My Coffin
Deeming that I was due to die
I framed myself a coffin;
So full of graveyard zeal was I,
I set the folks a-laughing.
I made it snugly to my fit,
My joinering was honest;
And sometimes in it I would sit,
And fancy I was non est.
I stored it on my cabin shelf
Forever to remind me,
When I was tickled with myself,
That Death was close behind me.
Let's be prepared, I used to say,
E're in the Dark we launch us:
And so with boding day by day
I kept me coffin-conscious.
Then came that winter dark as doom,
No firing wood had I;
My shack was icy as a tomb
And I was set to die.
But e'er the losing of my wits
I saw that coffin there,
S smashing the damned thing to bits
I made a gorgeous flare.
I never saw a flame so bright,
So goldenly divine,
As starred the blackness of the night
That boneyard box of mine.
And now I go forth coffin-shy,
With no more carnal fears,
For radiantly sure am I
I'll stack a hundred years.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Harder Than A Coffin Nail
Harden than a coffin nail
Bend the heaven up into hell
Harden than a coffin nail
Hahahahahaha
Harden than a coffin nail
Harden than a coffin nail
Harden than a coffin nail
Harden than a coffin nail
Hahahaha
Harden than a coffin nail
Hahahahaha
Harden than a coffin nail
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song performed by by Papa Roach
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the Dead of night
In the dead of night, a Sufi began to weep.
He said, 'This world is like a closed coffin, in which
We are shut and in which, through our ignorance,
We spend our lives in folly and desolation.
When Death comes to open the lid of the coffin,
Each one who has wings will fly off to Eternity,
But those without will remain locked in the coffin.
So, my friends, before the lid of this coffin is taken off,
Do all you can to become a bird of the Way to God;
Do all you can to develop your wings and your feathers.'
poem by Farid ud-Din Attar Abu Hamid bin Abu Bakr Ibrahim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inside That Coffin
Inside that coffin
It is where family wisdom comes from
Where we have been parented
Where a minority of this family rest.
INSIDE THAT COFFIN
It is where the beloved one rest
For god have sent her there
Where she thirst no more
INSIDE THAT COFFIN
A silver rest inside
Thou its inside is filled with darkness
INSIDE THAT COFFIN
I have proven
Every dark cloud, there is a silver lining.
poem by Nengovhela Murendeni
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Old Miser and his 3rd Wife
1
The Old Miser
my husband is dying
and he makes me promise
I must put all his money in his coffin
when he dies
“O my legal third wife
the only one surviving -
you must put all my money
secretly in my coffin”
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
You made me suffer all my life
and now in your death
you want to bring away all the money
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
2
Now, he’s dead
and I’ve arranged for his funeral
and while everyone’s busy
with all these preparations
I dutifully take all his money
from the hiding place
which he whispered to me
with his last breath
and he bit my ear and he snarled:
“Put all my money
in my coffin”
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
You made me suffer all my life
and now in your death
you want to bring all the money away
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
3
So I take all his money
and bring it to the bank
and deposit it in my name
and make a cheque out for 10 million
and put the cheque below his head
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
You made me suffer all my life
and now in your death
you can take all the money away
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coffin Car
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car.
People watching her with tender eyes,
Friends whispering in kindly words,
Children running, waving hands,
Telling each other, how pretty she is.
Coffin car, she likes to ride a coffin car.
Friends making ways for the first time,
People throwing kisses for the first time,
Showering flowers, ringing bells,
Telling each other, how nice she is.
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car.
Wives showing tears for the first time,
Husband taking their hats off for the first time,
Crushing their handkerchiefs, rubbing their nose,
Telling each other, how good she is.
Half the world is dead anyway,
The other half is asleep.
And life is killing her,
Telling her to join the dead.
So evry day, she likes to ride a coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
Pretending she was dead.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Coffin Car
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car.
People watching her with tender eyes,
Friends whispering in kindly words,
Children running, waving hands,
Telling each other, how pretty she is.
Coffin car, she likes to ride a coffin car.
Friends making ways for the first time,
People throwing kisses for the first time,
Showering flowers, ringing bells,
Telling each other, how nice she is.
