Mourning(A) Poems | Examples

Bullets Have No Eyes

Bullets have no eyes
In the mourning a son won’t rise
No plan in life for demise
Black men hear our cries

Stop shooting killing each other 
We need love not hate brother 
Time unwinds while you slang
Dealing in death please change

One mother and father miss
The hope denied by this
Feud so rude and senseless 
That dude who killed their kid

You think you had reason to
End a life will bring misery blue
For you have to face the truth 
Humanity is lacking in you

You can never undo evil deed
No matter what you plead
At night your closed eyes see
His eyes as life leaves he bleeds

Now your family members know
Who you really are in your soul
A killer despite reasons why
In a cell of a jail you will reside

When you choose to kill a man
You turn from God’s holy hand
You do the devil’s work indeed
You become a slave never free

So we lost you too you see
No longer an asset to be
No longer in the community 
Not free to thrive and dream

Can you at least give back
By deterring youth from your path
Can you tell truth and testify
Reasons bullets have no eyes

Bereft

      In a roaring ocean of grief, she plunged in.
     A widow, she's a hodgepodge of emotions;
      Caged all alone in melancholy's dungeon.
Day in, day out she's going through the motions.
         Bereft, her composure is barely intact.
     In mourning; a shell fragmenting on impact.
    The loss of her spouse has left her in tatters.
   Quite feeble, a fragile glass that could shatter.

Song Contest

The song contest.
There has been a song contest in Europe
Russian singers and musicians were banned
Which makes the contesting political?
Needless to say, Ukraine won. 
One notice Israel appeared but not
Palestine, who was mourning a dead reporter
Killed by an Israeli sniper, but we will not hold
 this against the musicians and singers

Mourning a Broken Wineglass

Mourning a broken wineglass

Brittle and beautiful you were, you were.
Brittle and broken, you are, you are.
"A thing of beauty a joy forever?
O profundity I cannot measure.
All earthy things will surely pass.
Vessel of sanctity, frail glass,
To hold wine, not water, was your due.
I, who to the sink my treasure threw.
Must  careless haste  confess and rue.

Mourning a Lost

With the passing of my dad
Leaves me to mourn
I was so sad
That it felt as if a prickly thorn
Had entered into my heart
Causing it to bleed
Throughout every part
My spirit had a strong need
To my comfort from my severe pain
Heartache and suffering, that drain me
I know that I’ll never be whole again
He was the light of my life, you see
He faded and drifted away
In my heart, he’ll always sta

At the Knife Edge of That Deep, Dark Abyss

At The Knife Edge Of That Deep, Dark Abyss

I that was born on a dark, stormy night
So gifted at young age, deeper insight,
Lead to safety of ever brighter Light
Freed from darkest of dark, began to write.

A child begging Nature to my pleas hear
Oft with whimpering words and falling tears,
Imaginative child, whispers one hears
Tempting shadows to hit me with more fears.

A teen, mourning a death that my soul broke
Farther into books my heart sat to soak,
Awaiting each, as black the ill wind blows
Felt such abhorrent fears, as such oft goes.

By birth, sponge set to seek out Master Poe.
Living, pen and paper, writing to grow.
 
Robert J. Lindley, 1-26-2020
Sonnet, ( Echoes Heard As Old Rooster Rose To Crow )

One Day Beyond Mourning

One day beyond mourning, a new sun to shine
 a promise remade—not a cloud in the sky

One day beyond mourning, your spirit still warm
your flesh now at rest—on the hill past the barn

One day beyond mourning, the bed sheets unfold
 your shadow uncovered—and now mine to hold

One day beyond mourning, the sun in my eyes
  new words in my heart—a mockingbird cries

One day beyond mourning, my soul free to roam
  your paintings surround me—among them I’m home

One day beyond mourning, I walk to the field
 our blanket still hanging—the oak that concealed

One day beyond mourning, I reset my sights
  the day I’ll rejoin you—that heavenly flight

One day beyond mourning, all will broken free
  my name on the wind—as you call out to me

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

The Princess

The princess

 I don`t understand the British
when Diana died the county went into an unseemly 
mourning a mass hysteria of grief.
She was divorced for a little  called Charles
they had two sons who are both going bald.
I didn`t think much of her going on holidays living
The kids at home, if a working-class mother had
done this the social people would have knocked
on the door.
Diana took up living with an Arab and Charles
married a horse, hadn`t she died she would
by now giving hampers to the wealthy at Christmas.
And no one would have called her
a people’s princess.

Mourning a Child At Midnight

Some choose not to have children
others maybe one or two 
three seems to be the max now

it’s not like when Paul was young 
and a family might have had six or more
the wife at home, the husband working.

Families were big back then.
Now families are considered big 
when a couple has more than three.

Years ago Paul and Faye had five
but after she took that midnight call 
and learned they had lost a daughter

Faye cried for awhile and then
hugged Paul and whispered 
why didn’t we have seven.


