How important a woman is!
Visit a funeral where it was of a man.
Visit a funeral where it was of his wife.
Take attendance and count the mourners.
It will tell how important the woman had been.
19.01.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Problem With Living Too Long
A godlier man, there never lived -
My dear old Uncle Fred,
And throngs should fill the funeral home
When word comes that he's dead.
For the numbers at the funeral home
Are a measure of one's worth;
The sum of all the lives one's touched
While here upon the earth.
But few will visit the funeral home
When my Uncle passes on,
For he's lived so long that those he's touched
Are already dead and gone.
Grave Situation
“The other reason I
Didn’t show up?
Well…”
His eyes turned in,
Towards his soul
“It’s something I
Cannot name”
“Welcome to the court
Of consequences! ”
Her retort was immediate
And bruised
They stared, stunned
By nebulous knowledge
Deep into each other
And the relationship gasped
And died
The funeral never
Happened
No mourners dared
Visit the grave
October,2006
poem by Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson
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Don’t exit your grave.
Don’t visit your premises
After death. You’ll be a ghost.
Don’t visit your work place
After retirement. Hold the face.
15.07.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Louisa
Louisa, make it a point to visit Ghana;
For the nature is there for you to admire.
Of the Bobiri Forest and Betterfly Sanctuary to visit,
Of the Wechiau Hippo Sanctuary to visit,
Of the Xavi Bird Watching Sanctuary to visit,
Of the Kakum National Park to visit,
Of the Aburi Botanical Gardens to visit,
Of the Bui National Park to visit,
Of the Ankasa Nature Park to visit,
Of the Bonsu Arboretum Park to visit,
Of the Digya National Park to visit,
And to sit under a broom tree with us;
Like a reed shaking in the water of love.
Louisa, make a trip to Ghana and see this lovely place;
For the nature is there for you to admire.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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His Funeral Is Mine
He is just a young man,
With little knowledge of his own future.
Little did he know,
His funeral was coming in days time.
Years have passed him by,
And little did I know,
I fell in love with him,
He fell in love with me.
Little did we both know,
Too little.
I figured out from his unhappiness,
His marriage was the day of his funeral.
I know the right thing to do is to stay away from him,
But he's too charming,
He has me locked in his magic spell,
His funeral has become mine.
As I fall asleep each night,
I remember the minutes in his presence,
As I know he is spending the night
With his wife..
poem by Petra Tawfik
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My Funeral Pen
My Funeral Pen writes for me
All of these words that set me free
The pen that I shared for Mourners to sign
The pen that I wrote to turn back time
The pen that I wrote the Funeral Plans
While Families cried I held their hands
This pen has been held ever so tight
By many seeing darkness yet others seeing light
This pen holds memories dear to my heart
Bringing togetherness
Yet Families torn apart
Funeral Becomes a Must
Funeral of the Mind
becomes must though should not
Aggregation-and-Aggravation
be in halt.
Funeral of the Heart
becomes must though should not
Affliction-and-Abjection
be in halt.
Funeral becomes a Must!
poem by Roseville Nidea
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Sins of fathers
Heaven is a promise and hell, a threat.
This world is real where we roll to die.
Heaven and hell visit us before we die
Sins of fathers shall not visit children.
26.07.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The parting of the partner.
I lost my dear wife at a tender age.
I collected addresses for funeral.
I conducted the cremation
I went to my village to be called on.
I made over things held by her.
I had been too busy to weep.
27.10.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Forget to Write Your Funeral Plan
Michael Jackson's 'SMILE' played, as the coffin entered everyone stood tall
Mum's poem was read and felt by all
The Mourners were smiling at the photo's of Mum
As the DVD played, no one was glum
Happy pictures were played of Mum's life with a tear
To the tune of the music 'If I Lay Here'
Friends got up for the Eulogy
Wonderful Words spoken of Mum... Now free
Free to move on, to follow a new life
Happy if Dad, finds a new wife
Everyone looked like they were enjoying the moment
In a room full of love; as if Heaven sent
For Mum was so kind and by all adored
Yet sadly the Funeral Conductor looked everso bored
He looked like he had something better to do
This was just a job and he really didn't care just who...
