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Best Obituary Poems

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See also: Best Famous Poems

Details | Obituary Poem | |

YOU NEVER DIED

O Leader!, O Saviour! , O Braveheart!
Words went so sparse, in your praise
To Thank You, paint you an emblazon.
Galvanised is the nations skeleton now
We dare to fight, we dare to grapple.
There is no hawk on prowl, no one a maim 
You kindled the fire,  darkness burned
We enjoy the blue sky with dazzling sun

You were the Candle, you were the light
You were the ark, you swept the dark.
Courage is synonymous with your name 
Voice to, dumb by the oppression
An ear to the deaf, whose ears fear.
Shadowy  wings to the brood you gave
To outbrave the deserts of despondence
We learnt to crawl seeing you ahead.

Now I don’t dare to say, you left
You left us Dear Leader, they say
I feel all papers lie, all news is fake
I see, masses weep, wailing so deep
My hands shivered holding my pen
Crying for the lone cry in the wilderness
I, let not my tears roll out of eyeballs
Better seep in heart, nourish your love.

Your never died, and you never will
You live in the living of one and all.

© 30/09/2014
Malik Yaseen

 In loving memory of my beloved Leader and religious scholar Molvi Iftikhar Hussain Ansari (Kashmir, India), who left this abode today for a divine and eternal journey.

Details | Obituary Poem | |

Bukowski Contest

I watched the blood flow
poetry dripping
coagulating in pools of misery
How could a genius be so careless?
Shaving away our humanity
filtering it through an inebriated brain
Poems in the thousands
orchestrated in the ordinary
Crushing
Truthful
yet not quite right
Genius exacts a toll

Somewhere beyond mirrored ideology
flashes the broken image of man
the smell of whiskey
loose women
one night lays
Lonely is as lonely does

Sticks poked into blind eyes
bones cracking like porcelain vases
adorning the altar of an enigmatic fool
Are we trapped?
Are we idiots?
Do we drink from the well of insignificance?

He sits alone in an empty room
Thinking
Yes Thinking
Until he thinks us out of existance
Yet somehow
Thankfuly
We are still here


Not so Genius

Brilliant none the less. His story is sad but his poetry is riviting.
I enjoyed this contest, facinating person of whom I was not familiar.

Details | Obituary Poem | |

Patriot Guard funeral Escort

Patriot Guard funeral Escort
Loch David Crane
August, 2008

Today is sunny: with three dozen bikes,
some decorated cars,  a pair of trikes,
two dozen Marines: all of the family
and toddlers to set their Daddy free
into the Great Beyond beyond the sky
where loved ones send their veterans who die.
Below our feet the stones give way to grass
where they are neatly trimmed; and as we pass
the names of strangers stare into the air
and we look back, wondering who lies there.
I won't step on a grave--I'll walk around
so not to insult those within the ground.
	We ride at funerals honoring those vets,
	brave men and women we have never met.

Details | Obituary Poem | |

Black Blood

Your blood it boils 
with the curse of oil
The backs of black
Their curse to toil. 

The legs you wear 
Covered in blood forever
And covered in gold 
that can never get old
as it stays forever in a trash heap
But as you sow so shall you reap

Look to the sky
See the black? 
It is that which you are scared to lack
The snow pounding your face 
You so obsessed with race
How is it? That wonderful taste. 
The cold, hot, and extreme all due to you! 

Your car is gone, buried in the snow. 
The stock market, it has been laid low. 
The beach town now under water town. 
Lawns in phoenix disappeared with Thirst.
As the fake city goes back under Earth. 

Look down, to the ground
See your desk? See the black?
It is that which you are scared to lack. 
The Earth it eats your room 
filled with toys of conquest. 
How is it? To actually need? 
Too bad, because this is all due to your greed! 

Your world it boils
with the curse of oil 
The backs of now 
Their curse to pay 
For what they took away.

