Violence Funeral Poems | Violence Poems About Funeral

These Violence Funeral poems are examples of Violence poems about Funeral. These are the best examples of Violence Funeral poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |

Slouching Toward Ferguson

His life was gentle, and the elements
so mixed in him that Nature might stand up and

bodies in unregistered cars idling softly toward oblivion

some quick to anger
some quick to profit
some quick for justice
some tigers lapping blood
some mothers still at 3AM

hands on shoulders with coos commanding
that in a tear and turned cheek there be 'integration'

parody: an orphan annie reboot
parody: 'little black sambo 'round the tiger pit he go!'

we have rioted the last of our colors
bleated them with flexed toes to the wall at the edge of the universe to reverberate starless between
and madness

we have bleated the last of our colors
with centuries gone by without tongue, sockets or lobes

we will bleed the last of our colors
some quick to die
some quick to steal
some quick to burn
some quick to 

lend me your car keys

in a night of full of Alarics
I will bury you

in a night full of piccaninnies
I will melt you to butter

in a night where flames are fishhooks
Sir I need you to step back please

O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
we have cried Havoc
let slip
and with purple'd prose stamped this hollowed earth

We who have lived so long
shall with our breath turned mist
I need you to
stain only under stones
that pave with slippery breath
a headline for last weeks massacre
and tomorrow's graves
I need you to
I drew a line in the sand and you crossed it They are not breathing
Look! Look there!
No. I will not.
He dies

Copyright © Brooks Lindberg | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

The Undyings' Curse

Deep in the earth, a crypt of rock
slumber guarded by casket locked
Lips grope silence ‘ever more
 rasping thought, remembers whispered lore
Outstretched palms the roots do clench
tranquility stilled by festered stench
And eyes, sleep caked, are propped ajar
ignites no life, but collapsed star

Burned blades sigh, Winds’ dying gasp
bones brittle snap within her clasp
A lonesome howl the moon does draw
vigil broken, it twists its maw 
Upon an arena of endless stone
the granite gates they’ve passed alone
And entered a world of burning eyes
eluded the judge of smoldering cries

A faultless gait, no stumbled draw
a reaping brought  by scythe and claw
Opal edge which shrouds a cause
aberrant blade shapes nature’s laws
Dictate a script, the stars can share
an open secret, a language bare
Steps continue, feet are drawn
across gray grass, undying pawn

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy |

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
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.

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Dear Dad

Dear Dad 				
Why don’t you love me? 
The small brown eyed girl asked her father as he beat her at night,
 then with a smile in the morning he’d scoop her up in his arms to play.
Why don’t you love me? 
The bigger brown eyed girl asked her father as he walked out and
never came back.
Why don’t you love me? 
The young brown eyed girl asked her boyfriend of two years,
As he walked out the same door her father did eight years before.
Never to return.
Why didn’t you love me?
The older brown eyed girl asked her father at his funeral.
As she leaned over the edge of his casket and kissed him gently on the forehead,
Tears running down her cheeks.
Why couldn’t you love me? 
The oldest brown eyed girl asked as she lays Jasmine’s and roses
On her father’s grave.
Only a row down from her old boyfriend’s,
With love that never dies.
And her question is answered in the wind, 
As the answer is whispered in her heart.
How could you love me?
If you couldn’t love yourself?

Copyright © Jazmine Russell | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Domestic Violence Sin

Fright washes through my tiny veins He's drunk and driving in opposite lanes Scared for my life, he enters my complex Because of something he blew out of context So alone in my house with locked windows and doors Scared for 4 1/2 years because of his roars Trying to break in because he knew I was there Feeling my anger and fright begin to flare Locked in my bathroom --- police on the phone Feeling my insides go heavier as my heart turns to stone Dispatch says to keep inside and wait for the Law Breaking my heart, soul, and love as it goes raw The Law arrived and saw him and the others outside For 4 1/2 years inside of him I did confide He raised his fists and almost killed me more than twice But on his wrists and arms --- he always made a slice Crazy and deranged and scared for my life 4 1/2 years of bloody pain and strife Controlled and scared I shake in my bed Because one day I feel like I'll be dead Either I leave or he leaves my state It's the best way to leave him behind and my would-of-been-fate Threatening my family and all of my friends Tired of waiting for him to kill me --- where is my end? Today was a common nightmare like always before My mind, body, and soul go sore So now he's gone and the Law won again And again I am alone to live in this Domestic Violence Sin

Copyright © Sheryl Lynn Knoles | Year Posted 2011

Details | Blank verse |

funeral calls

Within the sketch of a house top my hair laid.
In bewilderment on the street I saw a disarrayed
feet for the clarion's call.
Not in honour of a man in metallic monster for life
restore or death gain.
Nor the second coming could uplift anxiety for our
bones to lay in waste.
Behold him coming, making his parts straight.
in whose shoulder our liberation do glory.
In adoration and praise we gave you our hearts but
chief whip you've ordained on us.
The glory of our womb you're turning to serpent for
hope of your households.
Beast, beast is your name.
Every four years you've ordained to atone our
gluttons in carting away our fortunes.
Be it far from you that our heads live in debt to your
Our ears are block to the sound of your daily
Our laws are void to the manifestation of your
power but swords they're to the poor.
Our hope do lay to see nail being screw into your
ears sisera.
Our veils will be lifted into human rights activism, 
That Sahara will be a place of snow to you, 
While your Hall of shame Will lunch out soon that
our lost hope is restore.

Copyright © olorunleke olorode | Year Posted 2017