Haiku Poems About Funeral | Funeral Haiku Poems

Haiku poems about Funeral and Funeral haiku poems. Read and enjoy these haikus! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems or see our other Funeral Poems.

                                                   gun salute~
                                           in every fold of the flag
                                                   his sacrifices    







    

darker than raindrops
mushroom cloud blooming purple....
I can see my bones

barely pink blossoms
Vincent’s funeral blanket
lay atop his grave

Kathryn McLoughlin Collins 
July 26, 2012

on his cheek
by her graveside
one drop

Love is as love does
Peace begets peace; happy day
Unconditional 

 
green eggs on gravestones
with Easter baskets for two
I wonder aloud
 

single silver birch
overlooks the whitened head stones
priest in black waiting.

In forgetting 
I am Just az Hyde:

The who by day 
By night
Does not coincide

Cigarettes are gross.
They can really kill you too
Dead. Gone. Forever

a minute silent . . .
the cackling of a child
in the hall


the cow feeds 
on grass sprout . . .
goats bleat

her lips quiver
without making a sound...
funeral song



© kashinath karmakar 2012
====================

Placement:1st ;(March 2012)

Contest:Strictly a Stickler for Strictness (haiku)

Sponsor:Charles Henderson

A lovely lady;
Growing inside, a new life.
A man in a tux.

Another bell rings now.
Final grades, balanced college offers,
Off to another adventure.

Damp ground, headstones.
Growing inside, a new life,
Done with their adventures.

-Caroline Youngless

LOVE

Love will conquer all
those who fight it...surrender
to lose is to win

LILIES

The lilies called me
I sheltered in their flowers
a casket loomed close

BIRDS

Sirens scream at dawn
helicopters in pursuit
birds keep on singing

  
pale naked head bones
grim remains of sacrifice
the horse heads hang low
 

God gave us tears to
release the sadness that death
brings into our lives

Watched Hogan's Heroes
when i was a little child
rest in peace Bob Crane

Joe Flynn dead in pool
in it with his leg in cast
ruled a heart attack

Forget-me-nots bloom
My darling's epitaph reads
Do you hear the whippoorwill

Fourth of July..

Dead bodies, a cry
People must come back home soon…
Enough with the war!


To all of those brave men who will never be home to celebrate our Independence 
day this weekend, and the years to come!

Thoubert!

Tears stream down her face
It was so unexpected
He was in a wreck

haiku

the new coolness
without him by her side
she rakes the leaves

                                                   I sit alone
                                           At her sunlit grave site
                                             Two white butterfles

thick blanket of death

from the forest, heavy mist

lone dark horse comes.

 

(January 19, 2011  Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved

silver furrowed brow
warm streams seep through pleated seams
shrivelled folds bleached white

Past, present, future
Children of earth back to earth
Leaving our thumbprint

a lost boy asked a
stranger for help; was kidnapped,
killed and dismembered

an innocent life
snatched by evil hands ; let this 
child be  remembered

an innocent child,
a nineteen-month-old baby,
was senselessly shot;

cold drive-by shooter
killed a cherished little boy--
with a heartless plot

endless tears of pain--
as we remember the love
of this lifeless tot


*baby was not the intended target

A little boy,

Scatters flowers of purple and grey,

Where his coffin lays.

April showers 
thunder on varnished woodwork 
wormy fine dining

Mother's  looks, hung head
 
A golden casket planning
 
Grandfather is dead…

ducts swell with warm streams
silty briny residue
eroded dreams clog

The dark smoke bellows,
the fire dances to her rhythm
and humans watch on.

3 old men
sit in funeral home
alone

                                      rain begins to fall
                          sorrow borrowed from teardrops
                                   ash and dust look on







18.01.23


Joseph May's
One In Five - Poetry Contest

What has life in store?
Milk on bed and milk when dead.
Why sulk all along?




P.S.This poem is based on the Hindu customs of burial. Attending a funeral recently taught me this very essence of Life.