Details | Obituary Poem | |

If Old Men Fought

An old man looking out his door,
gaze fixed on a distant shore,
reminiscing to a time, not of happiness,
or, the prospect of a bright future,
to when he was sick to his very core,
to when as a youth, he went to war

A time before infallibility had meaning,
patriotism and bravado the craze,
the future was still unknown,
vigor for life at its all time high,
a time for romance, partying, buying,
no thought of pain, deformity, dying

Too young to understand or question,
ship to foreign shore, medals abound,
will impress the girls next time in town,
sacrifice not temporary,
forever more,
a legacy etched into a wall, few will remember,
flesh shredded, burned, torn,
families mourn

A time, when he willingly went to war,
will happen no more,
all lost in youth, now unrelenting,
no blind obedience,
minimal risk,
long life, his number one ambition

As he turns back from the door,
he thinks of the youth,
here now, soon no more,
lessons never learned,
the call to war,
to common the roar,
complacency the mood,
another generation removed

The old man agonizes
over what was originally not known,
war is preventable,
life too precious to waste,
the solution simple,
his vision, maybe too late

Send old men to the front to fight,
arthritis, heart disease, poor eyesight,
let the youth enjoy their life,
his near over, its only right

Send old men, to the front, to fight
ask them to give up their life,
patriotism and bravado, still alive,
will and desire would not last the night,
old men do not rush to death in their twilight,
failure inevitable, the old man smiles,
knows he's right

Wars not possible,
if old men, are sent to fight

Details | Obituary Poem | |

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 | Obituary Poem | |

Madiba's Candle, Always Alight - Tribute to Nelson Mandela

Today the sun rose
Over a doleful earth
Our hero, uTata Madiba,
Whose life has given us worth,
Has now set sail
For a realm beyond our reach
And now imprinted in mind
His every word and belief

A soul that cared
So deeply for humanity
Whose humility would dismiss
All traces of vanity
He strongly loved
Every being of every race
And fought for his land
With sincerity and grace

We thank you for the faith
For the freedom you instilled
For 95 years of dedication,
A life mission fulfilled
So rest dear one
And let your spirit soar
And my we embrace your ideals
More conscientious than before

Today we light a candle
To unite the flame you've sparked
May you easily find your way
On this new journey that you embark
May we all adapt your vision
And view a stone as a precious pearl
And may your name live on for lifetimes
As the man who changed the world

Details | Obituary Poem | |

Lords Of The Prairies - An Epitaph : A Tribute To The Bison

Dressed in my shaggy brown coat
I stand nearly six feet
at my shoulders
and weigh almost a ton
My brethren and I 
once roamed the prairies
in herds of millions
grazing on its grass
which fed and nourished us
for tens of thousands of years

Running at speeds of 
over thirty five miles per hour
across the prairies
in herds that stretched
as far as the eye could see
our hooves created 
a thunderous sound
that shook the earth
causing it to tremble
like an earthquake

When packs of wolves attacked us
we surrounded our calves
kept our heads down
flashed our horns
and charged them
to fight them off 
At times though 
we were not able
to save our young
our old and ill brethren
when they were separated
from the protection
of the herd

The redskins were 
the only human beings
we knew at that time
Though they hunted us
with bows and arrows
to feed themselves
and to satisfy their desire
for shelter and other needs
they did not waste 
any part of our bodies 
They respected us
and we respected them
We lived in harmony
for thousands of years

It was the advent
of the whiteskins
that initiated our decimation
They brought in large
four-legged creatures
that could keep up with
and even outrun us
The redskins realized this
tamed those creatures
sat on their backs
and hunted us
using their bows and arrows
like they did before
They killed more of us
but again they took only
as much as they needed
and did not waste 
any part of our bodies
so we continued to
co-exist in harmony

It was that long mysterious stick
that the whiteskins brought in 
that triggered our demise
From a great distance
it made a loud noise
and something hit us
that we could not see
but it inflicted severe
pain and agony
Some of us fell to the ground
and died quickly
while others struggled
but were injured so badly
that they died soon after
We were helpless against 
this long mysterious stick

