Ode Grief Poems | Ode Poems About Grief

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Details | Ode |

I Can Only Wish

I buried my boys today
Thirteen wasn't bad enough
What a pain in my heart
It's mine now, gone from them
They suffer no more

More than a hundred years
Barely seen half of that
I can only wish
Brothers to the very end
I can only wish

Love to take my boys out
Take them out all day
Take them to the running field
Run the while away
I can only wish

Love to buy my boat back
Buy it back all day
Wish I had my old boat
Wish I’d fish today
If I could only fish

Copyright © Mike Martin | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |

Ode to the people of Norway

Ode to the people of Norway Strophe O, the darkness has descended on a paradise Of Norway’s bounties of nature On the people living a quiet life Not concerned about the politics ever A drug addict, calling himself a warrior Taking pride of being a savior of Europe Unmindful of the death toll of the young Rejoicing in the tears falling from their eyes A Hitler has raised his ugly head up Polluting the minds of the old and the young. Antistrophe But trying to take a refuge to insanity Taking drugs to make himself efficient and awake Priding over to start war for years sixty Pleading not guilty to terrorism namesake Though confessing to bombing and rampage But remaining unaffected by what happened Thus his plea assures him of future court hearings By the attacks Norway is riveted with rage By Breivik’s paranoid writings stunned Hundreds thronged the courthouse proceedings. Epode With tears in their eyes people paid homage To the victims laying roses a few feet deep While the killer faces 21 years in prison The stiffest sentence can be given by a Norwegian judge His lawyer says the whole case suggests his client is insane The Royal couple consoled people and tears shed The prime minister called it a national tragedy And summed it up “evil can never defeat a nation” The killer may enjoy Halden, the luxurious jail in the world Where cells have flat TV and designer furniture facility.
+++++++++ * I wrote this poem two years back when the tragedy took place. Not posted anywhere Date 4-11-13 Dr. Ram Mehta Tenth Place win Contest: Ode (Old/new) poetry by SKAT Love

Copyright © Dr.Ram Mehta | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |

My Son

As a tear runs down my cheek
the world might see me as weak.
But a pain that has no end
devours me day and night
until I feel spent,
useless, a candle without light.

Could I have done more?
Why didn't I dig to the core?
If only I made that last call
maybe I would have seen
his ultimate brick wall
How different things could have been.

But now is the hour to let go
Time to fight my own foe
allow him the peace and rest
Only has he forgone me
His sun setting in the west
a short while before my own will be.

Copyright © JP Hugo | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |

To My Rapist

           Fragment images illumined
                  A hostile sight of no mercy
           Found no escape, I was destined
                  A scheme of darkest scenery
                          Entrapped with hugs and kisses - sour
                          A final dot of final hour.

            If you have mercy set me free
                   Still a captive of disgrace
            A minor holding no degree
                    You wasted with a proudly face
                           How could you close the door and left me?
                           Thinking okay, ignoring my plea

             What a view to see you dying
                     A soulful music to my ears
              Is it really satisfying
                     When dignity's stolen with fears?
                            My life has been a poor attempt
                            To live away with your contempt.

Copyright © Arden Gopela | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |

A Requiem And A Love


And I knew before I met him,
That he would be the only one for me
And it would become clear a little too late
That our love would only be a story for the ages

I had always imagined how it would feel to be made king in his fortress
To have a foot stool to climb on before I reach the pedestal created for me
By the way he moulded his words like they were meant to become new clay on my body,
How with each syllable he would make fishers of men
Going out to pursue his purpose
Gathering up masses for his works
Then leaving them feeling great and grateful

How tender I imagined his touch to be
Those long thin fingers creating a web around my mortal person,
Like I would be alive forever in his embrace
As if if I curled up slightly more towards his heart,
I would get swallowed by his enigmatic soul
And find myself lost in that labyrinth of a mind
Discovering what it would be like to know the world from a celestial and anointed view
With my legs crossed as if meditating all the wondrous horizons from which his intellect existed
The clefts from whence his whims found solitude and reasoning
And I would discover a new high
Which would make me soar into the clouds
Never returning to the mind set of this earth...

I always got the sense that he became torn between being a good person
And missing out on all the opportunities life had to offer a man as magnificent as him
And in that way, I understood him
And I let him be
More than a figment of my imagination
Even though our first meeting was in death
And we would never nestle our love on a plane as imperfect as this earth
I let these thoughts linger,
And I loved him
And she loved him
And they loved him,
They will always love him.

Written for Clive Mashoko
Some words were taken from the letter by Jackie Kennedy to JFK
May his soul rest in eternal peace, and may he find shelter in the house of the Lord, forever. Amen.

