Best Eulogy Poems
He told me to be quiet each time I tried to speak
knowing I'd obey for he believed I was meek
Months went by and I acquiesced to his wishes
until I had enough and started flinging dishes
"Shhh," he said and placed a vile finger to his lips
I had enough of him and put my hands on my hips
"You can't tell me who to talk to. I'll not be quiet
If you think I'll stand for this, go ahead and try it."
He thought I was joking. Well wasn't he the fool?
I won't be used by any man. I'm not any man's tool
He's buried in the backyard in an unmarked grave
I bet now he knows I wasn't going to be his slave
Each night I dress in widow's black and take a walk
Mascara running from tears of joy, I give him a talk
I lay a finger against my lips, then I smile and say,
"Shhh, you know it's your fault you had to go away."
Oh, Lord! Lest one is asleep,
the purge to kill you,yet again,
is quite deep.
Some, who read your word in
the Bible, re-create it, with myths
that are long and deep.
Or, they in arrogance and fervent
ignorance stomp, on your words
as but fairy tales.
They are turning the tables on you,
woking hard to make you a fable!
As in days of Hitler, we who believe,
are shot dead in Temples and churches!
(Then, they blame guns!)
We live in a society in great pain.
Of course, bullets in this society reign!
We are being attacked for any freedom
of speech of you, and are always
besmirched.
We are beaten and called names by lost
soul jerks.
We open businesses but those who hate
your children want all of them shut down.
Because the businesses won't support the
killing of babies.
They torture us wearing their popular~~
'freedom of choice' crowns.
Churches are objects of derision.
You, God, they wrongly surmise is the
source of any division!
Poets here, who write of you, are
mostly passed over as "boring."
Your creations are adored ad infinitum~
They drool, however over their dog,
Rover!
The seas, the birds, the splendor in all
the flowers.
Their poetry glories!
Of these they write and sing for endless
hours.
Of you? Bah, humbug!
Our serenity, our hopes no longer lies in you.
But in politics, poetry, news, movies, booze,
sex-aplenty, self-adoration and calming drugs.
Oh, Lord~ we are so lost!
Have Mercy on us all, I beg!
Panagiota
POTD*. 10/17/2019
Walk with me,
Don't...SHOOT,
cuz I don't wanna die young,
I wanna grow old and have
a daughter or a son, or maybe both,
to live a full life is my hope,
but the bullets in your gun
are a noose around my throat.
Don't....SHOOT,
I promise you I wanna LIVE,
I wanna show the world everything I have to give
and it's a lot, and yea I might smoke a little pot,
but so did Bill Clinton and HE didn't get shot.
Don't....SHOOT,
I got plans for my future,
that don't include a cop saying
stop and let me shoot ya
Don't....SHOOT,
my hands are clearly in the air
I start school next week and I just wanna
make it there.
But you..... SHOT,
and let me die in the streets,
now my people want answers
NO JUSTICE, NO PEACE!
Shattered glass
Broken promises
Loves untied knots
Black roses weaving in summer winds
We all will die, the days are duly marked
In the book of reaping angels
Who till the fields of human decay
Whom take what they can, young or old
Piano keys sound the waltz
Of the oncoming
Shaking fingers and smiles to deny
The raven will have his feast
The death of you is at hand
The death of me was long ago
Yet I still breathe, and you still smile
I am full of tears, you my friend are life
A life to be stolen
As we sit silently
Knowing my hands are as useless as yours
Later smile upon me, and welcome me over
I who have lost long ago
Walks along the shoreline of hell
Alone, no hand to hold
Wishing it could have been me
Out in the middle of a large farmland, I become a girl of old charm and unexpected songs again. Past the flanks where cluttered rows of hyacinths and ferns quiver, disarranged huts begin to shake as the rough wind wheezes. And on this late July, mounds of dust remind me of summers back in my grandfather’s hometown. Yet, a different vanishing overtakes me.
a season passes…
carrying all its flowers
to emerge as buds
11/19/2015
Creative Haibun Contest
For Charlotte Jade Puddifoot
They walk silently along my hallways.
Floors littered with faded finery.
Do you remember my Granduer?
I had once been called the Queen of the sea.
Pulled down to the ocean's floor.
Swaying silently, so many sad souls
They are entombed here
Forever a part of me
Left to wander my halls
Sharing this watery hell
Faces frozen in skeletal grins
Evidence of our eternal sadness
Fish now swim across my stage
The band is silent
Still I remember
I absorbed them note by note
They played till my last moment
Yet it was not for my benefit
For I had betrayed them
My promises were empty
Temptation, travel, time together
Some mercifuly escaped
What did they remember of me?
