Search for and find the perfect poem for a funeral, memorial service, or eulogy. International poets write these beautiful and thought-filled poems about death. Hundreds of new poems are added weekly to help comfort your family, friends, and loved ones. See also new poems about death (below) or Famous Poems About Death
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Choosing Poems for Eulogies, Funerals, etc.
When selecting poems about death, you may choose one that was the deceased’s favorite. Your decision may be determined by your interaction with the person who has died. He/she might have had one poem that he/she liked and choosing it for the funeral or epitaph could be the best celebration of life for the dead.
You may select a poem that evokes the spirit of the dead person; one that focuses on their qualities or outlook on life. You can also choose a poem that focuses on your love for the person who has died.
Your choice of poems about death may be determined by the mood you want to create. After the death of a person, many people feel the loss. You may use a poem to acknowledge this death. Alternatively, you may use it to set a mood of optimism. Therefore, you may choose a poem based on how you want people to take the loss or remember the person.
New Poems About Death
Do stop your moaning, for Heaven's Sake!
You're not the first to bellyache!
You can scowl, growl, or howl
Or throw in the towel
But no one can go to your Wake!
Speare Earth Poetry
allusion, birth, change, death, deep, poetry, write,
An Ode To The Hearth
Everything born is birth
Anything dies is dead
Nothing ever really changes
Because nothing is new
Life is given
This same life is taken.
Emptied hopes and aspirations
At the river Styx eternally floats.
Lukewarm; of what is hot
And of what is cold?
Man's infinitesimal problems
Take all his times, for human life is
Indeed vain and strife;
Living to impress others impressing others.
Oh mother hearth,
Be revered, for home is
Where lies true love and companionship
Even at the end of civilization
Let there be thy ever burning fire
In our hearts, reassuring
Godwin Henry Osaigbovo Pa Shakespeare
absence, allegory, art, aubade, death, eulogy, humanity,
Emilia In Romagna
Somewhere a lost little girl
Is crying in her bedroom closet
Because she can’t hear
Moving about anymore
She can see dim shapes
Mama stored stuff in here
Luggage scarfs tennis racquets
Boxes of old photographs
Apparently not water or food
She can hear the ancient
Mama always kept on
Pavarotti is proclaiming
His love for another faulty insecure woman
In an opera that makes
As much sense as this
Her disconsolate glissandos
Ravaged juddered weeping
Rival the maestro
absence, abuse, america, bible, future, grave, grief,
The cold morning air kisses my fingertips with incognito apology.
A wraith swimming among ghost town touching base to find reason
for the days the Universe changed.
The elements scuttle to find their new place. The people lament and seek sanity in mirrors face.
A half removed remorse- caught within digital distranslation of binary- binding to an alien language abetting at the core.
In the setting up of stages in a New ?? disOrder.
A requiem sequim seeking also the dew of entangled remorse :code:
anxiety, death, feelings, sick,
The day my life went comotose..!!
I walked and walked and walked.. amidst the vehicles,forgetting myself,
lost in thoughts, manipulating my mind,
immersing my entire body into heated dust
that was breezing around me..And,
suddenly my heart felt the pain, began
to shudder hopelessly and felt
as though "I am going to collapse"
due to extreme fatigue..
In death, as in life
I am one with creation
Peace is my reward
Kim Helen James
death, fear, love,
is no fear that great
cannot be defeated
the power of love!*
© Demetrios Trifiatis
06 APRIL 2020
* Dedicated to those who died fighting coronavirus
for to let others live!
loss, lost love,
took you from me on a snowy winter day just like that;
you were gone and now although still broken I must live my_
April 6, 2020
Written for the contest, Let The Pens Flow _ Antonym
sponsor, Jenish Somadas
A word in saddened whisper, and conversation brief,
you see the people coming, then they go,
bringing food, flowers; condolences for grief,
plus sympathy for such a telling blow.
You take your turn, to acknowledge what is pain,
and find it hard to hold back with your tears,
for sobbing takes its toll that is so hard to explain,
which only time can heal and that is years.