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car.
Wives showing tears for the first time,
Husband taking their hats off for the first time,
Crushing their handkerchiefs, rubbing their nose,
Telling each other, how good she is.
Half the world is dead anyway,
The other half is asleep.
And life is killing her,
Telling her to join the dead.
So evry day, she likes to ride a coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
Pretending she was dead.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Demised Creature
So far beneath the surface
The coffin surrounding
Air slowly escaping
Mouth going dry
Eyes glazing over
The dream feels surreal
Crying out so loud
No one hears a thing
Ignoring her every scream
Blood in her veins slow
Skin peals from her pink cheeks
They were the death of her
Where have you been?
Your late to my funeral
How could you?
When you put me in this coffin
My life was nothing
Not even a tear of remorse
You broke me down
Brought me back as a creature
heartless, soulless, breathless
Then my existence was ripped
Just kill me, put me out
My flame has already died
Where have you been?
Your late to my funeral
How could you?
When you put me in this coffin
poem by Jennifer Ottinger
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alias Bill
We bore him to his boneyard lot
One afternoon at three;
The clergyman was on the spot
To earn his modest fee.
We sprinkled on his coffin ld
The customary loam,
And so old Bill was snugly slid
To his last home.
A lonesome celebate we thought,
For close as clam was he;
We never guessed that he had got
A lawful family,
Till lo! we saw a gorgeous wreath
Reposing on his bier,
With on a scarlet scroll beneath:
"To Father Dear."
He ordered it hisself, they said,
Before he had to go.
His folks don't know that he is dead -
Maybe they'll never know.
His step was frail, his hair was grey,
But though his sight was dim,
He liked to kid hisself that they
Still thought of him.
Maybe they did: we never knew,
And he would never tell;
Perhaps their hearts were broken too -
His was, I think . . . Ah well,
We left him in the boneyard lot
With none to shed a tear,
And just a wreath, the one he bought:
"To Father Dear."
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Nailed Coffin - Life? English & Japanese
Coffin pounded nails
Economy of air
Survive, never complain!
No wasting any air
Be happy you still have
the freedom's scent!
With own blood
-color of love
feel free to paint
on the coffin walls
a million hearts!
a mountain, a river
a sea, the sky,
whole world! !
Keep happy, smile:
-only a coffin, could not
make you feel alone,
Right? ! ?
釘 打 た れ た 棺 桶 - 人 生 ？
釘 を 打 た れ た 棺 桶
空 気 の 節 約
生 き 残 れ 、 不 平 を 言 わ ず に ！
わ ず か な 空 気 も 無 駄 に す る こ と な く
自 由 の 香 り を 感 じ れ る だ け
あ り が た く 思 え ！
自 ら の 血 で
-愛 の 色
ど う ぞ 自 由 に お 描 き な さ い
棺 桶 の 壁 に
百 万 の 心 臓 を ！
山 、 川
海 、 空
す べ て の 世 界 を ！
ず っ と 幸 せ に 、 笑 顔 で ：
-た か が 棺 桶 な ん か で
孤 独 を 感 じ る こ と な ん て な い
そ う で し ょ う ？ ！ ？
poem by Elena Sandu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where’s Grandad
The hearse had been booked at the Co-op
for the Friday before the Goose Fair.
We paid for a top notch send off,
with a carriage and six to bear.
The hearse was well behind schedule
on the morning we were burying grandad.
The wind was howling and the sky was dark,
and it began to rain quite bad.
The coffin lay on the front room table
with the flag and white lilies on top.
My dad was anxiously twitching the curtains
until he saw the carriage and horses stop.
It had finally arrived to take grandad
to his resting place in the ground.
Six solemn bearers came into the house
and they never made a sound.
In the hearse they carefully placed the coffin,
then returned to their seating places.
But then they galloped off down the street
leaving us with rain soaked faces.
We ran to our cars and tried to catch up,
but the traffic lights didn’t go our way.
The next time we saw the shiny oak coffin
was by the grave, with the vicar about to pray.
Under umbrellas we gathered and watched
as the coffin was slowly lowered down.
