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Best Obituary Poems

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Obituary of Loved Lucinda Cayton Price by Cayton, Cindy
Ten Word Obituary by hunter, misty
Epitaph Eulogy BY Linda Blair News Flash OBITUARY by Atfield, William J. Jr.
Obituary-Remembering my Dad by UNDERTAKER, POET.
Miss Alma's Obituary by Konos, Judy
AN OBITUARY by chakrapany, jayachandran
obituary blues by delapruch, andrew
Obituary of the Mastodons by Logan-Cooney, Nathan
Obituary Poem by Moore, Kimberly
Obituary and career-w by Mehta, Dr.Ram

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The Best Obituary Poems

Details | Obituary Poem | |

Secret of the Mortician

The Secret of the Mortician

Dead, but I got eyes
Prepares my body at the morgue
Opens the chest
Drains the blood from its nudity
Admires my body before it decays

After The process of embalming
His hands run all over
I'm still dead
He's satisfied

The next day 
Writes an outstanding obituary 
I sit on display

~SKAT~

More great poems below...


Details | Obituary Poem | |

Corey Fazel

Koorosh the Great, Friend

All of my heart
One tear
Or one Monsoon
No amount, no grandeur
Can express the sorrow
Oh yes, I am sad, I am saddened
I am in sorrow
I am swimming in the darkness
I am missing something
That can not be said in words

Koorosh the great was a prophecy
For only now have we seen
The truth of greatness
Not by Victory, but by kindness
We are blessed to have seen
How simple life can be
Love your life
Your family
Your friends
Bring everyone laughter
Create, envision and dream
Everyone who knows you feels special
Your father taught you well
Kindness that transcended generations
In the end
A humble man
No god could make him bitter
He was as he always was and more
A kind man

Only when you remove a tree from the garden
Do you realize
The tree was the garden
The flowers bloomed for the tree
The people sought shade and comfort

Quietly, I weep
For him
For his family
For life

If all great leaders followed his path
What a beautiful world we would have
He inspired 
He smiled
Corey, you are missed


Notes: Dedicated to my friend Corey Fazel who just recently passed away before his time. Corey, you will be missed by many many people. It is you with your friendly pertinence that got me to swim, and that alone has changed my life, I will remember the many evenings and dinners we talked about all things under the sun.

MSA is Multiple System Atrophy, a terrible and debilitating disease that attacks the nervous system. It has many of the symptoms of Parkinson, however from onset one has very few years of life left.

Details | Obituary Poem | |

I Found a Girlfriend

Took me the breath of all my life
A soul mate who could consume my heart wither a smile
I found that Gothic girl after dark
A little to late to consummate
I lie in waiting with a dead round smile
Empty eyes and a lot of guile
I found a girlfriend even if late
We lie together
Frigid is our state

Details | Obituary Poem | |

Grey Skies are Raining Poets

Is this a poem?
I will let poets decide
I read here, words and prose
How is it possible
Such ingenuity, over and over
Inspirations
Expressions of the heart
Kindness exposed
Bitterness sits in the cold
Storytellers
Poetic wisdom's
Lovers shedding words
Lost souls attacking verbs
Poets in mourning
Deep and emotional losses
Opening the gates of heaven
For the bereaved and forlorn
Poets dancing
Poets crying
Poets who dance and cry
Add some spiced rum and tears
Poets who ponder why?
Poets who offer comfort
Random words of the charitable order
Poets who cannot compose
Yet they are more poetic
Brutal exposure of the heart
Is poetic in its own right
Painters of poetic verse
Who disperse art like candy
I bow my head
In honor of you all

My last request
When that dark omen of death arrives
There shall be a poetic funeral
I shall write nor speak no more
Of lovers and poets
Drunk with words
You all, hoist some cheer
I wish to be surrounded
With poets
As all of you

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.

More great poems below...


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 | |

Death is not the End

Death is not the end,
For love goes on
And you will find the evidence
Long after I have gone.
The flowers that we planted
Will blossom without end,
You’ll find me in their beauty
As to their needs you tend.
The books we read together,
The laughter in the pages,
Will continue to give pleasure
To you throughout the ages.
So do not mourn my passing
You are not left alone,
You’ll always find me waiting
In the places we have known.
The bond that grew between us
Will not abate with time,
It will go on for always,
I’m yours and you are mine.