Donal Mahoney

One Day Beyond Mourning

One day beyond mourning, a new sun to shine
 a promise remade, not a cloud in the sky

One day beyond mourning, your spirit still warm
your flesh now at rest, on the hill past the barn

One day beyond mourning, the bed sheets unfold
 your shadow uncovered, and now mine to hold

One day beyond mourning, the sun in my eyes
  new words in my heart—a mockingbird cries

One day beyond mourning, my soul free to roam
  your paintings surround me, among them I’m home

One day beyond mourning, I walk to the field
 our blanket still hanging, the oak that concealed

One day beyond mourning, I reset my sights
  the day I’ll rejoin you, that heavenly flight

One day beyond mourning, all will broken free
  my name on the wind—as you call out to me

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

String Me Up

It moves me,
soothes me,
cuts to the core
and pierces 
right through me.
Prison of wood.
Bars of strings.
Captured notes. 
The canary sings.
Broken hearts burned to ash.
Melodic nuclear winter.
Injustice causing retort. 
Revolution's chief dissenter.
Weaver of composers basket
to carry heart's message.
Ballad of a howling wind 
mourning a loved one's passage.
Light burst of a sun cloud.
The note of depression's end.
Version audio, a springtime flower.
New life and courage to lend.
Dancing light on the water.
Cheerful bird in flight.
Rising as the morning sun.
Shooting star across the night.
The music flows and bends.
Following the player's will.
Causing my breath to catch.
Making my heart lay still.
Some chords speak of romance.
Others mourn and cry.
Those that delight at dance.
Symphony carried on a high.
Who knew a simple piece of timber
could share something so human?
May the artists' fingers stay limber,
and express all that they can.

-Angel Fatale-

Face of Truth

look into 
the owls face
in large eyes
a bird 
of great wisdom
weeping in a dark veil
tears flowing
in darkened sight

take a walk with me
writing in the clouds
surrounded in mist
mourning a loss
of one's heart
within a soul

staring into darkness
abyss of emptiness
cold colourless
i see truth
written in the wall
echoes in the deep

covered in shadows
a cobweb mist
barely blinking
i got lost
burdened
with hurt

loves light
gives me direction
in the war
love against hate
you never 
loved me

it prevailed 
light's champion
i mourned 
the death
of a love
that died

America, Remember

America, Remember


Here I stand with emotions over sweeping. 
Flooding through my soul and being. 
Tears flood my eyes and stream down my face. 
As I look upon, His saving grace. 
A soldier beside me, only on leave. 
Mourning a comrad. How I feel him grieve. 
His bravery and valor floods my soul. 
Of what he gives freely, America is fooled. 
I support you my brother and lift you to God. 
For only He knows, the soils you have trod. 
I give my thanks and I praise His name. 
For all like you giving America her name. 
God Bless you all from sea to shining sea. 
God give us Liberty and let us remain Free. 
One Nation Under God and In God I trust. 
It is important for America to remember. 
Or This great nation will turn to dust.

Black Sheep Drawback

‘BLACK SHEEP DRAWBACK’

Discouraged, anxious and unsure—pitch black tarmacs start their war
Petrified, panicked and distressed—uncertainty cracks amidst unwelcomed guests
Dissociated and desensitised a perfect attack—as nervous disposition follows predictable tracks
Another prestigious black tie event—suites and shoes will seldom boycott consents

Perfected flair keeping companies in the black—elegantly formal their wives attack
Each one attired in the colour of grief—sadness and mourning a blackmailed thief
There stands Jack, in a room that is packed—emotionally elusive, cunningly drawn back
Mysterious, powerful negative dirt tracks—black-market malevolence no visible cracks

Observation, lack of confidence to engage—courage imminently pending and upstaged
An edgy apprehensive shrink-back—protection from impulsive reactive, confused attacks
Alarming blackout to opinions of others—ignoring motives of guaranteed buffers
A black sheep just got blacklisted again—anticipation of recurring hurt and pain

A Mother's Crossroad

     "A Mother's Crossroad"



staring at the tiny white casket
tears cascading as raindrops fell
sorrow surrounds my heart holding blue basket
with his favorite toys crying with toll of funeral bell.

though grief usurped my saddened soul
mourning a loss precious and dear
one memorable moment in time made whole
for a Mother's crossroad was drawin g near.

emotions swallowed my life that fateful day
no purpose seemed clear to live or exist
searching for answers; uttered words to pray
breathing had vanished inside Death's Mist.

should I fade into the Past?
should I retrieve from pain?
should I deny my family, at last,
to cease to be?  what would I gain?

to bury a child hurts so very deep
yet change always makes Life turn
as the human heart avows to weep
for forging forward was my concern.

a Mother's crossroad healed within
while memories lingered of a sweet son
who gave me strength to seek to win
choosing a path toward a golden Sun.


*For Gail Angel Doyle's  Standing At A Crossroads Contest.
*Written by:  Linda-Marie The "Sweetheart" of P.S.
*Oct. 31, 2012.

• Short Mourning(A) Poems
• Famous Mourning(A) Poems
• Best Mourning(A) Poems
• Read Mourning(A) Poems
• Long Mourning(A) Poems
• Mourning(A) Quotes