Best Mourning Poems
https://youtu.be/-gDinVAmtA0
Chopin Nocturnes
Listen....autumn rain is gently falling
Within enchanted hour of twilight sky.
In my heart, Chopin is softly calling
Lovely piano notes that make me cry.
As Luna slowly rises in the east
Her soft lambent glow lightly veiled in shrouds,
Taming the spirit of both man and beast
By roaming mesmerizing misty clouds.
My spirit soars within this peaceful scene
Enthralled by every note of Chopin's tune.
Beguiled in nature's calm, I feel serene
As stars appear and mingle with the moon.
This music and enchanted night reveal
New hope my mourning heart will one day heal.
January 13, 2021
Poem of the Day January 14, 2021
Such precious gemstones
Morning dew shines like diamonds
God’s tears from heaven
Written on 18th February 2 days before my father died
Posted 22nd February 2015
lesson one
i wake up alone
for the first time
the silence is deafening
i want to get up
but every fiber in me
is dead weight
i want to call my mother
and ask her how a widow
gets out of bed in the morning
but i won’t do that to her
i will figure it out
i remember how yesterday
i had to run an errand
and the cool breeze
was a reassuring sensation
against my cheek
it felt much like a caress
so i coax myself to get up
and step out onto my balcony
but my body wants nothing to do with it
and won’t move
finally somehow i am up
yearning for that morning caress
i bundle up
to face the november chill
and there it is
around the corner
a sunkiss meets me
my first of many rendezvous
see you tomorrow sweetheart
i love you
you’re beautiful
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology book ~TODAY I LEARN TO BE A WIDOW~ 2020
Read on air by invitation ~ November 25, 2020 'LATE NIGHT WITH THE MIDNIGHT BOMBER'
AP: 2nd place 2025, 2nd place 2025, 2nd place 2020, Front Page Pick 2021
Submitted on January 6, 2021 for contest BATTLE OF MOST ACCLAIMED 2020 POEMS sponsored by JOHN HAMILTON - RANKED 3RD
POTD - November 18, 2020
There it lies, forlorn and tragic,
Christmas, mourning for its magic,
Awaiting on an angel, fair
To tumble, giggling, down the stair,
Bouncing curls of platinum hair ...
(Now as cold as Christmas snow)
Oh, where did my Sweet Angel go?
There it lies. robbed of its mirth,
Christmas, placed deep in the earth,
A chubby cherub, once its joy,
Broken, like her favorite toy,
First kiss lost for "someday's" boy ...
(Covered now, in Christmas snow)
Oh, where did my Sweet Angel go?
There it stands, atop my tree,
A Christmas angel, just as she,
Dressed in pretty peacock plume,
Shining bright to bless the room,
Now, a stark and empty tomb ...
(Soft and white as Christmas snow)
Oh, where did my Sweet Angel go?
There it lies with my bleak heart,
Christmas' spirit, ripped apart,
This same morning, years now gone,
Her little body, still and wan,
'Neath the tree to wait the dawn ...
(Hushed and cold as Christmas snow)
Oh, where did my Sweet Angel go?
Please tell her, God, so she will know ...
This mommy ... LOVES her Angel so.
~ 7th Place ~ in the "The Darker Side Of Christmas" Poetry Contest, Richard Lamoureux, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Writing Challenge, December 2019, I Want Christmas Poems" Poetry Contest, Dear Heart - Wishkobi Ode, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Christmas Mourning" Poetry Contest, P.S. Awtry, Judge & Sponsor.