We were slaughtered
in our millions
They left our dead bodies
to rot and decay
where we fell
Sometimes they took away our coats
Other times they cut out
our tongues only 
and left the rest 
of our dead bodies
to putrefy and decay
on the prairie grasslands
that we had trod on proudly 
for thousands of years

This is my epitaph
for I just saw the glint
of the sunlight
on the long mysterious stick
heard its thunder
and felt something
go deep into my insides
as I fall to the ground
I am on way to meet 
my proud ancestors
who once roamed 
these lands in freedom as
Lords Of The Prairies 



Details | Obituary Poem | |

The End

The End

When it comes our time to be laid underground
Our voices now silent...we utter no sound

Our minds stop working and our thoughts disappear
We've finally ended those life living years

Some souls go up..some souls go down
Our bodies remain..six feet underground

We're thought of often from friends true and strong
After days turn to months some forget we are gone

So when you look in the mirror each morning think this
After a while you'll no longer exist

So grab life by the horns and enjoy each day
And if it's possible try to keep the grim reaper at bay

Love your wife your children and all of your friends 
Your cousins your brothers ..all of your kin

And remember this..... Someday you'll be gone
So never live your life sad and alone

Smile each morning and throughout the day
Your time here is short...the days fade away

Enjoy your life... while it's yours to keep
Until the time comes for everlasting sleep.

Details | Obituary Poem | |

Remembering Uncle Jimmy

I remember your smile that twinkle in your eye,
you could make us laugh until we would cry.
Fishing and crabbing trips and your love of the sea,
all of these are now a part of me.
Whenever someone called you were always there,
a heart of gold you always cared.
Now you're playing cards up in the sky,
forgive me if a tear comes to my eye.
Remembering all the things we would do,
Uncle Jimmy I will never forget you.


JSergi

Details | Obituary Poem | |

Summertime Re-Lyric

Summertime…and the livin’ is easy,                                                
Flowers growin’ and the sun’s sittin’ high.                                    
Your Daddy’s rich and your Momma’s so good lookin’;               
So hush, pretty baby…you got no reason to cry. 

One of these days, you’re gonna rise up smilin’.
Take a look around and think you’ve got it all.
You’ve got your Momma’s looks, all your Daddy’s money,
And all the boys in town are at your beck and call.

Summertime…and the livin’ is so easy,
Laughin’, singin’, havin’ so much fun.
No time to stop and think about your future
And what life will bring when your Summer’s  done.

‘Cause Summertime, it don’t last forever.
Breezes cool and the leaves begin to fall;
And in your quiet moments, you sit and wonder
How you've come so far, but have no love at all.

Yes, Summertime…and the livin’ was so easy; 
Ain’t it sad how fast the good times fly; 
And now your Momma’s looks and all your Daddy’s money
Another sweet, warm Summer’s day they cannot buy. 

Details | Obituary Poem | |

WHERE IS OKONKWO




Where birds are two
We ask:where is the eagle?
Where trees are two
We ask: where is iroko?
Where men become two
We ask: where is Okonkwo?


Gut in the forest of Titans
He roared in the jungle and
Frightened those in the streets;
He stood the wrath of a tiger:
Made morsel of his gut
And status-jacket of its skin
Since then he wore not goat's skin
His was tiger's batik.


Because of fight,he rested his head on pestles
Because of fear,he knitted his heart with cables;
In battle, he killed in dozens;at home,
He marched on dozen fowls
If we did not see him in battle field
Did we not see him at home?


When fear was wild
With its tongue of flame and fangs of blood
Only Okonkwo stood,stood akimbo and spat:
Which chick eats beads like beans?
Which puppy eats elephant's scapula?
Which demon stands Chinua Achebe?
When woodpecker pecks trees
Does it also peck plantain tree?



