Not There To Indict
They were cousins and thick friends too.
One of them died at fifty-five.
The other didn't attend the funeral,
Minding the overnight journey.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Related quotes
Love Unrequested
The lady across the road had beautiful grey hair, thick and
glossy, I admired her mane because she was eighty five.
Her hubby about her same aged died, I attended the funeral,
open casket, in death he looked handsome, old man asleep.
When people get old some do not realize how old they are,
and the old lady, since I had admired her lovely hair, thought
we could be a couple; only I was fifty two at the time and not
overly interested. The lady took offence felt humiliated since
she already had told the villagers I loved her.
A day when I was doing a bit of weeding around the house
She came out; called me a womanizer hit me with her umbrella.
Well I´m not heroic, fled into the house and bolted the door;
and the villagers were greatly amused. She moved to a rest
home and I could go out without being assaulted. I read in
the paper she had just died at hundred and five, but I will not
attend her funeral….I think.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Such Good Friends
Such Good Friends
they were friends
good friends
they became old
they were still friends
still good friends
their wives died
their children went away
their cats became senile
just two old men
just two friends
just two good friends
one evening
as the sun was going down
they made a vow
that they would come
to each other's funeral
one day
one died
and both went to each other's funeral
they were still friends
they were still good friends
poem by Suchoon Mo_
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Kissin' Cousins
(words & music by giant - baum - kaye)
Cousins, kissin' cousins
Kissin's allowed 'cos we're proud to be cousins
What's a little teasin', huggin' and a-squeezin'
Between us cousins.
Oh it's so great to be one big family
And we show it, yes we show it
You see, we never feud, we're a happy brood
Folks all know it, yes they know it
Cousins, kissin' cousins
Honey we dress and we mess
We're just cousins,
Cousins, kissin' cousins
Cousins, kissin' cousins
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Our Funeral
Have you been to a funeral yet, after The Lord you have met?
A special funeral for all of us, who have come to Christ Jesus,
A funeral of your independence, as your heart, to God relents,
When indeed, you die to self, now alive in The Savior’s wealth.
Even though we died, we live, so now our life to God we give,
Earthly desires are all we lose, in accepting God’s good news,
Thus being saved by Jesus Christ, we give Him our earthly life,
Since He died for us at Calvary, to let our captive heart go free.
So believers are now free to die, for Jesus who reigns on high,
Yes free to die to our old ways, as we live out our earthly days,
Living without what we don’t need, as God’s Word we do heed,
While living for a future friend, which when it comes has no end.
The life with God, we now begin, guides us away from dark sin,
We die to sin so we can start, a brand new life with a new heart,
A new heart which now is purified, by the One, Who for us died,
Christ died to cleanse you and me, all with His blood at Calvary.
At this funeral that you attend, it’s just a beginning, not the end,
As you begin life brand new, with The Lord, to see you through,
With The Savior by your side, for He now lives, though He died,
With death swallowed up in victory, believers shall live Eternally.
A Funeral Song
That is a funeral song
For a dear friend
That had died a few days ago
He left us so fast
That he didn't had the time to say good bye
To us
Because when we receive the news from his wife
Saying that he died
I thought that I was having a nightmare
While I was watching tv
poem by Aldo Kraas
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The Dying Ex Football Champion
Around his bed his friends and family but of them he's not aware
His life's journey about to end old Joe the ex footballer player
On his back his eyes closed to his surroundings the life from him ebbing away
Last month he celebrated his eightieth birthday and today his life's final day.
Pre-deceased by his wife Mel she died five years ago
The last two years of his life's journey for him painful and slow
Most of those he played with and against in his football years to the Reaper long gone
But like the battler that he is to the end he's battling on.
Fifty five years ago the Captain of the great Premiership team
By football fans from near and far he was held in high esteem
But time takes care of everyone and everyone means all
And time has also taken toll of the champion of football.
Around his bed his friends and family a silent vigil keep
The end of his life's journey no more than an hour away he is in his final sleep
'Tis a fact those who love life do find it hard to die
But 'tis also a fact that all human beings are mortals and facts do never lie.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Procession
A sinuous black worm,
the funeral procession
of black limousines crawls
toward the cemetary.
The headlights on the
hearse stare straight ahead
like zombies’ eyes,
illuminating the way.
Automobiles passing
the opposite way pull over,
some passengers hushed,
some restless.
Burdened with baby's breath
gladioli sprays and black lace,
a funeral is solemn
departure—a journey
before the journey
after the journey.
poem by Sonny Rainshine
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An orphan death
When one died as very old,
Sons and daughters get relieved,
Their children gather for chit chats
And their kids for a play together>
The sisters and brother, if alive,
Are invalid somewhere, to attend.
A festival like funeral, it will turn.
03.10.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Overnight Angels
(ian hunter)
In the heat of the indian summer
Out along the appalachian way
You can hear the sound of the overnight angels
As they pray
Charged by the light of some mariners lantern
Spitting out a cold but triangular spray
Cant you hear the screams of the overnight angels
As they play
Talking to the spirits through a silver curtain
Reaching out beyond the length of the light
You can catch a glimpse of an overnight angel
As he shines
Dancing through the toys of the dead and the living
Laughing at the poets changing their rhymes
Cant you feel the pulse of the overnight angels
Beating time
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels
Children of the junkies led the revolution
Push yourselves over get yourselves there
Someone throw their arms round the overnight angels
Cause they care
Angels dont need no phony religion
Throw them out along with the ethnic nowheres
They will never speak to the overnight angels
They can only stare
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels angels
Angels angels angels angels
Angels angels angels angels
Angels angels angels angels
Overnight angels
Overnight angels
Talking about
The overnight angels
(fade)
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Will Also Pay Tribute To My Friends
I will also pay tribute to my friends
After all they have done for me
In each of the journey’s of my life
That I have walked
Some of the journey’s have been tough
Others have been easy for me
But without my friends all the journey’s
Would never have ended
So what keeps me here now?