Some came back in ghostly form
Searching for those I had taken from them
I will not release them
For I do not wish to be alone.
Legs that can’t fly
Heart that can’t love
Lips dry
Kisses under go a rye
I am blind
Only seeing within the past lens
Only holding on to memories
That wont last
Your sweet smile fades away
As I whispered in my deepest of dreams
Now I live inside insane mad thoughts
You have moved on
I am not longer in your way
My love lingered
No more can I sway
Your beauty
My dreams
I have lost directions
Flowers never come in May
Waves’ roll to shore
Angels play in the tempest sea
They know not love was not for me
Blankets keep the royal lovers warm
I left to winters charm
Coldness is my home
Chilled thoughts haunt my very bones
Broken and all alone
Forlorn
Battles yet fought
Over me grave
Besot, tears still drop
Underneath
Poetic flowers bloom
This sad lament…
No ill intent
No wish to be
impertinent
An observation
I must make
On a sad loss
That’s hard to take
She waited so patient, by day or by night
As I scratched my head when I struggled to write
And should I produce a few lines circumspect
She’d broadcast them gladly……. As I recollect
And it wouldn’t matter the time of the day
The moon at its peak or the sun shining gay
For be it a saga or little of note
She’d always find someone to read what I wrote
She never would judge, though my language she checked
And highlight with stars where I’d need to reflect
But judgement was something I never did see
Though sometimes she would say P.O.T.D
This sad lament…
No ill intent
No wish to be
impertinent
An observation
I must make
On a sad loss
That’s hard to take
Why did she do what she did that sad day
Why did she seem like she’d drifted away
Her facelift moved features all over the place
O how I miss her familiar face
But focusing on her appearance is shallow
It wasn’t her fault I’m creatively fallow
Yet when I wrote something that lifted my zeal
I found she’d befriended folk not truly real
Did she not know of their hidden intent
Did she not notice their dishonest bent
Did she grow lonesome as each passing day
Friends who were earnest were drifting away
This sad lament…
No ill intent
No wish to be
impertinent
An observation
I must make
On a sad loss
That’s hard to take
How I recall the debates that we shared
Should it be Christmas… or war been declared
And how we would laugh till our sides became tight
Yeast extract discussed as Tom Cunningham might
I’d even compete just occasionally
And sometimes a win would be handed to me
Alas the pretenders have entered her fold
And our ‘Lady Soup’ now seems sullen and cold
And yet my fond memories that linger still
Live on in hope that she still has the skill
To look once again at the harm that was done
To reclaim true friends… while pretenders… “Do One!”
A whistling wheezing hamlet, whispering and emanating, tunes euphonic,
In a remote isolated valley, far-flung from the abode of the temporal,
Warbling quietly to whistle scads of tranquil cryptic songs;
Lying spasmodic, a sparsely inhabited mellifluous hamlet, Kongthong!
Not to hyperbole, a singing utopia, uncustomary to the core!
Where innate and mellow are the naive dwellers' rustic tinkling timbres!
A rover's riddle, the natives' pride, a unique heritage, their blissful strains!
Ringing with an ancient tradition of tune-giving in honour of the root ancestress,
Customary to the matrilineal surviving unknown folk of the thorp!
The chirping region's dispositions and practices outlandish, vague and obscure,
Primitive and bizarre, mere to merge with nature's absolute accord!
Voices buzzing in whistles, murmuring and chattering, lilting,
Arcane, pervading the virgin thicket of the sacred thorpe!
To entangle, passerby and wanderers in dream like metaphors!
Those magical murmurs in quirky tunes, mingling the breeze of the secluded hamlet, intoning own tinkles!
Blessed are the tuning terrain's offsprings, nameless!
Rared by ditties, hailed sacred by the clan's conviction!
Outlying, by the uninhabited enchanting wilderness of East Khasi Hills,
Sleeping quietly the untrodden, nature's lulling lullaby, the whistling Kongthong!
Yell! Immaculate and serene, the saga of their undeciphered airs, mumbling in exquisite ethos!
Inimitable and gripping to eye, how the denizens of the tribe,
Are crooning to dub and call each other by indigenous intonations!
Pitching and whooshing, to tune their melodic identities unique!
Whew! The picturesque terrain is tweeting, whooping, and whizzing!
Heaven! Bless anomalous nature's absolute pamphlet,
The ringing Kongthong, God's own whistling hamlet!
