Earth, To You I Mourn
Friend and foe
Blood and tears i pour.
Long did thee decay in waste,
Twigs and shells in funeral of fate.
Out were my heart
In darkness and no light.
Lost we in this spherical ditch,
Funeral of sadness and anguish,
Let me, unconsoled and let me wish.
Let me bathe myself in tears,
No more can i bear these fears.
Clotheth in nothing but sack
Oh! am I now lank.
Cry out in quail,
On mournin' we sail
Let our ship sing a song of dirge,
Drop by the seashore and feed on sedge.
Permed my hairs in ash,
Silked my soul in thresh.
poem by Ugoh Ifeanyi
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Related quotes
The Beautiful Suicide Of Night
Drowning in ice coated tears,
Watching my world crumble around me,
A deep and everlasting darkness envelopes me,
As once more the path to love evades me,
Sadness eats away at every part of me,
Yet I know that love is both necessary and futile,
Too often love is the place where sadness prevails,
The song in my heart has become a funeral dirge,
Blackened wings envelope all that I have become,
A poison of hatred flows throughout my veins,
It chills my soul like a harsh winters day,
Will I ever breathe in the light of day again?
Addicted as I am, to the beautiful suicide of the night...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Night Funeral in Harlem
Night funeral
In Harlem:
Where did they get
Them two fine cars?
Insurance man, he did not pay--
His insurance lapsed the other day--
Yet they got a satin box
for his head to lay.
Night funeral
In Harlem:
Who was it sent
That wreath of flowers?
Them flowers came
from that poor boy's friends--
They'll want flowers, too,
When they meet their ends.
Night funeral
in Harlem:
Who preached that
Black boy to his grave?
Old preacher man
Preached that boy away--
Charged Five Dollars
His girl friend had to pay.
Night funeral
In Harlem:
When it was all over
And the lid shut on his head
and the organ had done played
and the last prayers been said
and six pallbearers
Carried him out for dead
And off down Lenox Avenue
That long black hearse done sped,
The street light
At his corner
Shined just like a tear--
That boy that they was mournin'
Was so dear, so dear
To them folks that brought the flowers,
To that girl who paid the preacher man--
It was all their tears that made
That poor boy's
Funeral grand.
Night funeral
In Harlem.
poem by Langston Hughes
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Tears We Cry
Tears we cry, tears we cry
Sometimes tears Kalahari dry
Tears we cry, tears we cry
For others many tears
In us for us many fears
For us we haven't tears
Their aches hurt so
But our heartaches hurt too
Why then do we for theirs cry so?
Mine tears don't for me flow
Tears for they my mind blow
Like a virgin turn whore
Went to a funeral
Of a relation to my fellow
How my heart felt hollow
In my gran'pa's requiem
I cried, but not a single scream
Friends spiced my cry like cream
We have wells for their tears
And deserts for our fears' tears
Tears we cry, for they that we cry
poem by David Munene wa Kimberly
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Clear Vibrant Stars
I watch listen to the singer
singing the same old song
this is rhythm of life’s rhyme
but heart morbid is not sublime
these tears you bear are planted
too deep in absolute despair
drowning in own blood bleeding
is siren song none should hear
soul singing life’s praise
must search out star light
search out moon light not
mists of dark deadly night
Given the choice would you
bathe in waters happy or sad tears?
Mystic choice interesting question?
Bathe in cold warm or hot tears?
Me the tears of a pretty girl
the tears that made her happy.
Remember even when it is cloudy
clear vibrant stars are still shining.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Father Ed
The day of his ordination his widowed mum's happiest day
To Sainthood she said my son is on his way
She raised him on her own when his dad of a heart attack died
Of her only offspring she took so much pride
At sixty eight he died in his sleep with his mum he now lay
At his funeral this morning his Parishioners for his soul did pray
He had been their Parish Priest for more than twenty years
And they did farewell him in sadness and tears
Of their Parish Priests the greatest of all
His sunday sermons on morals and chastity they will long recall
But the saddest one at the funeral was his housekeeper Kate
With head bowed as she sobbed she whispered I have lost my soul-mate
To me he was far more than Parish Priest Father Ed
He was my secret lover and he was damn good in bed.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I still couldnt cry
Its always too hard say a final goodbye
But I haven’t found time to really cry
Dad beside me wears a dark tie
No suit like others but he did really try
Its so hard to go through a funeral not cry
Dad’s lost his soul mate gone I sadly sigh
As he heavily weeps saying bye bye
I hug hold dad tight but cant meet his eye
As hiding my pain inside my tears I force dry
Mozarts clarinet music through the air softly fly
I fight tears thinking ‘keep composure’ this I try
Angrily wiping away tears starting in my eye
I can’t crack now others I must support I must fight tears try
But it’s hard to know now I did not really cry
To dry my tears maybe I didn’t love enough is imply
I didn’t mean disrespect only having non flowing tears in my eye
I feel huge guilt and pain at my tears forced again dry
And at your funeral I couldn’t even allow myself to cry
I'm Searching My Heart......