But for mourners not family who offer their respect,
life must return to normal day to day,
so a life will be remembered, but with no affect;
even anniversaries hold little sway.
So closeness and feeling of each eternal love,
that over many years began and grew.
But when there comes a calling from the Lord above,
you never know that feeling ‘til it’s you.
I pass those old pine trees in the park often,
where we liked to just lay talking- holding hands;
I stood frozen when they lowered your coffin,
now just a sad girl with tangled hair who stands.
You would so love it this year my darling,
everything is quite green and lush and serene;
there is a bird song- oh, it is a starling _
this destiny I could never have foreseen.
Inspiration "Under the canopy of the pine trees we lay"
_a line by Eve Roper
April 6, 2020
Written for Poetic Lines From A Poetry Soup Poet - Eve Roper
sponsor, Silent One
there should be a Jazz Parade
in the French Quarter
but given the times
it won’t happen
just lonesome solos
for a saxophone
and a trumpet.
I have the dreaded Covid
Everything tastes bland
I can’t smell the flowers
You’ve forsaken me again
With the borders closed
Houses locked down
I’m a prisoner
In my own death
He circles my bed
With his foul breath
Of mystery and menace
Its just the plague doctor
Breathing gets harder
Even with the ventilator
That suck the life out
Then pushes it back in
Make up your mind
Is it the black death?
Or bat death
Pass the point of caring
As I won’t be here
To write that poem
After the plague
What was done in old
To close the playhouses
After the first thirty
In one week
When even gods messenger
To call it time
Is caught in quarantine
I won’t get word
Of my impending death
Till long after
I’m laid to rest
death, hate, words,
Numbers will be reduced per store -
That has never happened before.
No more grab a trolley and go,
It will be much less frantic, though,
I have a list of things to buy,
With some alternatives to try,
I'll go down at half-past four,
When there won't be too many more,
It will be bit late, I know,
But I hate standing in a row,
How many more will have to die
Before we bid this curse good-bye?
death, fear, sick,
It arrived in total silence
unobserved and in disguise
crept deep-rooted undetected
then it took us by surprise.
Some declared coronavirus
was no whirlwind, nor a blast;
like most objects ‘made in China’
they assumed it would not last.
Till it spread to every country
like wild fire, beyond control
causing havoc amongst thousands
and the lives of many stole.
Quarantine and isolation,
panic, stress and bouts of fear;
above all signs of depression,
the way forward, dark, unclear.
Now it’s time to stick together
find the strength not to succumb
to the foe, but with conviction
we shall rise, we’ll overcome.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
god, inspiration, jesus, metaphor, muse, mythology, prayer,
The sickness that inspires our prayers for death,
when, from time to time, we invoke the Muse;
and she doth not reply, but must refuse;
that our quills run dry as we fail for breath;
hence palsies us. Grieved, we beg, from beneath
Parnassus, the gods for to never lose,
but to acquire, their afflatus,—that ooze
and oil wherewith our lines may flow, enwreath'd
in dulcet tones and framed with storied rhyme;
to honor and to glorify the Creator,
the Maker of makers, for all of time:
for there's no Poet more infinite or greater!
O, Phoebus! may your measured mounts inspire,
that to our Maker's Word we may aspire.
“Give me Liberty or give me death”
For this I will fight with my last God given breath.
Don’t infringe on my rights, my bullets nor my gun.
For if attempted, your reality will come undone.
“I prefer dangerous freedom over peaceful slavery”
This is not a land of weakness but a home of bravery.
We can’t stand by and let our way of life be lost.
We must always stand up and fight, no matter the cost.
“Freedom cannot be bestowed it must be achieved”
This must be remembered and always believed.
We must never fade quietly into the night.
This is our home and for this we must fight.
I am a bit.
Of this and that.
Amateur of life
I create realities
that won't hurt me much
for I do not fit to what is.
Projecting untouchable images.
