Grandfather Death Poems | Examples
These Grandfather Death poems are examples of Death poems about Grandfather. These are the best examples of Death Grandfather poems written by international poets.
After he died, I'm always drinking.
After she died, I'm always smoking.
Because what use is a life worth living
If I cannot numb the grief I am feeling.
After he died, I'm always wondering
What could've been if everything was improving.
After she died, I'm always being
A better person for those worth loving.
After he died, I was always crying
About how he could have gone on living.
After she died, I was always questioning
If the addictions we have are worth anything.
After he died, I wondered why it's worth continuing
The legacy he left behind, but it's not for nothing.
After she died, I wonder if I held any meaning
In her life that was so sadly so fleeting.
After he died, I learned how to keep living
My own life despite my heart's grieving.
After she died, I learned how life has meaning
Even when we feel there is nothing but suffering.
Categories:
cousin, death, grandfather, grief,
Wearing my late grandpa's shoes
As I do what he would never approve,
Because this life is what I choose
As I realize I have nothing to prove.
Categories:
addiction, death, drug, grandfather,
The headlights of a tractor drew my great-grandfather to his death.
Anglerfish of steel, power take-off a maddening buzz –
Was the barn dark? Could he see the terrible twisting machine?
And did he see it, in the instant before the ordeal
The forty days’ hellish road ahead before he reached heaven?
Did the lonesome valley stretch out before him in the gleam of the wrenching clamor,
And did he lean out and see the glow at its end?
Shriek and wail, slam and crunch.
Did the dying man see far?
And would it have been better, after all, to know what would be coming?
From plowshare to fig tree such a divide, better not to know, I think.
Certainly better for my uncle, who found him there.
Categories:
allusion, death, light, violence,
?A grumpy grandpa (from Greece), gruff and gray,
is grazing on a grain of grass, graceful.
He’s grumbling that the grim grave is growing
greater and greedily greeting his grasp.
Categories:
age, death, feelings, grandfather,
In another life, I’ll love you,
For my devotion won't be new.
The time together that we spend,
Will last when we ascend.
So hold me close today,
And let us both together pray:
That as your breath draws thin,
Our love remains forever within.
Categories:
death, emotions, endurance, feelings,
I sit at the foot of your bed while all others pray—
As you fall this dark December night slowly away—
I wish that you be carried by stars of bright heavens light
Showing beyond certainty, you leave this world more right
You are the grandfather; my children deserved,
a gift to them that you have overwhelming served.
I am humbled before you at the foot of your bed,
I'm happy to offer, every, single, tear that I've shed
even more over, I wish my heart was dying instead
So hear this message, I said it clearly before you went on your way
You're the father I chose; over your life, I hope that love, I did convey
Categories:
dad, death, emotions, father,
My father's heart beats beneath the baseboards
of my chest
What scares me isn't the furnace inside it
It isn't all the hate and ignorance
It shuffles on its cane
Buh bump
Buuuuuuh bump
Buhbump
Dragging slowly, out of time
Learned it from his dad,
He told me.
Maybe his uncle
Maybe his brother
Maybe his grandfather
Maybe his sister
Maybe his nephew
"We got weak hearts son" he said
"I found my father holding hands with his and that's how you'll find me, too."
I ran.
I couldn't find him like that.
I put my ear to my son's chest every day.
Categories:
angst, anxiety, death, father,
Three years ago was only yesterday:
at dawn I opened my eyes and the blinds.
Bouquets you'd left before you passed away;
those on my window daily I would find.
From your consideration my sun rose,
my very own, through those petals it shone.
It's hard to grasp in poetry or prose
how all you'd picked has taken root and grown.
Yours is no grave, yet all the gloom is mine
without your daily sunset-imbued gifts.
How am I to place roses on your shrine
if roses after you have gone adrift?
Only remains the warmth that's in those dyes
of moments so surreal they don't die...
