When we kill a tree
Does a forest sigh
Rustle with grief that
One of them should die.
Is there apprehension,
Do the trees even hear,
The clinking clanking sound
As the felling gang draws near.
The real flowers of the world,
The lungs of the Earth,
Helping cleanse the air from
the moment of their birth.
Their beauty being replaced
By a much lesser scene
As we uproot the trees
To plant Soya bean.
Do the trees around the world
Hear the grieving crying
From swathes of woodland as
They sense their colleagues dying.
Will there be a memorial service
When they've killed the last tree
Will they follow into extinction
The last wild bee.
When the Earth is levelled
And sterile and neat
Under chamfered layers
Of reinforced concrete
And the air gets heavy
With every breath a chore
Each one less satisfying than
The one just gone before
Will we regret we didn't listen
To the almost silent pleas
That rustled through the branches
Carried by the last gentle breeze.
Will a silent protester
Surreptitiously sow
Handfuls of acorns to watch
New Oak saplings grow.
Walking out of church into the autumn morning
Among many this overwhelming feeling
There are no bad people, no addicts this day
Too beautiful and clean: the tall tree, the air, sky
Such a calmness descends
All seems well - no addictions
Not a day to spend frivolously
The gifts of God, generously
Given has sunk into all hearts
Thank you Mrs. Douman, fondly "TANIE NITA"
We were neighbors once, we shared plants
Your homegoing gave all a taste of heaven
And a mixed gathering in South Africa's NGK
Netherlands Gereformeende Kerk today
She was found face down beside her bed
dead long before they kicked in the door
of the deteriorating house that reeked
of cat piss that had soaked into the
rotting planks of the bare wood floor
the plaster ceilings falling in
surrounded by mounds of detritus
boxes of odds and ends that had
been bestowed upon her by those
she had in their last days cared for
Every eye dry at the memorial service
not a single tear shed
for the mother who had decades ago
been abandoned to raise three children on her own
and had died alone
Under the full moon in the backyard of his home
he had been so proud to be able to buy
only a few months before
she’d planned to visit that same day
where she would now be a permanent guest
we transferred the ashes
mixed with the powder of pulverized bone
from the simple wooden box
into the ceramic urn I had helped him to choose
decorated with wine colored roses
fearful I was witnessing my own future
2020 weirdest year in my sixty-eight years
I was glad my mother’s memorial service was Feb second
Because the next month we would have had to limit to ten
And we had over seventy attend
2020 strangest election in the history of US
I cannot ever recall anything like it
I never want to see anything like it again either
I mean EVER
2020 our school shut down for a year
From March 13th to March 8th
The children missed a year
Online school is not the same
2020 Please never repeat yourself
Our morale, and our health cannot take it
This mask-wearing is ridiculous.
I wish people would take precautions.
In 2020 I wish I had not let my mother die,
but bone cancer has a mind of its own, and does not ask permission
I am glad we had her memorial service on February second
For other mothers were buried in March
And the congregation was limited to ten mourners.
I am glad that I painted forty new canvases, and had the time.
In 2020 I wish I had more incentive to watch the U-tube videos
That showed me how to use GoogleClassroom and Zoom
As we have been using them extensively for eight months now
Man, I really really really wish I had paid more attention
how to set up appointments and how the calendar interacts with these programs. I feel happy that I wrote over two thousand poems though.
In 2020 I am glad that I got to see four of my grandchildren,
But feel sad that it has been a year since I have seen the other six.
I regret having shingles and asthma,
for these ailments have kept me from fully living this pandemic year.
It has kept me home, “safely” sheltered in place.
I regret my weight gain, but understand it.
Eating has been my only comfort in 2020.
I am excited to say I am eating a Milky Way candy bar right now.
Death froze still the warmth of your blood
lustre of your twinkling eyes stolen forever.
Breathless moribund weary days, now gone
in soundless sleep, a soul rises to endeavor.
We could not save you, the curtain fell down
our heavy hearts, your numb voice and face
in a walkaway of tears, you depart from us
beyond the light, perhaps to a better place.
You will no longer look at us anymore
that laughter will never spring again.
Every time we'll look at your photo
We will call you back to ease our pain.
24th June 2019
Sponsor Team PoetrySoup
Contest Funeral, Eulogy, or Memorial Service Poetry
This someone you loved, died,
It is hard to find the words to describe.
I wrote a poem that might comfort you –Now-
~
To the grieving family--------
O’ what a borrower, I am;
What a borrower, we are;
It’s hard to materialize;
These tears that we would cry;
Tho! This soul has passed away;
We were honored true;
~
Surely we shall remain;
In comfort with memories;
Of our loved one whose been taken;
Onto, onto to glory, this we’re not mistaken;
Who are we but just partakers?