Who had died Or who was grieving
About the life of this person or the world they were leaving
So... Make sure you write.. Your Funeral Plan
It saves pain for the family, A real helping hand
You can choose your Funeral Home, coffin, Cemetery and your music too
It will take away some pain Of losing you
I Believe
Valerie solanis took the elevator
Got off at the 4th floor
Valerie solanis took the elevator
Got off at the 4th floor
She pointed the gun at andy saying
You cannot control me anymore
I believe theres got to be some retribution
I believe an eye for an eye is elemental
I believe that somethings wrong if shes alive right now
Valerie solanis took three steps
Pointing at the floor
Valerie solanis waved her gun
Pointing at the floor
From inside her idiot madness spoke and bang
Andy fell onto the floor
I believe lifes serious enough for retribution
I believe being sick is no excuse and -
I believe I wouldve pulled the switch on her myself
When they got him to the hospital
His pulse was gone they thought that he was dead
His guts were pouring from his wounds
Onto the floor they thought that he was dead
Not until years later would
The hospital do to him what she could not
What she could not
Where were you, you didnt come to see me
Andy said, I think I died, why didnt you come to see me
Andy said, it hurt so much, they took blood from my hand
I believe theres got to be some retribution
I believe theres got to be some retribution
I believe we are all the poorer for it now
Visit me, visit me
Visit me, visit me
Visit me, why didnt you visit me
Visit me, why didnt you visit me
Visit me, visit me
Visit me, why didnt you visit me
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never Mourn At My Funeral
Never mourn at my funeral
Because i'm not dead but sleeping
And relaxing on Abraham's bossom
Never mourn at my funeral
You that come in view to mourning
But within you, you're here to mock
Because my poetry has once expose your secret-deeds
Throw my body where you please
Or let it be dismembered
Never mourn at my funeral
You the insect that bites my daffodils
And you who want my fish to swim on a dry earth
Throw me on a stormy sea
Where Jonah fell
But its a glorious shame
I can never sight the river bank of Joppa
Never mourn at my funeral
You that come in my maker's name
Just to bless my end
Go thy way and search for lust souls
Wear them a garment pure as snow
Before they lie low with me
And journey hell eternal
Never mourn at my funeral
But mourn for we're debtors of death
poem by Adesitimi Taiwo
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To visit templesTo visit temples
I visit temples and conduct rites
More to please the priest than the deities.
I visit temples and do sacrifices
More to bribe the God than cleanse myself.
I visit temples and do worships
More to fake being pious than be so.
I visit temples and give offerings
To make clean myself of sins for fresh ones.
18.01.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The only thing that was missing at the rich man's funeral was mourners.
Bhakti is different from beauty
Visit Puri; your eyes are on the idol.
Visit Konark; yours on the sculptures.
While with your wife you see her soul.
While with a pimp, you see her flesh.
Spiritual and aesthetic are different.
24.12.2000, [bakthi = devotion to God]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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That's The Sum Of It
I don't know which to mourn. Both have died on me, my wife and
my car. I feel strongly about my car, but I am also affected by my,
wife. Without my car, I can't leave the house to keep myself from
being alone. My wife gave me two children, both of whom, of course,
no longer live with us, as was to be expected, as we in our youth left
our parents behind. With my car, I could visit my children, when they
are not too busy.
Before she died, my wife urged me to find another woman. It's advice
I'd like to take up but not without a car. Without a car. I cannot find
myself another woman. That's the sum of it.
poem by David Ignatow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Writing The Words
I’m writing this at your funeral.
As I watch all the people in tears.
I wish I could join them,
But I know I have to be strong.
I’m writing this on my hand,
No paper to get it down on.
I want to remember your funeral,
So I’m writing this to honour you.
I’m writing the thoughts that pop into my head,
Making sure they are only the best.
I have to remember,
Because I couldn’t live with myself if I ever forgot.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
As people dropp flowers onto your coffin.
I stand up to dropp my own,
Blue, unlike the others, because I know it’s your favourite.
I’m writing this through the ceremony,
Because if I listen to the words I’ll cry.
And I know I can’t, for you,
I have to keep it together.
I’m writing the words I want to say,
To make people remember how much love you gave.
Because I want them to know,
How much of it you gave to me.
So, I’m writing this at your funeral,
To stop myself from shedding a tear.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
So that I never ever forget you.
poem by Rachel Brewer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lilacs At My Funeral
Lilacs at my funeral
Lilacs when I’m dead
Lilacs in my coffin
Placed gently by my head
Lilacs at my funeral
Lilacs when I’m gone
Lilacs to help send me
On my journey home
Lilacs at my funeral
Lilacs for my grave
Lilacs instead of roses
Think of the money you will save
1978
www.dakotaraeaustin.com
poem by Dakota Austin
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At The Funeral They Cried
At the funeral they cried,
So much sadness pouring out, it was a surprise
To know they’d hated her whilst she was still alive.
But so it goes, the bottled up years of grief given relief,
The pain of loss, that bollocking from the boss,
All those months of feeling cross
And times you had to lie,
All, all comes pouring out
In one long cry.
At the funeral they tried
To think of the woman who’d died,
But found they cried most easily
For themselves.
Coz they didnt care for me,
The woman that died.
poem by Charlotte Marie Peachey
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Your love makes me shy.
You paid me a visit as per my word
Yesterday. Lovelier than you were
In the last visit; you were in animation.
We talked less and transmitted more.
The most passionate woman I ever
Met, you deserved to a better match
Who could keep you fed with passion.
In that case, can you be that receptive?
26.05.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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