-Eden's Ending Eulogy-
Proceed here today, Eden's Ending Eulogy
Gentle gracious her garden, the guidance
I can't recall what was with the warm, sincere smile, and sunrise
Lost at ease and clarity.......I Sleep!
Forever In Peace, this dark, damp den, coffin will do
at last, a parting powerful, reunion and resting resort
Amen
~SKAT~
Ask not how did he die
But how did he live,
Not how did he fall
But how did he rise;
Ask not what did he gain
But what did he give,
Not how many
records did he break
But how many
hearts did he mend;
Ask not what was his church
Nor what was his creed,
But did he help the one in need,
Did he care to wipe a tear
And offer a word of cheer,
Did he bring back the smile
And rekindle the spirit meanwhile;
Did he walk
on the path of God
And did not falter
to call His name aloud;
The true measure of a man:
What he is,
Not what he has,
Nor what did his eulogy say,
But how many felt sad
when he passed away?
~Didactic poem contest by Regina Riddle
~11/28/2014
I love Guns
Guns make us safe
Guns are rights and freedoms
The more guns, the more freedoms we shall bear
Every man woman and child should be armed
So that we are all safe
All schools should be armed
Teachers, Principals, Janitors, arm them all
The finally we can relax
in total safety
knowing we are all armed
I say give arms to the amputees too
Gun control is socialist and fascist
We registers cars
Houses
Pets
Bikes
We have banned toys
We regulate all kinds of things
Yet we are free
Totally free
Because we all have our right
To bare arms
Ask Kim Campbell! she agrees!!!
Not only guns
They must be automatics
The more bullets you can empty out of a gun
the better
the more freedom you shall feel
Its called projectile dysfunction
And......... any man with a high IQ
Need's an assault rifle
Why of course to outsmart those ducks and turkeys
I firmly believe in a fair fight
Assault rifles to catch a duck
common sense to me
Quack quack
Guns have rights
Own a gun you have double rights
They are made to kill kill kill
Did I say they KILL?
Nothing more, nothing less
I need that right
Any child killed by a Gun
is only because we haven't enough guns
By the way
Children have no rights
Kill em all for all I care
as long as I have my rights
I am not concerned with facts
Evidence
Or the humanity of it
Is all about my Guns
Why
Cause I love Guns
More than humans
And thats my right
No matter how wrong it is
Life is but a fleeting mist.
What is now, will soon be missed.
Seize the moment, say in words:
God’s greatest to you, was her.
Days of ordinary passing,
Too soon leave for nothing’s lasting.
Take the time to cherish her,
All widowers surely concur.
For when death’s door is finally closed,
No words or sonnets you’ve composed
Can reach the ears that once desired,
Your Love and words to lift; inspire.
Nothing in this world can bring
What you alone have offering.
Make the call, write the letter
Let her know you won’t forget her.
Death’s toll rings and she is gone
A vacuum fills and a fullness drawn.
While you can, express your heart
Before too soon, she will depart.
Professor Abdul Kalam the luminous brilliant star
I pay homage to you from here in Dar
Great brill scientist in the field of Aerospace
A noble man with an intellectual mien and grace
Aeronautics and more were his speciality wow!
He's referred to as India's best known nucleur Scientist.
An inventive mind has passed away now
Lets celebrate and commemorate a great catalyst
He did India proud and did a lot for her
All Indians who know him will concur
Elected as her great President as well
Sad now to bid him adieus and farewell
Yay, the Indian soil has now a brilliant hero in her bosom indeed
I adoringly salute this great man of my race and my creed.
When a scientist dies it is a great loss for us all
May God raise more like him after his inevitable fall
But he can now repose in heaven's lap
On earth though he has left a mighty gap.
God I believe, loves those who utilise His gift of brains
Meditation releases us from earthly fetters and chains
Science and learning works your mind ; the brain needs exercise too
So I thank God for scientists , for scientific minds
That help to illuminate and enlighten this world, for me and you.
Sonny Doyal Roper
October 14, 1943 - August 29, 2018
This poem was written by my husband last month for Victor Carmel Buhagiar with also a rosary he had made with angels as stations , so I decide to add
Angels in Flight
In darkness at day or night I'm never alone
For I have six angels to see me home
Nothing in this world I have to fear
My six angels are always near
When my troubles are hard to bear
My angels are always there
They will guard and watch over me
Until this world I'm ready to leave
And when it's my time to leave this land
They will guide me hand in hand
by Sonny Roper 7/30/2018