We are borrowers…
~
God grant us to be together;
Alas now and maybe in the forever;
Shed no tears, sadden not be;
In mercies grace and heaven we’ll see;
Back to the dust, alas I’m eternal spirit-soul;
Miss you yes… But I know you’ve gone on with the Lord;
You were not really totally ours…
For you are, (you’re) borrowed from God
You were…
6/22/19
For Funeral, Eulogy, or Memorial Service Poetry Contest Cash Prize Poetry Contest.
Sponsored by: Team PoetrySoup
Her body lies in state before us now
Her last breath taken after a vow
As remarkable as any ever heard
Magnanimous in message; brief in word
As we gather to bid her farewell
Our broken hearts yet manage to swell
With pride at what she hath bequeathed
A gift for the ages, her conscience unsheathed
Looking on in awe as she, gathering her strength
Raising up on her pillow, pausing at length
Then straining her voice, sweet as a nightingale's
Pouring forth this prayer, ascending Lady Justice's scales
Dear Lord, please take me back to your garden
But first assure me that you will pardon
All the sins of those now gathered before me
For if you will not honor this, my fervent plea
~ I take upon myself all future suffering
Of these, my friends and family
And with that, she lay her head back on death's comforting pillow
As we stood silent, arms extended, touched by her soul -- weeping willows
June 23, 2019
Funeral, Eulogy, or Memorial Service Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Team Poetry Soup
I know it has been hard, and you feel like you cannot cope; weep if you must but never lose hope.
You cry until you feel like your throat is tied with a rope; get that grief out but never lose hope.
The emptiness may seem very hard to bear but at some point, I encourage you to be of good cheer.
Death can be likened to that of a slippery slope, but remember there is life after death so never lose hope.
The pain you feel engulfs your being like an envelope, but stay strong and never lose hope.
The sting of death is appointed to the common man and even a pope, however, it will be defeated just never lose hope.
Rise up in victory and you will see that a day is coming which will bring the great jubilee.
I will encourage you to view death in a positive scope, remember God is with you through it all so never lose hope.
Yes,
we lived and
we fought against each other thus enemies on
the battlefield of hate we died
but
death has us united and brothers out of us
has made!
No,
my loving brother,
enemies we were never born but made
by
all those who had the most to gain!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
10 August 2018
* Written after watching a memorial service at which former
enemies met to honor their fallen comrades-in-arms!
Local Memorial Service
Outside the funeral agency two employees
dressed for their job, stood smoking, by the pavement
a hearse with coffin inside stood waiting.
finally, they threw the butts in the gutter started
The car to take to the church where the casket would
be decorated with flowers and then with a cortège
of mourners followed behind led by the local padre.
There were no many men among the marchers, they
thronged the bar on the way and only joined
in the last minutes.
The padre did the rituals and packed up and left
the mourners cried and there were many handshakes
among the people and talk about the dead person
who apparently had been a bit of a bastard cheating
in cards and not to be trusted.
Of course, nothing of this was uttered at the cemetery
it was later in the bar the person of ill-repute was mentioned
I look down and see a fist full of nothing,
All that I had and all that I was is like dust in the wind,
The pain in your heart is the only proof I was ever here,
When you think of me I am resurrected, connected to you,
And when you leave,
I will cease to be.
Though we are separated,
I have found life was over-rated,
Because what I now see,
Is more beautiful than I thought it could be.
Remember me in your heart,
Your thoughts,
The times we cried,
The times we fought,
The times we laughed,
And the time I died,
For if you think of me, I will never be gone.
Funeral, Eulogy, or Memorial Service Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Team Poetry Soup
6/21/19
Invitation To A Funeral
The night cold with it's sharp corners
Cutting comfort through my skin
With drunken footsteps of a soldier
I'm a tourist at your door again
My knock is full of empty
A vacant echo its reply
Consequence provides the answer
Circumstance the reason why.
Can't mend my bleeding ego.
Pieces of me cupped in the hands of my mind
Memories dripping through my fingers
A painful pleasure suicide
Your broken promise castaway upon the waters
Now washed up on desolate shores.
I've become the company
That misery enjoys
My imagination without wonder
Muffled thunder in broken skies
Love is an invitation to a funeral
A memorial service where death is eulogized.
There was a bright preacher named Justus
His bumper said "Honk if you love Jesus"
If you wish to quickly meet Him
Continue with your driving while texting -
A lesson for some Memorial Service
Even though I read tribute poems at your memorial service I still
Can’t believe that you both died aged just 19 and 20.
Staring me in the face when I open my cupboard are the plastic beakers
That you and your brother drank from when you played at our house -
All it took to lose your lives was powerful Ecstasy tablets
Such a tragedy that we will never ever get over …
You are always in my thoughts Jacques and Torin.
Tribute to Jacques and Torin Lakeman who tragically died in December 2014
Contest Ecstasy Sponsored by John Hamilton
06~28~16
Sub Categories
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