My friends that surround me
In this place
My friends have nurtured me and comforted me
In good times and bad times
poem by Aldo Kraas
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My parents didn't really understand too much about sport. At that time, we were in a Polish community in the inner city of Chicago, and I was the youngest of a bunch of cousins. Polish families are real big, with cousins and aunts and uncles.
quote by Mike Krzyzewski
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My wake, my funeral, my celebration
Death
could be full of surprises.
I'm not Irish; but if you were to do
the full Irish thing - take my corpse out of the coffin,
dance wildly round the room with it one by one -
it'd make my day;
I'd remember it all my, death
and I bet you would too.
Though perhaps the tango would be a bit too far.
The funeral:
the not-too-many invitations should say
'Dress code: happy'. That I'd really like to see.
So I'll be standing at the lych-gate
like a reporter from the local rag
checking you in.
But if you don't attend - that's OK. I wouldn't like to die
a hypocrite; there'll be plenty of folk I shall be meeting
whose funeral I didn't attend, believing as I do
that funerals are for family and just those friends
who wouldn't miss it for the world.
Forget the flowers - I'd rather see flowers live until they die,
like me; not wither like day-brief memories,
as floral tributes flat on the slab like beached dolphins.
Sing the old favourites. And if you don't know the tunes or words,
I'm gently sorry for you - it's good to have them to remember, somewhere back there in the mind.
And if you must have little speeches,
I think I'll just take a stroll round the graveyard during that bit;
praise only makes me regret more what I didn't do.
Then if you're so busy that you leave after the service,
that's OK - but I'd like to think the best were still to come -
the 'do' afterwards - ah, I'll join you for that:
make it a good one; no food is too good
for the living. I'd like to be the one
handing round the plates of goodies;
whose forearm you gently touch in passing
to murmur a brief word about being missed
which may be truly meant
or found to be true.
I'm not really conversant with this recent 'Celebration' thing
though it seems an excellent idea, so positive:
I'd like it, then, to be like that of my beloved friend, John:
where rather than just summon up memories and
share them with each other,
we seemed to be basking in the indescribable privilege
of his friendship
and his love;
which I guess in my case as in his would thus be truly
eternal.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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I had a friend who was a clown. When he died, all his friends went to the funeral in one car.
quote by Steven Wright
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stalked Like A Shadow Passed
Am I stalked like a shadow,
Clinging and from me to pass.
With a scent that is followed,
Thick and carried to cast in the atmosphere?
I often wonder about this.
Can I walk quietly without being observed?
Or does my presence disturb,
Those claiming to be focused on their own affairs.
Is the minding of my own business,
Become part of their agenda and now 'theirs'.
Am I stalked like a shadow,
With a scent that is followed?
Is the minding of my own business,
Become someone else's affair?
I often wonder about this and its annoyance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Wrote You A Letter
I Wrote You A Letter
But Its A Lie
But I Promise You'll Never See Me Cry.
Will You Come To My Funeral When I Die
Or Would You Look In My Lifeless Eyes
And See I Died Because Of You
Because Of The Things You Didn't Do
poem by Dayna Verhulst
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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
Let Life Know You Can Show It Is Liked!
Let life know you know it.
Participate with it as if it is enjoyed.
As if it is accepted...
And you are not annoyed!
Be grateful and say it.
It's okay to pray...
And be thankful!
Every second of each day it stays.
You didn't have to have it.
It didn't have to be given.
Or come your way.
As easily as a bad habit picked...
One many say they are trying to quit!
Let life know you know it!
Introduce yourself!
Become the best of friends!
In the end...
You just may discover,
Taking it for granted
Should not have been a priority!
With demands made it did not understand.
It should have been your main event.
Before you witness it...
Being sent away unfulfilled!
Let life know you know it!
And it will let you know,
You are loved!
And love of life you will feel!
Isn't that what makes your life real?
Let life know you know it.
Let life know you can show that it is liked!
(Dedicated:
To my cousins by the names of
Pertillar ('many')
Branch ('not too many')
Ward ('a bunch')
Countryman ('quite a few')
Vinters ('a handful')
Jackson ('several')
Shepard ('a few')
Proffit ('very few'...lol)
Cicero ('a few')
Langston ('very few')
Brown ('a few')
Wilson ('A few')
Williams ('several')
Freeman...(New York City and New Jersey clans)
And...that's just a partial list! Lol...
This is the 'cousin' to an earlier poem I wrote entitled 'Let Life Know You Know It' Now the 'cousin' says... 'Let Life Know You Know It Is Liked'
And... Cousins 'always' want to add their 2 cents! / LOL)
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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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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Didnt Know
Didn't know what you had
Until you lost it
Didn't know what you own
Until you got it
Didn't know of your sins
Until you fought it.
Didn't know what you needed
Until you sought it.
Didn't know your lies
Until someone spoke them
Didn't know of the truth
Until someone wrote them
Didn't remembered your dreams
Until someone awoke them
Didn't know they died
Until someone chocked them.
Didn't know you had guilt
Until you cried
Didn't know you felt sadness
Until you tried to hide
Didn't know you felt shame
Until you lied
Didn't know you believed in GOD
Until you asked him why.
Didn't know you felt sorrow
Until you shed a tear
Didn't know that you were scared
Until I saw your fear
Didn't know that you hated
Until you were near
Didn't know that you were unhappy
Until you looked in a mirror.
Didn't know who you truly were
Until your ways you sewed
Didn't know that you were evil
Until the truth was showed
Didn't know you did this before
Until I saw all of your woe
Didn't know who you really were
Though I wished then I did know.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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