Well after all that it didn’t turn out so bad,
except that we were at the burial of a Mrs Brown.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Satin In A Coffin
You were laying on the carpet
like you're satin in a coffin.
You said, "Do you believe what you're sayin'?"
Yeah right now, but not that often.
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
God I sure hope you are dead.
Well you disappeared so often
like you dissolved into coffee.
Are you here right now
or are there probably fossils under your meat?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
God I sure hope you are dead.
Now the blow's been softened,
since the air we breathe's our coffin.
Well now the blow's been softened,
since the ocean is our coffin.
Often times you know our laughter
is your coffin ever after.
And you know the blow's been softened,
since the world is our coffin.
Well now the blow's been softened
since we are our own damn coffins.
Well everybody's talkin' about their short lists.
Everybody's talkin' about death.
You were laying on the carpet
like you're satin in a coffin.
You said, "Do you believe what you're sayin'?"
Yeah right now, but not that often.
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
God, I sure hope you are dead.
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small White Coffin.
The mourners come,
Each one set out
Along the way
From chapel door
To where the small
White coffin lies
And preacher stands.
One small red rose
Upon the lid,
To tell of love
And show the grief
Of baby dead
Which lies beneath
The coffin's wood
Which was a tree
And proudly stood
But now it holds
Like vessel womb
A baby child
Within its tomb.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My own funeral, I'd like to be laid out in a coffin in my own house. I would like my coffin to be put in the double parlor, and I would like all the flowers to be white.
I Dance..Without Music
Life is a dance which leads each one of us to the ultimate truth-Death. Here I am traveling towards my coffin, not walking but dancing. Without music, without obliged to any defined rhythm, I am inching towards it, towards my coffin. Throughout my dancing once again I am watching everything...
I am dancing without music
Dancing without definite steps
Without a rhythm and melody
Dancing towards the coffin
Daylight creeping away streets
Through the deserted ferries
Windless deserts and silence
I am dancing without music
Through colorless dreams
Through unspoken whispers
Through cemeteries
I am dancing without music
I am dancing without music
Dancing without definite steps
without a rhythm and melody
Dancing towards the coffin
Without wearing glass shoes
Without a stockings
Without feeling bleeding feet
I am dancing without music
Through burned gardens
Through spring never visited valleys
Through silence filled emptiness
I am dancing without music
I am dancing without music
Dancing without definite steps
Without a rhythm and melody
Dancing towards the coffin
poem by Raj Thampi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reconciliation
WORD over all, beautiful as the sky!
Beautiful that war, and all its deeds of carnage, must in time be
utterly lost;
That the hands of the sisters Death and Night, incessantly softly
wash again, and ever again, this soil'd world:
... For my enemy is dead--a man divine as myself is dead;
I look where he lies, white-faced and still, in the coffin--I draw
near;
I bend down, and touch lightly with my lips the white face in the
coffin.
poem by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Learned To Stutter/coffin Car
Recorded live 3 june 1973 at the first international feminist conference, harvard university, cambridge, ma.
While john is setting up the amp...
What happened to me was that I was living as an artist and, who had relative freedom
As a woman and was considered the bitch in the society.
Since I met john, I was upgraded into a witch and I was...and I think that thats very flattering.
Anyway, what I learned from being with john is that the society solely treated me as a woman, as a woman who belonged to a man who is one of the most powerful people in our generation, and some of his closest friends told me that probably I should stay in the background, I should shut up, I should give up my work and that way Ill be happy.
And I got those advises, I was luck, I was over thirty and it was too late for me to change,
But still, still, this is one thing I want to say, sisters, because, with the wish that you know
Youre not alone, i...because the whole society started to attack me and the whole society wished me dead, I started accumulating a tremendous amount of guilt complex and in result of that I started to stutter. and I consider myself a very eloquent woman and also an attractive woman all my life and suddenly, because I was associated to john, that was considered an ugly woman, ugly jap, who took your monument or something away from you.
And thats when I realised how hard it is for woman, if I can start to stutter, being a strong woman and having lived thirty years by then, learn to stutter in three years of being treated as such, it is a very hard road.
Now the next song is called coffin car and this is a song that I observed in myself and also in many sisters who are riding on coffin cars.