Don't do it with me.
It's the only thing we can do together
besides anticipating death.
And not doing it alone
with voices in your head
just kills the mood.
You all just leave and shut the door.
Wannabe takes a leap,
slowly drifting in the air.
anxiety, death, fear, god,
Faith’s Lack, Breeds Fear
Written: by Miracle Man
Gone are violins that usually play,
that can soothe a troubled soul throughout the day.
We are mired in a time that we can't see past,
and media coverage- leaves us downcast.
They paint a picture of innocent dying,
our future looks bleak and most horrifying.
As good hearted people reach out in support,
others parse words in a vile attempt to thwart.
*Prophecy teaches perilous times will come,
only God knows the day, the hour, and outcome.
*2 Timothy 3:1
“This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come.”
It's a shopping mall exit,
that we think is a short-cut.
we have passed a thousand times
becomes a threshold.
Persons can abruptly disappear,
then the Universe
has to put them together again
from the smithereens of minor sins.
In our heart of hearts
we see our end
as an empty shopping cart
in a store on fire.
The chipmunk in the backyard
runs this way and that,
but the hawk in a nearby tree
knows that this day
is in fact
its last door.
cat, children, evil, grave, halloween, horror, moon,
by Michael R. Burch
If evening falls
on graveyard walls
far softer than a sigh;
if shadows fly
the sickled sky,
while children toss their heads
uneasy in their beds,
beware the witch's eye!
If goblins loom
within the gloom
till playful pups grow terse;
if birds give up their verse
to comfort chicks they nurse,
while children dream weird dreams
of ugly, wiggly things,
beware the serpent's curse!
If spirits scream
in haunted dreams
while ancient sibyls rise
to plague nightmarish skies
one night without disguise,
while children toss about
uneasy, full of doubt,
beware the Devil's eyes . . .
Keywords/Tags: Halloween, grave, graveyard, black, cat, evil, horror, children, shadows, sickle, moon, witch, witches, goblins, serpents, spirits, ghosts, sibyls, Devil
death, life, world,
The dangerous dusty world is now comfortable for the Covid-19
The severe filthy world is now well residual for vultures
The fearful world is now full with divine fair for the dead
The dead now rest in divine with grievance while the alive in hell happily
The most aromatic flower from paradise,
Can bring eternal sleep easily
The useful curse by human
for the poor and middle class family
and for the rich safe custody....
nick armbrister jimmy boom semtex
flying, memorial, sympathy, thank you, thanks,
Oh how sorry I am
To concentrate on the wingman
Who crashed on the hillside
The crash that killed Frederick
For three and a half decades I waited
To see where you fell
And died on a cold wet English moor
Your real wingman survived, just
He lost his wing tip
And returned to base, white
But over the mountain there was another
One was not enough
England decreed American blood
For the cost of her freedom
And she got it
A second Mustang went in
Left an eighteen foot crater
It took an explosion to do this
Yet the pilot was not incinerated
Wilhoit was your name
Witnesses snatched your ID cards and book
Before you burned up
When I return home
I will see where you fell
And I will never ever forget
What you died for nor why
And I will say THANK YOU
For you gunned Nazis down
Over their own homeland
You escaped them all
To die in forever England…
New Dawn 2971
Nick Armbrister and other authors/poets/writers
grief, music, suicide,
Standing under the lights
You had them hypnotized;
From the moment you touched the mic
stood in front with that guitar,
every thought echoed,
every word sung back;
But with that stage so bright
the fame faded to shadows in your eyes;
You couldn’t see the hope you gave them
standing under the lights;
Now the lights are out,
nothing but darkness left;
The fans must try and hold on
and accept the fact that you are gone.
**RIP Kurt Cobain**
death, irony, social,
Hey, shake hands with your new manager, Bill
I would, sure, but I don't want to get killed
Manager shot Bill dead
Two bullets to his head
Social distancing's such a bitter pill
angst, art, death,
Must It Be His Life?
Then What Must Be Vanquished For