This year we will remember
Happier times in past months of December
This year we will certainly see
A massive void where you used to be
This year we will sit and stare
At that forlorn and empty chair
This year we will sit and reminisce
You are not here for us to hug and kiss
This year we will definitely see
No gift for you under the Christmas tree
This year we will shed a tear
For dad as you are no longer here
This year we will raise a toast
To our dad who we loved the most
This year will be so difficult for us all
It was the year the Lord did my father call
Poem re titled for:-
Contest: CHRISTMAS MOURNING CONTEST
Sponsor: PS AWTRY
01~07~15
Trickle tender tears - those that take their time
born to bathe and baptize bereavement;
dew drops cling to fragile petals of forlorn feelings ~
aged and alone
sentiments from sorrowful soul slowly seeps
revived in rising rivers of rhythmic release
emptying from eclipsed eyes
in reverberant regrets and reveries ~
retrospective reviews with resilient realism
offered to an overdue oldster oppressed by outliving others -
reflections retrieved and remembrances retained
gifts given from the gravestone-garden of growing grief
watered with wept woebegone wine
cherished with chaste caressing care
memories and mourning ~
hallowed in a harrowed heart
Susan Ashley
March 24, 2018
~ Second Place ~
Contest: Alliteration Poem
Sponsor: Silent One
Season of death kisses in hues,
of gold, auburn and blood red views.
Cold air wraps around like a quilt.
Morbid clouds veil my sun with guilt.
As tears hide within misty dews.
Puffs of ash float in moods of mourning.
Heart sighs as thunder echoes in screams.
Lightning strikes as birds chirp a warning.
Puffs of ash float in moods of mourning,
as last rose wilts with no more forming.
Tears of rain reflect through broken dreams.
Puffs of ash float in moods of mourning.
Heart sighs as thunder echoes in screams.
Haunted eyes hide pain
when all's lost in vain.
My soul yearns for spring,
for joys blue skies bring.
Quintilla - Triolet - Jueju
Nobody can change childhood, it's impossible
Children should feel safe in their own home, unstoppable
Tear down fear, shame, guilt, sorrow, anger and bitterness
Much hurts and must be combated, a hunt for happiness
Free me from tears and pain of mind and soul
When heart breaks and then heals, set the goal ...
17.06.2018
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
When line SIX is a perfect FIX. - Contest
Sponsored: Silent One
2nd place in the contest
I question Adam’s hymn, O’ Holy Night,
while I retreat upstairs on Christmas Eve
comparing his to mine to fill the night:
His was a quill that spilled of quelling leaves,
of grace contrived to save the petty thieves
once hung from twigs composed of disbelief
condemned to hell for causing others grief.
His notes were angels on a snowy plain.
His words were lowing, pure, and eloquent.
His song, when sung, reminds of cleansing rain;
a prayer of praise for God’s embodiment:
For unto us, a Son, the Father sent,
whose death would cleanse the hearts of guilty men
whose path through life was one composed of sin.
And now I question: What’s defined as sin?
Is it to squeeze a heart that’s mostly innocent
and quell the rhythmic joy that beats within?
To steal my child, so pure and eloquent
and lock away my love’s embodiment?
A midnight hurr’cane sent to swell my pain
that leads to mourning Christmas once again?
Mine’s not a song it’s a SCREAM drenched in grief!
Where is MY daughter, god? Why did she leave?
My knees won’t budge for no more than a thief
who threatens damnation unless we believe!
But, there’s a calmness felt on Christmas Eve.
And when I’m back downstairs, it’s by His light
I pen this poem that I need to write.
Date: 11/24/2018
Contest: CHRISTMAS MOURNING
Sponsor: PS Awtry
It's been too long
I'm not going to make it
Much too long
I'm so numb I can't fake it
Will I see you again
Or hear your voice
Calling my name
It's been too long
I've been thinking about you
Much too long
Dreaming of things we would do
Is it my fate to live
Silently mourning
The dread of a heart
It's been too long
Will I ever spread broken wings
Much too long
Even Winter must turn to Spring
I'll never feel the touch of your lips
Never will I hold you
In the arms of a kiss
It's been too long....
Much too long...
Silently Mourning...
Hear the soft coo-cooing that faithful love imparts,
mourning doves, sharing their beating hearts.