Okay
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car,
She likes to ride a coffin car.
People watching her with tender eyes,
Friends whispering in kindly words,
Children running, waving hands,
Telling each other, how pretty she is.
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car,
She likes to ride a coffin car.
Friends making ways for the first time,
People throwing kisses for the first time,
Showering flowers, ringing bells,
Telling each other, how nice she is.
Coffin car, she likes to ride a coffin car,
Shes riding a coffin car.
Wives showing tears for the first time,
Husbands taking their hats off for the first time,
Crushing their handkerchiefs, rubbing their nose,
Telling each other, how good she is.
Half the world is dead anyway,
The other half is asleep.
And life is killing her,
Telling her to join the dead.
So evry day, she likes to ride a coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
Pretending she was dead.
Coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Tara's Halls
A MAN I praise that once in Tara's Hals
Said to the woman on his knees, 'Lie still.
My hundredth year is at an end. I think
That something is about to happen, I think
That the adventure of old age begins.
To many women I have said, ''Lie still,''
And given everything a woman needs,
A roof, good clothes, passion, love perhaps,
But never asked for love; should I ask that,
I shall be old indeed.'
Thereon the man
Went to the Sacred House and stood between
The golden plough and harrow and spoke aloud
That all attendants and the casual crowd might hear.
'God I have loved, but should I ask return
Of God or woman, the time were come to die.'
He bade, his hundred and first year at end,
Diggers and carpenters make grave and coffin;
Saw that the grave was deep, the coffin sound,
Summoned the generations of his house,
Lay in the coffin, stopped his breath and died.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Reburying the skeleton
A skeleton thought it time for his wake,
He was in fact a hundred years too late,
Since he was unaware of his mistake,
He went off in search of his old flatmate,
When he found his way to the right address,
The occupant sadly abhorred her guest,
She gave out a scream to show her distress,
And people came to inspect the unrest,
They deemed that they did not quite like his kind,
And then schemed to bring about his demise,
One of the men hit him hard from behind,
Then took him to where they thought it most wise,
They then went about reburying him,
So as to confine him to his coffin,
But in their haste they left out a forelimb,
So had to open the coffin again.
poem by Christian Lacdael
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dullard In The Coffin
A dullard fuels my coffin and everything,
Palatial winds solidify as they swiftly pass;
It is paramount key to knowledge, the wisdom
Of all that sustains the shreds of evidence.
The grave is fought over by the dying and weak,
Counter to the blessings of the happier sort.
They emulsify to speak, in their homestead
Where happiness begins and ceases forever.
A jester may appear to cure the mastership
I gain, and receive to expel the deaths.
Metres of yearning curse the years, they unwind
In the hills of yearning and years.
A coffin is subdued by the threats and bouts
Opened by the livers of death.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Waiting For Magic
kiss me baby i'm snowwhite
sleeping in a coffin
waiting for you/waiting for magic
baby i'm snowwhite
sleeping in a coffin
waiting for you/waiting for magic
a man of the world but lost in a dream
you look at something from a different angle
but i exist i'm waiting for you
in a coffin made of glass
kiss me baby i'm attractive
baby get to know me
show who you are
give me that magic
baby i'm eternal
lying in a coffin
waiting for you
in your dream a girl is dancing
close to you (that girl is me)
once a witch made her sleep
but a prince will wake her up it's you
kiss me baby...
in the tale is the place to find her
reach out to get to know her
it means so much to me
the meaning of the book
o kiss me baby wake me up
o kiss me baby wake me up
join in the story of the fairytale
believe the dream you will not fail
o kiss me baby wake me up
kiss me baby...
waiting for magic it's what i do
waiting for magic for me and you to kiss me
baby wake me up
caught in a dream how lucky you are
you can see me i'm the girl behind you
so open your eyes and turn around
and watch me dancing join the fairytales
kiss me baby...
you cannot reach her on the planet
that the scientists want to call the earth
but if you use your imagination
you will see her
you will find her in your dreams
i see now shadows in my dreams
it is something so romantic
i can tell it's for real you'll see
song performed by by Ace Of Base
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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