These Grief Holiday poems are examples of Holiday poems about Grief. These are the best examples of Grief Holiday poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
My Mother caring about all five in different ways
Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays
My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John.
music a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !
Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr. , Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
The music takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "
My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food
the yelling , slamming of doors , tempers Flare , passion
Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate .
After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate ..
Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?
Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee
No matter what the mix ..Our curse Alcohol ~
the Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on .
Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
Excited in Chicago ! seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
Cubs , museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `
Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones ,
scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
~ That is the Family I Love ,
that is the Family I choose to miss ~
It's Christmas! Christmas!
That time of year
When people are filled...
With holiday cheer?
Yeah right. . .
I really do wish it were true
But people are people
Through and through
It's not about happiness anymore
Or in respect to what matters.
In reality it concerns what you get
And the food that is piled on the platters.
What has happened to the world of today?
Where is the 'loving and giving...'?
Now it is all just me, me, me.
Is this a nightmare? Or are we actually living.
Yep we might have a lot of things
Hang on! Let's add some more
It isn't the family that I'm expecting
But the postman knocking at the door.
When the topic turns to Christmas cheer
Lets go stuff our faces...
Break out all that lovely beer!
Chuck away those graces!
But... Suddenly the month is over
There go all the gifts you gave
Your debt payments crawl closer and closer
And you become a material slave.
There's something unspecific about the autumn nights
A certain shade of color that uplifts my inner child's eyes
Beside a cashmere moon Venus and Jupiter shine bright
Complimented by a sea of blinking infinite twilight
The scent of burning oak lingers in the air from home made fires
Reminiscent of a time when this man was just a child
Careless and so free to dream and any dream to live
Like feathers floating across a field carried by the wind
As a gentle breeze blows through the leaves shivering delightful gloom
Unlike flowers of springtime the disheveled autumn vibrance bloom
Leaves crackle beneath my feet along the skeleton tree path
Where I try to find my peace or a song to make me laugh
The air is so much crisper and also soothing when I breathe it in
Underneath a starry sky and brighter constellations of Heaven
Amidst the trail I pass a lovely couple holding hands
While their children run aside frolicking in a playful dance
An old man and his wife admire the view from a wooden bench
With smiles on their face as if nostalgia is still their closest friend
Its these specific autumn affects that bring me sorrows and joy
Reminding me of all theses things Ive wanted as a man since I was a little boy
Its times like these that I wish I wasn't always so alone
Because I would light an fire with my family and call it home
Inspired by Andreas contest, though in ballade form. not for contest.
That awful Christmas day
The sun was shining bright outside
Christmas day was here
We’d all enjoyed our Christmas lunch
Then drank some wine and beer
Everyone wore happy smiles
It was that kind of day
When everyone was filled with cheer
And the atmosphere was gay.
Then we smelled that acrid smoke
It was heavy in the air
I looked outside and fear hit me
The flames were everywhere
A fire had started in the bush
And now it was upon us
Everyone was in blind panic
Creating such a fuss
All of us fled from the house
And gathered there outside
As the fire devoured our lovely home
I was stunned, I could have cried
For nothing could be done at all
The firemen came too late
On that sad, sad Christmas day
Much fear life did create.
Entombed behind isolation walled
A haunting malice trapped me within.
Crouching beneath shadows shroud,
Leering eyes pierce.
Through darkness’s pitch black,
Pacing beast intercepting motions,
Movements, mocking my,
Feeble attempts to evade frenzy's,
Deceptions deceiver, silver tongued,
Weaver, spewing lies deceit.
Intricately aligning it's widow,
Feasting on innocence betrayal.
Heckling, laughter echoes, against,
A chilling appetizing, as if pleased,
At malice’s intent.
Fiendishly, delighting in torturing,
It’s human pet.
A vacant mumbling feeling over,
A deeper anger begins to rage,
Rebelling against hatred’s,
Motivated to survive beyond spectral,
Hear my disgust, creature,
I shall destroy thee.
Leave me alone, screaming aloud,
Sanity's domain gives way.
In musty halls empty hollows,
An odorous stench.
Fills mine senses,
Cease mortal miscreant,
None leave here alive,
Shudders blood runs cold down raw
Veins nerve endings,
A deepening realizations rushes,
The conscious mind,
I'm deaths play thing.
To be pounced upon, a toy mouse,
Caught between claws,
Extracting, retracting at whims invoking.
Invisible hands grasp choking life's,
Feeling every heartbeat slowing,
Stinging painfully ringing at ear,
Oblivion's mute murmurs never part,
Lips tightly closed.
Let mercy's fallen be forgiven,
Beyond hells hidden regions,
A place devoid of spiritual salvation.
Foul demonic spirit haunting,
A madman's kingdom,
It whispers to me in sweet melodies,
Now we begin, and you truly belong to me,
With satisfactions grimace, it smiles.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
flash out of sync from her tree....
she can't remember
laughter in the snow,
only a grave beneath it
For Contest: Sad Tanka
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