Okonkwo! Okonkwo!!
When thunder strikes,
Its honour is certain:
Songo king of pebbles
Masqurade in war front
He that we could not confront
And lobbied the bully to wrestle
But made the bully's skull his cup
Man of brawn, man of brain.


Where is Okonkwo?
Big Iroko that blunted axes
Where is Okonkwo?
Bellows that spat fire and melted metal;
I say where is Okonkwo?
Sheath that swallowed sword
And locked out its handle




For Chinua Achebe ,the author of : Things Fall Apart.

Details | Obituary Poem | |

Vincent

The following is a tribute to Vincent Van Gogh, the amazing artist who died of his own hand in 1890. He died, tragically alone, and in obvious pain, unrecognized and unappreciated by the people of his day. But, in 1972, a talented young recording artist, Don Mclean, wrote and recorded a beautiful and stirring tribute to the artist, Vincent. The following are the lyrics to the song, featured on the American Pie album. I hope you will appreciate not only the sentiment so beautifully expressed, but the marvelous imagery and flawless poetry. It moves me; I hope it will likewise move you. And now, Vincent:

Starry, starry night,
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.

Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.

Now I understand, what you tried to say to me,
And how you suffered for your sanity,
And how you tried to set them free--
They would not listen, they did not know how,
Perhaps they'll listen now.

Starry, starry night,
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.

Colors changing hue,
Morning fields of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

Now I understand,
What you tired to say to me,
And how you suffered for your sanity,
And how you tried to set them free--
They would not listen, they did not know how,
Perhaps they'll listen now.

For they could not love you,
Though your love was true,
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life as lovers often do,
But I could have told you, Vincent, 
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.

Starry, starry night,
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless heads on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken in the virgin snow.

Now I think I know,
What you tried to say to me,
And how you suffered for your sanity,
And how you tried to set them free--

They would not listen,
They're not listening still...
Perhaps they never will.

~M




Details | Obituary Poem | |

sonnet i

Therein amongst the subtle fall of rain
That drips rhythmically upon leafy green
I hath now a dead love, woefully lain
Like deadened steps on the grave stones serene.

Though mold casts shadows, haunting and subdued— 
As rain's sleek menace cracked youth's lofty tomb—
Black boughs laden with black apathy, nude,
Line this grave yard as would a mother's womb.

These roses are not perfumed in anguish,
Yet, in hesitation, with them I lie
A solitude prepared for relinquish
That with salted derision, hopes to die.

And the meek mourn with ugly, failing grace
As the rain gradually quickens its pace. 

Details | Obituary Poem | |

The English couple

The English Couple
They had a dream the old couple who came
to our hamlet, their dream was a tiny house 
painted white and blue. A kitchen garden they 
had, lettuce and tomatoes, carrots too, and
the gods smiled upon them, but not for long. 
She got bad knees could not bend down,
he had back problem could no longer play golf
or tinker with his car;  their garden became 
a jungle, where weed strangled useful plants. 
back to their own country they flew said to
come back soon, when wellbeing got better.
He died first in his sleep, she followed him into
eternity a month later. Their dream had been 
so modest, white and blue

Details | Obituary Poem | |

An Ode For Zante

I had not long lost Shona (German Shepherd) and was not sure because of my age and disabilities  if I should get another when my daughter spotted an advert .
I thought long and hard and having always since the age of seven  had my own dog
I decided that there were ways around my disability. 

I went to the farm you were born on and met Matthew and your mum Lady.
Matthew suggested we met the 3 puppies left and take them down the fields so I could 
choose. He let you all out and we started off by the time we reached the gate Lady and two pups had run on ahead. I looked at Matthew who had not noticed and said I have be chosen he looked in surprise and said so you have.

Needless to say I took you home and thus began a wonderful relationship you were highly intelligent  I remember the first time you saw TV you were glued to the screen. We started obedience classes when you were 6 months old and soon you were in the top class. I quickly learnt when a new challenge or lesson was started to hang back and let you watch. Then when it was your turn you went out and did it nearly perfectly and always nailed it on your second attempt. 

