Funny Eulogy Poems | Examples
These Funny Eulogy poems are examples of Eulogy poems about Funny. These are the best examples of Eulogy Funny poems written by international poets.
I have to come clean as I return to see
your ashen corpse and dried leaves
My survival became more important than yours
but now I feel badly.
Humans choose to love their own selves
More than anyone they choose to love
Don’t believe what they say in their poems
I loved you because you would tempt me
to hear the silent moment
I will never forget your beautiful nebari
Funny, I learned that word when I met you
I put you under the cruel sun and fed you
It worked as long as we were together
We were both once green and authentic
We come from the same mother
I wish she had given you feet and legs
Then like me, you might still be alive
She put us in a tea cup of naive cruelty
Well-meant intentions cannot sustain life.
Maybe my departure made you wish to be dead
I once wished for that too
Woodsman on a prowl
Sneaking around like an owl
Noticing innocents getting a fright
Watchman you are a good knight
Defending partiers in a plight
Battling a monster in a murderous fight
Erich you guarded them all
Despite the rainfall
Where thunder clapped
Lightning snapped
Spotlighting your heroic stage
Heralded by the girls maturing in age
Until your deadly scripted page
As we reflect surrounded by campfire mist
Who should be on the angelic list
Mr. Anderson may not have received Brad Clooney fame
But we knew your look maybe not name
Reminded the rat was Ben
While the chopping mall no longer needed Ken
RIP mechanical hiking buddy
Protecting those from evil not really funny
Make it sunny
Heavens will be brighter
Since you are now a soulful fighter
We all down here
Are in it for the scream and cheer
Toasting Rob Dier
With a corkscrew and beer
All I Got
The first smell of the morning air
The morning air that never stays the same
A fling with despair
Chagrin no worries no care
Audiences who would of knew
Everyone of them then then you would have known
A story A king A tyrant
A story I'd of never heard out on that Island
Fantasy my brain craves more
The trick of being like the air
My story if time can see that my mind was another me
Putting up with a comedy of errors
I laugh it is a funny story involving a change
Planning to be caring and fair practiced talent
To tolerate all that goes wrong
Living changing learning rearranging
Expect the same challenge as you offer
Fully shielded by what I like
Never a passion dismiss never a passion remixed
Stay tuned to the frequency of toxic resonance
Then practice to orbit the stratosphere
Conquering by visiting the state of Fear
To whom it may concern,
For time will surely tell,
I write to my loved ones
To say that I am well.
I scarcely can recall
A time more I content,
Than here amongst my friends
With time more wisely spent.
The rooming here is quaint,
In truth, a little cramped.
Likewise, harsh April rains
Make all my walls feel damped.
The silence, although grave,
Does make for better sleep.
Yet, every passing day
More neighbors moan and weep.
I hope to see you soon,
Perhaps within the year.
For winters cold and stiff
Are awfully lonely here.
Until we meet again,
I wish you all the best.
For my death after all
Is quite the restless test.
My love has passed away. What can I say?
I could tell so many stories from his life.
Things sad or funny. I could talk all day,
for no one knew him better than his wife.
I want for everyone to know that he
would lift me up, yet now he’s past the sky!
I hope he’s looking down on you and me.
Know this though: where he’s gone, doves don’t quite cry.
Mourning doves – when they cry – shed tears of joy.
They bring us peace though we be sorrowing.
I see my husband’s smile. It’s that of our boy.
Our children’s hopes we should be borrowing.
Loved ones live on through memories we share
with one other till we’ve all passed on
to the shining side, for I know that’s where
I’ll greet my love again one glorious dawn.
A V.I.P, Our Queen you see. There will never be anyone else quite like her.
Always dressed in her Absolute best, nothing more and nothing less.
Her absolute favourite was M&S.
Not a hair out of place, or lack of smile upon her face.
Everywhere she went, Our nana radiated beauty, elegance and grace.
Our Nana was a hero, Sweet but Stern,
Funny but Firm, Small and Mighty,
Terrific and Tiny.
A force to be reckoned with I think you would all agree, Zooming around with her frame Ever so hastily!
Throughout the years there were ups and downs, Our nana got up and straightened her crown.
An inner strength I most admired, Our nana's time came and she grew tired.
We tucked her in and said Goodnight, your wings are ready, you can stop this fight.
We will all be okay and take care of our Mum, go to Grandpa now Our nana, go and live another lifetime of fun.