Copyright © Danai Daisy | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |

Ode to Humphrey

The"tail" I have to tell, starts off really sad.
My sweet doggie Murphy died and my heart, it hurt so bad.
Until one day in early spring, I got a call that made my heart sing!
There were some puppies born in Waco, the daddy -Jasper, and mommy- Juneau.
Four little boys, three little girls. But the picture of one boy, made my heart twirl!
So I waited for a week or two, to meet my little puppy-oh so new!
I named him Humphrey, such a handsome boy! He has brought  laughter back and oh what a joy! He's super cute, and very smart. Many would say, he's a work of art!
He's learning new tricks, and how to potty outside. So many rules to learn and abide!
Humphrey is growing so quickly, the puppy breath will soon disappear. He will be an adult in less than a year! Every stage of his life is a blessing from above. I guess that's the true meaning of what we call "puppy love".

Copyright © Meghan Palmer | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |

Ode to Joy Life Brings

                                         Ode to Joy Life Brings.
                                              By: Kitty Jones

The pain the sorrow
I’ll get over tomorrow
Oh what joy life brings.
Here today
Gone tomorrow
In my life there is no sorrow.
I try to be insensitive
To all you’re wants and needs
And when you have an open wound
I try to make you bleed.
What is hope?
What is laughter?
What is happily ever after
The pain the sorrow
I’ll get over tomorrow
Oh what joy life brings.

Copyright © kitty jones | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |

History In A Black Robe

Waves of anticipated distance- cheerfulness and goodwill reasons to part quite enormous reflected in displayed emotions long hugs, passionate waves, incomplete smiles and contact exchanges. Queues and checkpoints, controls and duty free sales all activities winding up in a goodbye From the departure lounge, mothers with their kids walk fathers with uptight faces already anticipating the next business moves children in mental freedom roam and play singles, so direct in focus to the flight entry’s aisle unfortunately it’ll be an irreversible one and an exit with a permanent stamp. A calamity not even the tenders of coincidence anticipated a disaster totally human in occurrence forcing the Germanwings to get broken by a hand unwilling to perish alone. Exposure wasn’t enough to nurture a sense of humanity education was weak to pump water on a soil of love a hundred and fifty lives given to hades without cause or reason, just on a platter of Gold a well calculated crime beats the justification of a psychiatric malfunction resulting to an all-lose situation broken wings, lost lives and broken hearts as once again, history stands still in black robes for us all to say goodbye our friends and adieu to our beloved children

Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |

Soul Death


From hell shrivelled hands and voices in the chilly night make appearance
Hand and voices of evil ugly gory demons
Evil that torments the soul day and night
This is the story of Arusha
Arusha the woman possessed by legion
Legion of demons
Demons of promiscuity and self destruct
Powerful destruct that engages the soul
Her soul is in the grip of the power of darkness
Darkness a sanctum of hell
Oh Arusha how hell has swallowed your soul
Arusha’s soul has become a battle ground
I feel pity for Arusha as she often lets out demonic shrills
Shrills that sends chills down my spine
Remember the evil hands and voices of torment
Its torment called insanity
Insanity without cure
Arusha now is now a companion of cocaine
Cocaine I am sure you know it 
Its Satan’s concoction of dementia
Concoction that destroys the soul men
Men become slaves to the voices and hands of hell
As they seek the thrill of gothic
A potently evil thrill that kills the soul 
Sending the soul to eternal damnation
The story of Arusha ended in suicide
Suicide is a deceptive medicine for tormented souls
I wept for Arusha
Senseless weeping: it was too late
I was mortified when I discovered her lifeless body
A body once full of life
A soul so beautiful
Her soul is now eternally damned
                                             In peace may you rest Arusha

Copyright © felix gbemudu | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic Verse |

Contemporary Ode To A Mother Crying Out To Her Children

In the presence of all to see, her world turns
and runs red with the blood of her children:
Blood flowing like a wandering stream.

The bloated bellies of surviving youth
mock aborted pregnancies of liberty;
and her once luscious breasts now sag
in union with the sinking faces of lost hope.

Lost hope---disappearing like solitary 
ghost smoke of abandoned fires;
abandoned fires---dying in waning time.

Hollowed red eyes of fleeing lovers look backward
onto the wholeness of nothing---smiling death
sitting and waiting on the coming feast.

Though the heartbeat of hope struggles 
through the valleys of shadows of death, she
must yet believed that God has not forgotten her;

Indeed, it’s  yet believed that in the midst of the ethnic genocide
in her Dante-like hell, this wretched mother---clinging to time
and its history---will once again experience the restoration
of her Pan-African unity and great African glory.
A great glory of continental liberation
sown in the brave hearts and liberated minds 
of her children who---scattered throughout her lands
as well as in Diaspora---will eventually bring to fruition.

