Haiku Poems About Funerals | Funeral Haiku Poems

Haiku poems about Funerals and Funeral haiku poems. Read and enjoy these haikus! See also Funeral Quotes.

What would you do if you knew this was my last day to live??
Would you try and save or let me go?
Would you even care for my soul?
What would you do if I was a fallen angel?
Would you still recognize me?
Would you talk to me or ignore me?
What would you do if I died?
Would you have a funeral for me, so all my friends & family could come?
Would you cry or even mourn a 'lil bit?
Would you care that I was gone, or would be happy?
What would you do if I was a ghost?
Would you feel me right beside you, guarding you, Watching over you, protecting you?
Would you see me?
Tell me would you walk all over me, or maybe even walk through me, as if I weren't there?
What would you do if I was a demon?
Would you still love me then?
Would you still care and forgive me?
Would you just say "You are stupid, and I hate you?"
What would you do if I were and angel?
Would you love me more, or would you love me less?
Would you feel me touch you, and comfort you when you need someone and you think noone is there for you, well that's a lie, cause I am right here beside you to catch you if you fall, to dry your tears, and to heal your wounds of any kind.
What would you do if I was still alive?
Would you continue to hate me, and call me sadistic names?
Would this world still be cruel?
Would there still be a rule?
What would you do?
Always~N~Forever,
Briana Lynn Palmer
Finished:08-07-11
9:42P.M.
age: 14

A black cloud bleating
Over a trembling tree top
Calls swallows to play.
               2
Wet thunder drums light
On the sizzled skin of air
My lungs beat like wings
               3
This is September
Neptune's children play with glee
On earth's anxiety
               4
Africa's revenge 
Is full of hot air driving
The sea to black rage
               5
The winds come dancing
The funeral song of trees
Silenced in the clouds
               6
The storm turns its eye
Into the sun's white vortex
And shed some black tears
               7
A lone swallow flies
Skipping spindles of loud rain
Etched upon my eyes

3 old men
sit in funeral home
alone

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 burialAttending a funeral recently taught me this very essence of Life