You had a yellow squeaky dog toy that you liked to live just outside the door and you would nuzzle it  going in and out. One day my daughter said to me Zante thinks it her puppy doesn't  she I said yes, then my daughter told me she had thrown it for her and that  she went mental checking it was not hurt.

I knew you longed to be a mum so when you were two you went to a good dog and
in time produced nine fine puppies you were so happy and a wonderful mum. 
I with your agreement moved yellow squeaky dog to the kitchen window sill.

When the day came for them to go as each one left you lay crying softly by the back
gate and I joined you shedding my own tears.

Two years later after some notable wins in the ring by you and your daughter
Tanganyika you again became a mum to 8 fine pups. Tanganyika did not understand
why you growled and sent her away. You finally allowed her to meet them at around 
4 weeks. This time we kept two a dog and a b**ch, still we both cried when parting time came.

I did not know we were on borrowed time and that a year later at only six and half years you developed very aggressive cancer and faded in under 3 weeks I held you here at home while you tried to stand to say hello to the vet you could not get up, 
the cancer had sapped your strength. 

I cried buckets as we said good bye and you slipped of to peace and heaven
I buried you at home with your yellow squeaky dog that still squeaked and your
favourite blanket. There is an uncarved stone marking the spot in your favourite
corner of the garden.

I still miss you so much as does Tanganyika who went on the following spring on win 3rd at Cruft's 2010 you would have been so proud.

Zante you stole my heart and gave me a new leash on life You will always live 
in my heart YOU WERE THE BEST 2003 -2009

Details | Obituary Poem | |

Bitter Endings

You are dead now and I am sorry,
For all of the things you thought I should have been,
For all of the things you wanted me to be for you,
I hope that you feel your burden of life is lifted,
And shared by a circle of angels.

For you were once a kind lady,
Fun and laughter were your glow,
A proud and caring grandmother,
Funny stories- I remember, 
The only person I knew who ate egg and chips on Christmas Day,
And wore bright colors in her hair.

You sat by my dog and held his head whilst he died,
Because we were far away, 
You spoke kindly of me once,
Made me believe I was beautiful,
I know you loved music and a pint of lager in your hand,
And your Welsh accent rang out at many a merry gathering.

Yet even though you are gone,
I cannot pretend it was all happy memories,
It would be a lie and I won’t tell it,
Just because I’m sorry you are dead.

You were often cruel,
You humiliated the ones I love dearly,
Expected our lives to fit perfectly with yours,
You lost many who loved you,
Pushed them away and made them feel small.

But I forgive you because I know,
That your unkindness came from an unhappy place inside of you,
And you suffered greatly for it at the end,
I hope you can forgive yourself,
For refusing to be loved and healed.

I hope you find the peace you wanted,
Wherever you may be now,
I hope the world turns how you wish it to,
Now that you have left it far behind.

Most of all I hope,
That your soul can move beyond all of the bitter endings you created,
And find love and kindness once more,
So that we can remember you fondly and talk of you gladly. 

Details | Obituary Poem | |

Times' Wall

Adding to the eons past, its’ content there to swell
Are the names of friend and foe, whose names we’ve known quite well.

There upon the Halls of Time, those names are etched so deep
As silent, lonely sentinels which eternity shall keep.

The clock will tick ‘til someday hence – a day we know not when
Our name is called and then installed as our recompense

For all we were, or would have been, reduced by that one call
To just another name … etched upon Times’ Wall. 