R.I.P
Categories:
color, death, flower, grandfather,
When Grandpa died and his clock still ticked,
he fell from a ladder by a tree -
nor could that clock on the wall predict
when I died at age twenty-three.
A traveling artist, who, out of luck,
implored gramps (...how'd he know his name?)
My grandpa was kind. A deal was struck.
Soon his picture was in a frame.
The parlor portrait's eyes would follow
me, conveying every feeling.
Kindness and cheer, I could swallow,
but remonstration sent me reeling.
A frisbee stuck in a tree, so high,
Grandpa said he'd retrieve it for me.
Just hold the ladder, please, small fry?
and that's all that he asked of me.
Nobody knows that story but me.
I sway gently as the wind does blow,
from a branch on that sycamore tree,
but the eyes on the portrait know.
Categories:
art, child, death, grandfather,
Almost fifty-three years ago, I became your grandson.
You died 30 years ago today at the age of seventy-one.
You became sick when a doctor prescribed you some Dilantin.
The allergy ended your life and we would never see you again.
Your death hurt others as well as me.
Your body was in such a bad shape that you had a closed casket ceremony.
The Dilantin was what made your body end up in such a bad shape.
When you perished, almost two hundred people attended your wake.
You lived in Sneedville but passed away in a hospital in Morristown.
It was a sad day thirty years ago when we buried you in the ground.
[Dedicated to Burley R. Johnson (1923-1994) who died 30 years ago today on August 3, 1994]
Categories:
anniversary, death, grandfather,
Look around! in a slow motion
heed the end in the making
everywhere, behold the suffering
in a constancy ascending
Global disasters...
grievous pain delivered
no one's spare from capture
living the birth of a future
Mother's angry
her wrath unleash, overwhelms
the ground we walk on
Look around in a slow motion
for in less than a wink in time
after we refuse to change our ways
will our children be the grandfathers!
of a dying civilization...
expiring in a slow motion!
In this era of me
we're all to blame
Greed and the pursuit of goods
Corruption and fraud rule...
with the beliefthat in brings happiness
when it will bring a faster dimness
No one respect '' Mother''
for no one can be bothered
to aknowledge the slow motion
of a dying civilization
Microy... June 6th 2024
Categories:
conflict, culture, death, earth,
When I go to Heaven someday; my love's spirit shall lead the way.
I want to meet my grandfather in a valley of pink lilies.
I shall embrace my cousin in fields of tiger lilies.
Categories:
cousin, death, grandfather, grief,
the phone rang during supper.
No one wanted to get it.
We were devouring butterscotch pie.
My favorite with graham cracker crust.
My mother called my name
Said “get the phone”
I jumped up
An old lady said “Is your mother there?”
I made fun of the old lady’s voice as I handed the phone to Mom.
Mom yelled “DICK!”
Dad jumped up and grabbed Mom before she hit the floor.
She had fainted.
It was my grandfather on the phone.
Not an old lady, just a crackly grief-stricken voice.
My mother’s mother had died that day.
I could not face butterscotch pie for fifty years after this.
Categories:
death,
For a blessed hour to sleep and awaken in
your presence,
as the dusty antique grandfather clock chimes in
solemnity's hour of bereavement,
to whom I am enslaved, always.
My cherish of you in unquenchable fires, scorching,
undying,
as the netherworld's watchmen appear in the
eve shadows-
remnants of the years past joys and sorrows.
All of life's anguish of regrets,
of sweeter remembrances,
of seeking solace from the sympathy
of the saints,
as summertide's augustness begins
to weep farewell, fading.
I still hear your jeweled singing,
of dream travels through the expanse
of misted drapes of stars of a sapphire
and golden heaven-gate,
to have communion with you. ~
Categories:
death, 7th grade, 8th grade,
arthritic hands search the fretboard
finding chords that hurt the least
the old guitar brings a toothless grin
then we sneak a sip of whiskey
Categories:
death, age, goodbye, grandfather,