I sing a song in tears,
And the song to reach hers,
And get back my heart.
I'm searching my heart
That I lost when I was with her:
She came unto me;
Still I remember her steps.
I sing a song in tears,
And the song to reach hers,
And get back my heart.
She sat beside me;
Still I feel her presence,
She spoke with me;
Still I remember her words.
I sing a song in tears,
And the song to reach hers,
And get back my heart.
She wept for me;
Still I don't know why,
She lulled me to sleep,
Still I am in her lullaby.
I sing a song in tears,
And the song to reach hers,
And get back my heart.
I hear the notes of songsters,
And the babble of streams;
But not the pulse of my heart,
I weep unto the clouds,
I cry unto the zephyr;
But they all left me at sea.
I swim into the sea fast
Hoping to find my heart.
I sing a song in tears,
And the song to reach hers,
And get back my heart.
poem by MBJ Pancras
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Christian Love
Oh, Father! when the soften'd heart
Is lifted up in prayer to thee,
When earthly thoughts awhile depart,
And leave the mounting spirit free—
Then teach us that our love, like thine,
O'er all the realms of earth should flow,
A shoreless stream, a flood divine,
To bathe and heal the heart of woe.
Then Afric's son shall hear no more
The tyrant's in the Christian's name;
Nor tears of wasting anguish pour
Unpitied, o'er his life of shame;
But taught to love thee, by the love
That bids his long-worn fetters break,
He, too, shall lift his soul above,
And serve thee for thy mercy's sake.
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Funeral Song
Who will sing the funeral songs of mine?
O my dear heart
Think and observe all the elements
Than answers the question truly
Who will sing the songs of funeral for you?
Who will congratulate you on your ultimate success.
I sing the song of love,
The songs of my heart,
The ultimate pronounce for the sake of love.
Then who will sing the songs of my innocence heart
When all the songs of mine will stop for ever.
Lives comes, lives goes,
Death gives birth of new souls.
Behold the history of the love
The heart which processes the love
Acquire the immortality of heart.
Behold the history of love,
The heart which can love like those
Achieves the immortality of soul.
Only for the ability to worship the heart of love
Those can’t attain by any eternal senses.
Only the nominated, elected and selected souls
By the mercy of Heaven
Can have the power to love.
Love, earnestly love thy souls
And in return you will have the love.
The love will as sanctified as the love of you,
The love will concern with heart
As much as concern with your heart.
The heart will sing the funeral song for you,
The love will sing the love song for you,
The love will make you alive
In the mortal days of lives,
Worship your heart,
Remember your songs,
Nothing else nor the others
But only love, only love.
Only the love can survive you
After the thousands years of your death.
Though died, possesses a newer mortal life
I perceive the fact, I do perceive of fact.
The love will sing for you
I do confidently declare by the Lord’s name
The love will congratulate at your conquer
The love will sing the joyous song of your joy.
O love,
O the love,
I know, I hear and I behold.
The love,
The eco of love,
The alliteration of love.
I heed the echoes of love
From the origin of soul
To the present day of the life
From Adam to the computer.
I hear the echo,
I do hear the echo.
O the loving soul
Hold your ear in the air,
You also have the sound of the echo,
The sacred echo – love, love and love.
The love will sing the song for my funeral,
The love will congratulate me
With heartiest affection of love,
The love will remember me in the earth,
The love will give a newer birth of mine
After the death of my earthen form.
I do proud in this sense
I have the heart
And I have the potency,
The mighty Lord’s mercy
To love, to love earnestly.
The love, the ability to love,
This love will sing my funeral song
And alive me in this earth
Until the last day of the light of the sun.