Details | Obituary Poem | |

Immortal - A Tribute to the life and voice of Dr Maya Angelou - Part I

As the life and voice of Dr. Maya Angelou were profoundly deep and moving, I hope you will find this grateful tribute to her to be fitting. As it is too long to be posted here, you can find it at


http://www.gopoem.com/immortal-a-poetic-tribute-to-dr-maya-angelou-april-4-1928-forever/

Or, Read it in parts I and II:

Part I:

The name woke me up - sat me up in my bed...
"Maya", the name my voice called out...
As I sat there in the dark, listening...
As I had so many times before...
Wondering at the "whys" and "how - tos" of my impossible dreams.

And as the dark, so was the divide -
That place in me, between what I was,
And the Why and Who I wanted to be...
But always, her voice, that voice named "Maya",
Had called across the divide as a still and steady light.

That unbreakable, unshakable, steady light...
I wondered where it was now, with blinking, thinking eyes.
Had it vanished? Was it vanquished? Could I once again rise -
In the dark staring dead at me... daring me to rise...
I felt hopeless, lost back in the divide… now growing ever and ever wide.

What happens now - my question?  A miracle now, an answer - indeed...
For through the dark, that voice named "Maya" whispered...
Whispered into me... sounding a new song's drumbeat creed...
"You", the whispering voice whispered..."You, child - Now, You"...
And my feet were suddenly planted, planted bravely on the ground.

And I stood tall and strong, stepping peacefully forward, twirling round,
For the dark no longer stared at me, but I stared into it...
It no longer owned me... but instead, I commanded it,
By a path so still and steady - and now, so brightly lit:
The light I had strained to see was now the miracle shining from inside of me.

My divide... was now, somehow... unified.
And again the whispering voice came: "Yes child - Yes - I speak your name…
I have come and gone so very far, borne witness to it - 
Have delivered a gift to you all - and you were born to use it.
Share it... wear it... and to the dark - dare it - with that unbreakable, unshakable light.”

“Be a voice for all seasons - make some noise for all the reasons,
The downtrodden have to hope for, that the world would grasp and grope for…
Be my voice Now… as I have been yours… a brilliant spirit, not a wandering ghost…
Make your choice, Now - Decide - to be Identified…
To see and live your unbreakable, unshakable, unstoppable dreams.”

Continued i Part II


Details | Obituary Poem | |

Machiavelli

Machiavelli  s'been stewing 
teardrops in the Soup

Stooping to new lows 
for SYMPATHY 
stirring chickens in the coop

Seems some folks will do anything 
for what they think is fame
Swiss cheese stories for glory
Lordy! Whaddah' shame!

Reminds me of two classic movies...
"Freddie Lives" and the other is 
"The Crying Game"...
but this one's very unbelievable, it ain't scary,
and it's much
MUCH more lame!~


Details | Obituary Poem | |

A Series Of Disasters



If it's not one thing it's another An unending series of disasters First a flood in the basement then Our ceiling starts dropping plaster Sure'd be nice to go through a day Just lazing around in the sun Dreamin' bout ice cream sundaes Instead of things coming undone Is there ever a single moment When things go totally smooth When hassles are nonexistent And good vibes literally ooze Much better than the alternative I really do have to admit Kinda stuffy in an old pine box With a “good until” limit Think I'm just gonna be thankful For all the good things each day Instead of forever complaining It's a whole lot better that way <3 <3 <3 © Jack Ellison 2014

Details | Obituary Poem | |

The Man Who Spoke in Whispers

(for Jim Ducker)


The growth plundered your voice,
robbing it of tone; you spoke
in well-articulated whispers, inhaling
through that tube thing in your throat.

You shone, in spite of it all.
No self-pity, even near the end,
after years of speaking to us
in breaths the way you did –
yet you had a voice, old friend.

Always the bright guy at the bar,
you brought a twinkle
even to a whisper; a susurrus of wit
would penetrate the tedious tones
of those for whom EastEnders
and the latest from The X Factor
provided fodder for barroom babble.

Struggling to be heard but stubbornly
winning with smiles and quips,
you were never less than sparky
with your crackling one-liners
and the percussion of your Good Advice.