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 | |

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 | |

The Constitution of Sadness

Life seemed rather bleak
The grey skies to him did speak
Of a better world
Somewhere, but not here

He was thought of with smiles
Always a good word
A Laugh or two
Who the hell thought, inside was all blue

He dressed up one day
As a gigantic peanut
Of to the circus he did go
Knowing his fate, he paid at the gate

An elephant’s eye lit up
A dessert finally of size
He ate the gigantic peanut
The skies have now turned gaily blue

They say committing suicide is nuts
This irony is that it turned out to be true
The coroner took care, waiting and waiting
At the elephants end, for suicides revenge

As the dark and despondent man quite frankly
Had such a shitty termination
The smell of sadness
Hangs in the air

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 | |

All Lives Matter

Fear is what they clothe them in.
Fear of losing their life because of one mistake.
Fear of losing their life because an officer is having 
a bad day.

Some say it's not racism;
"It's police brutality."
Whatever you call it, I can't 
help but ask "where is humanity?"

Mothers weeping because they're losing their sons.
Teaching them to fight back with silence
but that is no weapon compared to a gun.

Six feet under, leaving families to fight for justice
over their lives.
Societies getting tired of it all-
starting riots and constructing strikes.

How many more time will history repeat itself?
Or are we still writing [his]tory , using coverups
as help?

All lives matter despite of their race.
All lives matter despite their mistakes.

In times such as these justice will demand to be served.
No matter how chaotic, crazy, or obscured.

Life is a gift, one that we should all treasure.
Because all lives matter and we need to protect them;
no matter the measure.

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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

Heretic

    HERETIC
'Tis known you're not all there, all of the time,
but I'm submissive; more than I should be;
though heretic somewhat, 'twould be a crime;
in my belief, you're not more than I see.

My failing in your eyes, 'tis life to me,
my very breath, the only way I know
of reaching you, where-in I wish to be,
my being not all there, I choose from Go.

Please take my hand, and make our journey slow
throughout our way, we'll not believe in time;
'tis but a guage, mere numbers few could know
would bring the end, to life, the constant climb.

And through forever, we'll not hold on Go;
Monopolizing everything we know.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet

Details | Obituary Poem | |

A Visit From Mother

My mother comes to visit me
I always look forward to what will be.
Leaves of red and brown, as it is fall
Her presence here makes me feel small.

I know she loves me, for that is true
“I’ve come to have a talk with you.”
She tells me dad is doing well,
I know she’s happy, I can tell.

She then asks me how I have been
I respond to her with a wide grin.
She talks about my uncle too,
“He always says he misses you.”

She says that she’s been working hard
Taking care of the house, and also the yard.
Silence echoes as leaves fall from the sky
Now it is time to say goodbye.

I call out to her and ask for her to stay
But she lays flowers on my grave and walks away.

Details | Obituary Poem | |

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 | Obituary Poem | |

Interview With The Commander Of A Western Suicide Bomber

We gave thanks
He was blessed from above,
After all, he died doing something he loved..

He flew in, just like they did:
But they invaded, he defended.
They cluster bomb, we behead.
He was good, he was disciplined;
He was no tearaway, he was a good kid.
He was funny, loved his playstation he did.
Oh, what was his name again..? 
You know, it was two weeks' ago,
And as you know
a lot has happened since then..

Details | Obituary Poem | |

I Died in Her Arms Tonight

I fell off a boat
An Octopus caught me in her arms
She took me for dinner

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 | |

The Lonely Army

When wind’s silence 
heralds boundless oblivion
and the trembles of cracked earth
raise the dust of tears
dried by the boundless footfalls
of sallow flesh

When a thread of gold
brings unearthly thought
and the misconception
of suns fallen
drives foolish men to their knees
in unending tremors

An army of one
frees the air from his fingertips
and stays not his opal blade
as it bites the rotted gray necks 
of kings released from their wrongful bliss
by his trembling palms

An army of one
unconstrained by nature’s volume
freed by the sin of his naivety
yet, bound by earth’s oldest secret
as the scarlet sun weeps
its bloodied tears

An army of one
his cloak worn through
by the acid blood of his deception
and his bones stilled; 
the branches of a dying oak
which no longer caress the wind