I sing for this love,
I do sing for this love.
poem by Md. Moniruzzaman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Republic
Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State!
Sail on, O Union, strong and great!
Humanity with all its fears
With all the hopes of future years,
Is hanging breathless on the fate!
We know what Master laid the keel,
What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel,
Who made each mast, and sail, and rope,
What anvils rang, what hammers beat,
In what forge and what a heat
Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Fear not each sudden sound and shock,
'Tis of the wave and not the rock;
'Tis but the flapping of the sail,
And not a rent made by the gale!
In spite of rock and tempest's roar,
In spite of false lights on the shore,
Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea!
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee, - are all with thee!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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O Ship of State
Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State!
Sail on, O Union, strong and great!
Humanity with all its fears,
With all the hopes of future years,
Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
We know what Master laid thy keel,
What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel,
Who made each mast, and sail, and rope,
What anvils rang, what hammers beat,
In what a forge and what a heat
Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Fear not each sudden sound and shock,
'Tis of the wave and not the rock;
'Tis but the flapping of the sail,
And not a rent made by the gale!
In spite of rock and tempest's roar,
In spite of false lights on the shore,
Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea!
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee.
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee, -are all with thee!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Amazing Grace Sonnet
I heard the song; Amazing Grace,
This song resounds deep in my heart
and happy tears pour down my face,
You made me Yours, set me apart.
I was in chains, but now I'm free,
I was a slave to sin and fears,
lost at the bottom of the sea,
You picked me up and whipped my tears.
With You, I'll walk a few more steps,
To know You, God, is grace alone,
I'll put my feet in Your footsteps
until I hear, My Child, come home.
And then I'll sing, Amazing Grace,
With Him at Home, at my New Place.
poem by Marius Alexandru (March 2022)
Submitted by anonym
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An Agonised Prayer
Death was prowling
from funeral to funeral.
No shadow will be spared today.
I am not ready yet for the final curtain.
Bullets have left some clocks
ticking in the pockets of time.
I shall call the leader
who is hiding behind the scriptures.
Don’t choose the destiny.
Don’t commit the date.
Anguish itself will find the path.
What was wrong with the earth?
It has stopped moving,
the stars are drifting away.
Another explosion in the sun?
I don’t know.
This world is heavy with pain.
Rivers are flooded with blood and tears
and I am roaming in the jungle of lies.
Are you listening?
poem by Satish Verma
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When I Heard That You Died
I couldn’t bring myself to go to your funeral.
I couldn’t look at your lifeless body, because it wasn’t you.
It was an empty shell, the empty shell of my best friend.
I couldn’t look at your peaceful face without crying, and I had cried enough.
I cried a lifetimes worth of tears when I heard that you died.
So, I couldn’t bring myself to go to your funeral.
But I did go down to the river, remember?
Where we liked to play and relax when we were younger.
I went down to the river and threw a flower in the water.
I watched it get sucked under and dragged away, and I thought of you flying up to heaven.
A brief smile crossed my face, until the tears once again began to cloud my vision.
Happy you are safe, but sad to say goodbye.
So, it turns out, even though I couldn’t bring myself to go to your funeral,
The tears will come, and will always come when I think about this day.
The day when I heard that you died.
poem by Rachel Brewer
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Come, Sail Away With Me
Come, sail away with me
So i can sing a song for you
It would be a song of love
A love so deep, unfathomable
A love that will never die and end
If only i can sing a song for you
It will be a song to keep me going
A song of hope not fear
A song of faith to bear
So come, sail away with me
A song for you, my friend
Will be a soft, haunting one
A melody of strength, of trust
That's why I am here for you
A song that i am going to sing
If God wanted me for you to bring.
