resides forever in our hearts.

As I look up at night, I envision The Old Salt,
a beret draped just above the eye, 
as he draws upon his pipe, 
quietly he waits.
The guardian of heaven’s gate.



Details | Concrete |

Confession Chamber

Forgive me Father for I have sinned,
for being born with you to begin,
its been a long time since my last confession,
I don't wont your blessing,
lies and resurrection.
I don't believe in love, I don't believe in faith,
cant stand my own kind,
humble in hate,
I don't believe in truth, I don't wont to be saved,
erase me from your list,
buried, unmarked,
graved.

Abused as a child,
bloodstains of a man,
only shovel awaits,
forgive me if you can.


Details | Verse |

Through A Prison Glass

You came unexpectedly, and i was surprised,
you smiled and placed your hand on the glass and cried.
I leaned my head against the glass and told you i am sorry,
i whisper through the phone line, ill start a new story.

You knew i was innocent but you still didn't believe me,
the only person i thought that would stay by my side but you couldn't be. 
Mom standing by your side and not wanting to talk,
i got really upset that you came at all cause i didn't want to see you walk. 

I needed you, when i was in need,
i was there for you when ever you didn't want to bleed.
I loved you and i cherished you with all my heart,
but before you left your words hit me like a really sharp dart.

You said i failed you,
you cried to me and i knew it was true.
But i needed you to understand me,
but you went your way and upset me.

The glass is now empty and i cant find you even with the fact that I'm out,
i tell you i love you but all you do is shout. 
I've lost you for good this time, 
so i think i have to do one more crime. 


Details | Free verse |

My Grandfathers Dying Wish

See problems they no worry Timothy
He was raised by his Great Grandmother
One day she taught him
Miho you can make life beautiful or ugly
Work hard, find a woman who has a strong back
Beauty fades it doesn’t last long
Now let me tell you 
A woman with a strong back may not be your perfect companion
Times are changing, I think Faith is more important these days
I say okay Grandma, can I have the horachata now that you made me
No hush up! You can have it when I’m finished talking
Timothy come your poor Grandfather wanted you to have this
It is his Journal and I have never read out of it
She hands it to me
I am struck by it’s cover, it is brown and plain
Yet it spoke to me by it’s elegant style
These words were printed on the cover “Blanco Vendetta”
I was drawn and pulled in untill I was covered by the spell
The first page I open too it says “My first Mil Besos”
The Temptess that blew my heart away
I turn to page 33
It says “The story of an Apache Warrior”
There are no rules to an Apache Warrior when it comes to fighting
He says if you are my enemy I don’t care how but I’m gonna kill you
Page 41 is like a fist full of words thrown across the page
Barrio boxing, The protection of the Shield of Faith
Brokenhearted for my careless speech has left her heartbroken
Strengthened by Love “Amor”
Nourished by the sunshine in her hand
There is healing in its beams
Blessed by her presence Del Dios I am Greatful
I’m like Grandpa what did you say wrong
Then these words come to me
Give her your full attention when she speaks to you
Because the Heart of the Wise studies how to answer
So I close it and my finger brushes a bookmark
It’s the Last page
It says To: “Timothy my son who is as mighty as an army”
I Thank you for the Greatest Gift
For the Greatest Gifts are as small as your small hand that touched me
I plant these seeds and they will take root and grow because you are good ground
Timothy let me say That without you I would of never found my Faith in GOD
Listen for it is your Grandfather who is dead and speechless
Timothy you see the good in everything
And I know you will understand my words clearly
If a man gives you his word
Promise me not to plan your future on it
And if you give your word my son
Do everything in your Power to fulfill it
AND NEVER Promise more than you can deliver 
For it is better to put out more than you promised
Everyman is considered unwise when he appears foolish
I wish I could give you some insight about women
But your Great Grandmother may help you better than I can
But never timothy, Never be quick to fall in Love 
Or give your heart to a woman
Listen carefully to her words when she speaks to you
Cherish Her give her your full undue attention 
Because the Heart of the Wise studies how to answer
Love your neighbors as yourself
And do not strive against another man
If he has done nothing wrong to offend you
AS much as it is possible live peacefully with all men
And it is okay for you to speak these things with your Great Grandmother
She is a very wise and God-fearing woman
Amor take the greatest care of her, I Love you Son
Timothy when the time comes to avenge my death
Hit harder then you ever have before
But not in a Duel son, not like an open Vendetta
Marry his daughter Maria
The one who is pretty and Two years younger than you
Oh! He will suffer greatly!
And it will kill him to know that I chose this way to repay him
And remember son to be ready to fight any man at the drop of a hat


Details | Narrative |

How Hard Could it Be Part 1

How hard could it be to take my first step?

“Come to mommy, you can do it.”

“Oh you're home. Hon, look at him go.”

As I take another step, he picks me up.

He hugs me tight but gently and kisses me on the cheek.

I feel so safe, loved and happy. Perhaps that's how it was.

(I really don't remember back that far.)


How hard could it be, my first day at school.

My mom meets me at the front door of the building,

hugs me and says, “How was your first day? Did you have fun today?”

He comes home after a hard day at work and mom says,

“Hi Hon, it was Den’s first day of school.”

He picks me up in his strong arms and says,

“I knew you could do it.” A hug and a kiss on the cheek.


How hard could it be to learn how to drive a car or a truck?

“Den, come with me. Let's take a short ride down the road.”

We both climb up into Dad's blue 1955 Chevy pickup.

He stops on the back road, gets out, comes around and says, “Scoot over. It's

your turn.”

I start the engine, push in the clutch, shift and we start out slowly.

I'm nervous, I speed up, clutch in, shift again.

Oh crap, I shifted into reverse, truck stopped abruptly and backfired.

Dad looks at me, “But you did it.“ He hugs me, a kiss on the cheek.


How hard could it be to go away to college?

I'm so glad she has a phone so I can call my mom and dad.

“Hi Den, how are things going? You've got a B average.

That's great. I knew you could do it. I love you, see you soon.”

“You met a girl? What's her name? Wow, see you soon. I love you”

“You want to marry her? Big step; in Holland? Okay, we love you.”

How hard could it be to have a family?

“Oh, it's a girl. Mireille, that's a nice name.” He hugs me, kiss on the cheek.

“Another girl, Michelle, that's a nice name too.” He hugs me, kiss on the cheek.

“You finally had a boy, Michael, good choice.” Hug and a kiss.

Birthdays, holidays, weekends, visits back and forth, phone calls.

He loves them all, unconditionally. Hugs and kisses all around.


How hard could it be as life goes on?

He watches them grow up, get married and have children.

He loves them all, unconditionally, hugs and kisses all around.

We take short trips and mom and Dad go with us now and then.

We go camping and mom and Dad visit us now and then.

Every time you left, hugs and kisses all around. Always, “See you soon.”


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