Remember, wherever you are, Mother Africa is;
and you’re indeed, her liberating children---
Umbilical bound to restore her collective glory.

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |

The silent song in Pere Lachaise

As I crossed the gravel way
Of chemim de la Geurite
Through dead leaves that fell astray
I dodged them in a wild mad spree
As I crossed the gravel way

As I climbed up the granite wall
Thick and cold and high
To the top, feeling small
I slid across the rim
As I climbed up the granite wall

Down the other side I went
Through coins strewn about
Through photos and through flowers spent
I slowly crawled along
And down the other side I went

There were people standing over me
People standing high
People with teary eyes did see
The writing on the wall
As there were people standing over me

And as I headed towards chemim Lebrun
I heard some people sing some old forgotten songs
Holding candles of whitish hue
Lamenting a man called Jim
As I headed towards chemim Lebrun

And as I rested for a while
In my house upon my back
I rested with a blissful smile
At the end of my shiny track
As I rested for a while

Copyright © Daniel Human | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ode |

Six Years

Six years now and the seasons keep changing,

people keep aging, the sun rises and sets, and

your pictures are beginning to grow yellow with age.

She grows tall, brilliant, beautiful, proud – like you.

You would really like her, too; she’s singularly unique,

proudly her own person and with a sense of humor

you would cherish and appreciate.

I hope you look in on her from time to time to nudge

her in the right direction when she’s lost, or to comfort

her in the dead of night when she’s in pain

and just needs comfort.

You’re talked of often and always thought of;

Time will never diminish your impact.

Though time may tarnish your pictures

it shall never diminish the beauty you put in them.

You are eternally young and sorely missed.

Six years or six thousand …

You are with us always.

Copyright © Anthony Amero | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode |


How could I know otherwise 
The beauty of a woman I’ve never seen 
Whose mortality had been claimed by the Reaper
But through the teary eyes of my brother 
Who loved her…

Loves her still
What an amazing blessing 
When death cannot extinguish
The glow of love
When life finds immortality 

In a heart that beats the pulse of love
Fueled by the soul of a woman 
Whose mutual love of her husband
Knows no Earthly bounds
And the passion-filled memories of a man

Continue to embrace the love of his life.

Copyright 2016    Iger Rolyat    All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Iger Rolyat | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode |


Once I knew you
Well, I thought I did
Once we shared something
I thought was big
I played the game 
You got lost
Once was not enough
You needed more
Once was done
I hurt no more

Copyright © Carla Vigneau | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode |

Our Shame

                      An elderly man, so weathered and worn..
                       His body is weak , his eyesight is gone..
                    His mortgage is paid but his taxes are due..
                          How will he pay , he hasn't a clue..
                 His stomach it growls, but the cubbard is bare..
                 Did he live too long, did he not pay his share..

                     An elderly woman, has broken a bone..
                 Her husband has passed and she's all alone..
            With her Medicare cut , she just sits there in pain..
                        Feeling to be a society drain..
             It's her pain and fear, so why should they care..
             Did she live too long, did she not pay her share..

Copyright © Glen Schwartz | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |

Haste Makes Waste Ode to a Cyclist

No matter what I read
No matter what I said
The listener never stirred in bed
To all he just appeared quite dead
Eyes blank and always open
Not a word from him was spoken
Through tubes the young man would be fed
He never blinked
Just stared ahead
What more about him can be said
Two days ago he was to wed
No safety helmet on his head
His girlfriend held him by the waist
His motorbike zoomed off in haste
At break-neck speed they lost their luck
On the right they passed a truck
So what more can we say today
In this state he'll always stay
His lover now has walked away
So young she'll soon foreget the day
Another guy will soon appear
No longer will she shed a tear

Copyright © Gary Kraidman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |

What Lies Beneath

Who am I really?
Lover , sinner , saint?
The outward faces that we show,
are only coats of paint.
Everyone goes about  the expected way,
and plays their little games,
never realizing , that they all spread the pain.
The ones we thought that loved us best,
tell the most vicious lies.
And all the time they hide behind
a mask of perfect smiles.
A world full of glossies , and whitened bright veneers
passing by those they deem less worthy,
and causing them to fear.
Left with wondering what we did,
to make them feel such disdain?
People we once trusted,
now just  turn the other way.
False friends , and broken vessels,
is all there is to say.
Whited sepulchers on the outside,
inside death and decay.