Quite suddenly you died;
thirteen months ago you died.
You would not wish me to reach
for a soppy synonym.
You did not pass away:
you died, you died, you died.

I handled your affairs –
so long ago, it seems;
but time and distance are
such fragile things, and grief
is no respecter of them:
whisper its name
and it will return to you.

Details | Obituary Poem | |

Adrift From Opik-Oort

        ADRIFT FROM OPIK-OORT
Mere evolution to its very core,
this comet Ison spans six billion years
both frigid and forgotten act of war,
escaped out of the Oort and all its fears

Is there a melting place, where it will die
close to our solar light, Thanksgiving Day?
Or is there logic as its flying by,
survival is the core to come in play?

Are swastikas long gone, or put aside
by dreamers to their nucleus of doom
There-in a Texas day, could they not hide
Where all had thought there simply was no room?

What Evil lurks? The shadow tells it all,
Well knowing what is Ison, in snowfall.

The puzzle comes apart deep in the sky;
calls nothing that is concrete to our mind;
as far as we can tell and meets the eye
the reason for the tail's not ours to find.

We stand confused, and only guess at why
the wonder of it all has stilled our voice
did David Korish ever really die?
Was Hitler all worked out, with little choice?

Mount Carmel but a coming of an age
the catostrophic ending of mistake,
what hope is there to ever quell the rage
appeassing what is wrong, for honors sake?

      Is there no sign that's ever flown the sky
       or is it Ison where we choose to die?
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

Details | Obituary Poem | |

Bike to Work day: escorting the funeral of Marine Albrak Omar

Bike to Work day:  escorting the funeral of Marine Albrak Omar
Loch David Crane
Patriot Guard Riders
September 2009

No more classes now that I've been fired!
Patriotism is my job: I’m retired.
The Patriot Guard rides almost every day
to bring a flapping flag line on display.
We ride to work with combustion and chrome
to bring the bodies of our brave troops home.
In a strange twist for love of our country
This Arab Albrak was a volunteer
who gave America his youthful years
to make Iraqui people finally free.
He gave his life:  I give my afternoon
remembering our heroes at high noon.
	Packed in ice, he came home to his Mom;
	his body was prepared by an Imam. 

Details | Obituary Poem | |

SHE IS STILL THERE WITH YOU

In Ecclesiastes Chapter 3 it lets us know under the sun there is a time for everything,
 a time to dance, a time to sing,
 a time to mourn, a time to cry,
 a time to live, there is even a time that it’s ok to question why? 
Why Lord did you take her? Why did she have to go away? 
Why when we loved her and needed her, why couldn’t she stay?
 And if you listen to the small still voice as he whispers in your ear,
 I believe these are the words that you might hear….
My child you love her but I love her too, and you may not believe this but Heaven needed her much more then you can see,
she has a place prepared for her here with me, 
she is my special angel ,  she still has a works to do, and her earthly body just wouldn’t sustain,
it was causing her so much hardship and pain, 
It hurt me to see my daughter that way and it left you open for hell brimstone fire and rain, 
so I intervened seeing you needed the protection guidance and love that she gave you so good while she was able to fight, 
I had to! The pain in her flesh was keeping her from doing the job right! 
So I done a works when I called her home not just for her, but for you too, 
You see my dear child she is the guardian Angel that I have appointed to you, 
now she hurts no more, yet she is still there to protect, guide, and nourish you, 
so don’t worry she is not far from you, 
right now you may not believe me, 
but in days to come it will become clear and you will see, 
for Heaven has its angel back, her mansion she has claimed, 
and when the wind blows you will hear her calling your name, 
you will feel her showering you with love in the midst of the rain, 
and you will even feel the warmth of her embrace,
as the sun makes its way thru the clouds and shines upon your face, 
when all of this comes to pass then you will understand and know that my words are true, 
when I say she has not left….. She is still there with you!

										Wbmjr432014@113pm
									Dedicated to Marjorie Black our Angel!