A Golden Girl, Ms. Betty White, one day shall meet
Your life measured in memories that were sweet
May you tap dance to the rhythm of the beat
As you were always amusingly funny on your feet
1/10/2022
Betty White Jan. 17, 1922-Dec. 31, 2021
A Celebrity Epitaph Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Michelle Faulkner
Betty White was the gentle Rose
Golden Girl’s funny lady of repose
She charmed us all on those shows
With kindness a poet might compose
A Celebrity Epitaph Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Michelle Faulkner
January 3, 2022
Thus Spoke Brother Moji
(not Zarathustra)
With all due respect,
irrespective of
with regards to
I have no respect
for irregardless.
July 5, 2021
Boulder, Colorado
Funny
Sorry
No
One of the saddest of life's
ironies is this
That how a person when alive
Who not a single good could
thing could be reported of
Is now in death being eulogised
about
By the very same people he
was treated by with contempt
and as an enemy
Bearing in mind they never actually
knew him
But in fact choose rather
to consort against him
Or even gave him the benifit of
the doubt
Funny
No
Both sorry and sad
Rest in Peace
Best Wishes
Kind Regards
To your grieving family
Because at the end of the day
A Wife has lost her husband
and now is a widdow
And her children
Are now without a father
And just remember
As an actress in jest once said
Im just a women standing in
front of a man telling her she
loves him
So does a crown and service
not slip when it comes to feeling
raw human emotion
Because surely there is no
defense to the heart against
bad news
Because when all is said and
done in death and loss
Are we not different but all
the same eventually at last
My Muse
Squeezed
One out
I think
I will
Call
IT
Panagiota
Caren was a poet, an artist, a painter, a player.
She played mostly with children
For they delighted her
All the days of her life
Her own children grew up, so she taught school
So she could play with other children
She played them chess, board games, word games.
She loved brain quest games especially.
Caren was a gamer.
She played about four hours a day.
Scrabble and Words with Friends.
She had many real friends too.
Most of them know she wants
Puff the Magic Dragon played at her funeral.
She loved the 70’s, being a hippie, and
Helen Reddy. Especially “I am Woman.”
She was fun, funny, and fantastic.
I know because I am her muse, Trixie.
Yes, she named me.
That is how she was.
You do it for me, better than tea,
better than Camembert, or a nice runny Brie.
Better than honey, or marmalade toast
or an unexpected letter that arrives in the post.
Better than hob nobs, or baby's smiles,
or the sensual feeling of polished tiles.
Better than Connolly's funniest joke,
or dipping toast soldiers in a nice runny yolk.
Better than finding a twenty pound note
in the inside pocket of an old favourite coat.
Better than bacon with a nice crispy rind,
or a cool gin and tonic to help me unwind.
Better than snow on Christmas Day morning,
or lying in bed, stretching and yawning.
Better than finding jeans that fit,
or a long train journey with places to sit.
Better than bubbles that pop on your nose,
or the feeling of warm, silver sand in your toes.
Better than the tingle of ice on your tongue,
or the warm glow of knowing that you belong.
Better than sunshine, better than rain,
better than the I.Q. of Einstein's brain.
Even better than picking a scabby knee,
you're better than all this and more to me.
Mmm!
I ate a Cracker!
Crackers taste good!
Now I'm a cannibal.
Don’t need new sneakers
‘cause you’ll never find your feet
Don’t need no lock ‘n’ key
You got the worst house on the street
You gambled everything
And got busted, broke and beat
Your luck was runny
Now you got no money
Don’t bother makin’ up yo mind
You got no choice
You got no pull, got no sway
And you ain’t got no voice
No rainbows in the sky
Under which you can rejoice
It’s not too sunny
When you don’t have money
So you traced your evil
Back to its root
And fully resisted
Forbidden fruit?
Well ain’t you clever
And ain’t you cute
Why you haven’t offed yourself,
I can’t compute
Some people set aside
Retirement pensions
Some people stay awhile
In houses of detention
You have success –
It’s just in a state of suspension
Ain’t fate funny
When you don’t have any money?
Hit the bricks, pal
You couldn’t close a window
Couldn’t hit water if you fell from a boat
Couldn’t keep up with your shadow
Looks like you’d better
Get used to this gutter –
A far cry from the meadow
Full of fawns and furry bunnies
Now that you’ve lost the money