poem by Meggie Gultiano
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The Grave Digger
I am a quite, humble, honest and very generous man
who likes to aid people around as much as I can
And I should not be utterly despised for my vocation
Just because I am a grave digger by profession
Indeed, I do not desire or wish the dead
People should live long and loved side by side
Pure life with no baseness, shame or sin to hide
But if no one dies how shall I pay my debts I dread
I pray and mourn any human that rests below
And as the grasses in the cemetery wave
I passionately take care of every stone grave
In passing the dirt and dust I blow
I never wrong a grave with fears and tears untrue
Nor can I be blamed for carrying on my job with no faith
There must be wisdom and sense in death
Life cannot continue forever, once all must be thru
And yet people find but faults in my case
I have never been saluted in friendly grace
They pass me by without leaving any embrace
In a sublime whisper: Here come the funeral face
For I am near you when your light is in halt
when the blood creeps, and the nerves tingle and prick
And the heart heavily throbs; it is tattered and sick
And all the world comes to a close; the wheels of being thwart
Come at night within the cemetery walls
When the moon light shines on time wracked stones
Those who lie with legacies and dreams dead unborn
As the lunar splendor stretches shadows as it falls
Those who lie beneath their fancies and fears
when alive sorrow and grief dug deepening down
And with muffled motions blindly drown
The agony and anguish of their life in tears.
People hate me with deep rancor and loath
Because I am a grave digger in truthful oath
And I am upset full of anguish and misery
Impossible to get a friend, were it not better not to be
Cant they understand all human things are subject to decay
Life do not go forever upon the land
For every beginning there is an end
When fate summons, even monarchs must obey
We all as humans of any color or faith
Hold common scorn and defame to eternal death
The creaking sound of cords lowering us down
As earth returns back to earth with no rising dawn
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A Song For My Funeral
A Song For My Funeral
when they buried him
a young boy
in a cardboard box
somewhere in the green mountain
there was a song nobody knew
there was a song
unknown and unsung
I know the song
it has been silent for many years
buried in an unmarked grave
a dead boy does not age
I shall be writing the song
for my funeral to come
it will be there
for you to sing
wherever you are
Suchoon Mo
- Lucid Rhythms, issue 2, June 2008 -
poem by Suchoon Mo_
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Another Song to Sing (Second Draft)
When the night is long and dark and cold
And there's nobody around for you to hold,
Don't forget, whatever night may bring,
Tomorrow is another song to sing.
When the night is cold and there's nobody to hold,
When there's darkness all around you and within;
Remember there's a light at the end of every night,
And every day's another song to sing.
So try to carry on and make it through till dawn,
And listen for another song to sing.
When the clouds hang heavy and so grey
That you can't bear to face another day,
Just remember that, in spite of everything,
Every day's another song to sing.
When everything seems grey and you can't face the day,
When you just wish the world would go away;
Remember there's a spring, once winter's had its fling,
And every day's another song to sing.
When winter turns to spring, those sunny days will bring
Another brand new song for you to sing.
When your heart's been beaten black and blue
And it seems your dreams are never coming true,
Try and find something to keep believin' in,
And listen for another song to sing.
When your heart is bruised and there's nothing left to lose,
And life seems like a game you'll never win;
Remember there's a friend waiting just around the bend
With another song for you to sing.
Remember you've a friend with a song that's newly penned
Especially for you and me to sing.
Though hell should bar the way,
A friend is a friend,
well beyond the end.
Because a friend lives in the heart,
the soul,
which turns into sweet memories,
when you fall apart and lose control.
A friend, is SURELY a friend,
well beyond the end.
Because a friend shares good cheers,
through sadness and tears,
letting you know that you have a friend here.
A friend is a friend,
well beyond the end.
Because a friend is there to;
Bear pain,
bear witness to the fact that you care,
And gain,
Gain the fact that;
through sorrows, grief, and pain,
*though hell should bar the way,
share laughter and smiles,
well beyond a mile.
Because a friend can be there,
-be there.
Because a friend can be there
at any expense,
at any given time.
poem by Abigail Marie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jewish Lullaby
My harp is on the willow-tree,
Else would I sing, O love, to thee
A song of long-ago--
Perchance the song that Miriam sung
Ere yet Judea's heart was wrung
By centuries of woe.
I ate my crust in tears to-day,
As scourged I went upon my way--
And yet my darling smiled;
Ay, beating at my breast, he laughed--
My anguish curdled not the draught--
'T was sweet with love, my child!
The shadow of the centuries lies
Deep in thy dark and mournful eyes--
But, hush! and close them now;
And in the dreams that thou shalt dream
The light of other days shall seem
To glorify thy brow!
Our harp is on the willow-tree--
I have no song to sing to thee,
As shadows round us roll;
But, hush and sleep, and thou shalt hear
Jehovah's voice that speaks to cheer
Judea's fainting soul!
poem by Eugene Field
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