On lofty eaves, build nests of winter pine and twigs,
Keeping their eggs close to their breasts.
Oval shaped, snowy white, they hatch and come alive;
A brood grows and will survive.
Plump bodies speckled in gray and black;
Take flight with fanned out tails that reveal a fringe of white.
The warm summer is nearing its’ end, Mourning Doves and fledglings
Together, will ascend; blue skies headed for the border of Mexico.
March 6, 2022
For: Form-I-Imagism – New Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Placed 3rd in contest
Mourning has broken
Mourning has broken...
my spirit and will
Despair I have swallowed...
my bitterest pill
I never imagined...
my soul needed to purge
So with anguish burning...
I compose this dirge
I've had spectral visions...
haunt me in my dreams
Spinning my meditations...
into nightmarish schemes
My pitiful illusions...
scatter in depth of night
Mourning has broken...
darkness conquers daylight
John Derek Hamilton
October 10,2019
You, unfeeling creatures
Who call yourselves human,
You, fleeting bubbles of reason,
Accidental parasites of time,
You, filthy microbes of cancer,
Ephemera of invincible eternity,
You, who try to fill your vanity
With abominable crimes,
You, insensible butchers of animals,
Notorious destroyers of pastures,
You, contaminators of oceans,
Deleterious polluters of rivers,
You, menacing beings of harmony,
Transgressors of universal laws,
You,
Who deliberately have put me through
The tormenting agony of dying
By
Strewing your treacherous dark web of
Your unworthy ambitions, all over my face,
Shadowing my generous fertility and
Rendering me sterile,
Behold,
For the time has come for you
To feel my wrath and my fury
Boiling lava over you
To flow every day,
Kneel,
Your tiny mortal beings
In front of the immortal cosmos,
For the shiny heavy sword of
Universal justice,
Punisher of transgressions, guardians of
The eternal laws,
Over your thoughtless heads to fall
With vengeance and rage
Decapitating the most of you and
Those who would survive
Shall feel the torturing pain in
Their hearts
For
Uncountable years!*
© Demetrios Trifiatis
20 March 2020
* This poem I wrote in 1985 in Montreal, Canada when, as a co-founder of a peace movement, was making efforts to raise conscientiousness for to save mother earth. It was posted here on the 28th of November 2012 with the title:"The Rage of Mother Earth". Now, with minor editing, is re-posted with its original title of 1985: "THE MOURNING OF MOTHER EARTH." THIS IS A STERN WARNING TO ALL OF US WHO DESTROY HER: REMEMBER NOT MUCH TIME IS LEFT TO SAVE OUR PLANET AND OURSELVES!
When onyx skies bleed
rhinestones etched in regrets,
follow the silence;
Unsung sonatas
cradling watercolor spells
woven with magic—
from violet blaze,
beneath mulberry gloaming,
where dark poets rhyme.
But when summer rain
falls upon metal steel hearts
in cashmere cadence,
Listen to the breeze
swirling sunflower secrets
of forlorn fervor.
Amidst lavender
longings for pearlescent bliss
on glistening vines.
For even chained doves
think in dulcet runes that glow,
drawing moonlit dusks
Whilst saffron sunsets
with electric quills of faith
release healing ink.
But can scribbles veil
fog of doubt, when astral signs
mislead the naive?
Is "trust" a lost star
waning in a labyrinth
of mourning roses?
and "hope" a myth of dreamers?
“When trust is a walking phantom,
draped in dying dandelions,
let the wind blast forth its shattered promises,
as rain rinses away piercing pain of memories lost” Quote by Poet
the sky is a catacomb
of faceless promises and ghosts
clothed in tangled treachery
as trust is a wilted tulip~
embalmed in golden tears…
O’ deceived heart of the eclipsed sun
you were once glazed in jewels…
now a mourning mausoleum~
chanting a moonless requiem
resting in ashes of skeletal lies….