Copyright © Jeanette Woods | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode |

Penelope Alecknavage

Penelope Alecknavage nee perskin whose death aye assay
to comprehend, this son of the late Harriet Harris - 
   November thirteenth 2016 marked her eighty first birthday
if she still lived these last eleven years - instead met crossway
where grim reaper awaited - though my mum sought to delay
futility to accept Pyrrhic outcome - homage pep rally
   thru poetry n essay
writing, and finding cadence of words 
   helps me (with powder milk biscuits) 
   gather courageous foray
   and means to grapple with demise 
   of a loved one, and hence my gray
matter sifts thru childhoods' end, 
   where remembrance of hooray
amidst claque of chattering aunts, cousins, and uncles
   the fuzzy interplay
of Penny racing at dog speed across lawn of family home
   cordoned off via a jackstay
looms in forefront of my mind, 
   vulnerable to grief most people sad - me, oh kay,
reckons cessation of life = equalizer of sorts
   when significant person without breath doth lay
Tom foolery deft hands of motley crue prestidigitation 
   playing game versus sobbing as corpse 
   driven to graveside viz motorway,
where belief at such stark catastrophe - nay
numbness pervades next of kin survivors
   especially when passing occurs pre-holiday,
yet no matter whence one departs 
   bobbing along River Styx to unreachable quay
mourning iz broken with nary sunny and Cher full ray
to warm earth, wind and fire - seeking soul asylum, 
   trying to blink away ill logic cheap trick re: acceptance, 
   but inxs of tears for fears begs scene 2b screenplay
   not hard rocking coldplay accursed reality
   terminal illness ushers helplessness cuz part of ourselves 
   agonizingly rent asunder, which psychic tearaway 
far exceeds any physical pain, and will underlay
the immediate future, which bodes hollow 
   with the sounds of silence
   despite informing musicians or veejay
to lighten moody blue - 
   boot invariably bono fide, green day, 
   Lady gaga emitting beat,
   per the human league (plus the culture club 
   of heart felt village people affiliated with goo goo doll    
   traversing into nirvana) 
   creates clangorous discordant ringing 
   increasing nostalgia for loved one lost before yesterday!

Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

Ode to Ziggy Stardust

It's a space oddity
for all that this came too
for the man who sold the world
should have sold it all to you

Let's dance, for we are heroes
we know there's life on Mars
you our dear modern love
now dance amongst the stars

You were a rebel, rebel starman
Our world gone through changes
ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Your body, your soul exchanges

We know you're still alive
but where are we now?
Maybe next a china girl?
we'll meet again somehow

Copyright © Rachel-erika Henderson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode |

Safeguarding- Open Sea Contest


In the blink of an eye
My world crumbled.
Catastrophe struck my life
Leaving me numb.

My soulmate, my childhood mate,
Whose shoulder I had oft wept on,
Who had remained steadfastly loyal,
Just vanished out of my life.

My soul mate loved sailing,
Always saying, 'The wind, my drifter,
Safer world it always leads me to',
Was defeated in his super adventure on the seas.

My soulmate, true to his name,
Was hard as a rock, forever true,
Eye or heart, what was purer, I know not,
No bone, no flesh, no tatter was traced.

I awakened once again from my reverie,
To realise nothing lasts forever,
We did not meet by chance,
It was pre-destined.

My soulmate, I shall wait till eternity
Till we meet again,
Or please patiently wait till I join you,
To safeguard the pearly gates of heaven.

( Two guards for pearly gates is better company 
and eases the boredom of scanty traffic! )

September 26, 2015
Contest: Open Sea
Sponsor: Chase Trevi

Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |

Dead Love

There across the wind rides my silly pride 
The very sound of my regret voice caresses my bones
Fate never assumes 
As bad luck so fumes 
I never wanna have you
Fantasies of me wrapped up in you are a juxtaposition
"I love you when you touch me like that
I can feel your heart inside me
That ain't nobody's business 
In what I do with you
As long as you love me
The way you do !!!"
All these still fantasies..daydreams in the night!
I really have to tell you what I feel for her
A spiritual official would call it lust
But I don't think it's lust when it lasts
You are a creation that delights my senses 
Let's put our pretense of friendship and allow each other in !
A final glance, "I am ready for you"
Haute couture or haute cuisine,
You are a perfection,..I have to take 'chances '
I am an invisible man.
Try and see me if you can.
Tell me where you want us to meet!
Time can be created
Shy and quiet I remain alone.
Silent is my voice’s tone
I will die embracing this misty cold,..how I atone!
The reason for my unseen being
Lies in the fact I hate being seen.
Especially when I am dying to have someone 
Paranoia they call it
Your answer was a 'yes' which is a form of a 'no'
Duh,..a 'yes-no' or a 'no' that really was a 'yes' huh!
I should say my soul is lost
I thought you were a soulmate
Sadly you had no time to waste
What I mean is, I'm not giving up!
I was going to say something
But I forgot again 
Fantasies blew my mind up again

Copyright © Josemaria Joel | Year Posted 2017