Help... I need a poem about loss

[HRKRT]

right basically, my aunt died of cancer in January and tonight we are having a get together dinner amongst myself and the extended family. My mum just sprang on me that we might each have to talk about a memory or read a poem or something like that.

In fact one of the earliest memories I have of her is her getting me to read stories and poems to her kids when i was young, because i used to have a good memory and memorise lots of poems that i read. (wish this was still the case, need to stop blazing lol)


so im trying to find a poem about loss, but really coming to terms with it. Any advice?

[ashley]

actually.

[ashley]

Funerals are to celebrate the life of someone remember, even if it's a sad day.

How about a short story about the good times you had to lift the mood of the occasion?

[ashley]

Or talk to Sd5..

[HRKRT]

was going to do that, but just wanted a nice poem to wrap it up as well... just because that was one of my earlier memories, and she loved poetry.

not really about grieving or loss, but more overcoming it if you get what i mean

sd5 is definitely the most poetic amongst us. i always read his posts a couple of times to let it settle in

[nicenice]

If you write one yourself, it'll mean more.

[HRKRT]

i might do Shakespeare sonnet 30, i remember this one from doing a levels. nice and short so i can talk a little before it, and ends on a light note.


When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoanèd moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.

[ashley]

If you write one yourself, it'll mean more.

And it doesn't have to rhyme

[HRKRT]

If you write one yourself, it'll mean more.

i wish i could but i only found out today

if i had a couple of days, or i wasnt at work i would do. if i dont spend enough time on it i would be far too self conscious.

[nicenice]

Try, think about it when you can. When your stuck for thought. Take inspiration from the day.

[the acid never lies]

It's probably not really appropriate but my favourite poem on the subject is one written by E.E. Cummings for his father's funeral. It was meant to be a celebration of his life, and really is one of the more bizarre poems I've read. Here's the last few stanzas:

My father moved through theys of we,
singing each new leaf out of each tree
(and every child was sure that spring
danced when she heard my father sing)

then let men kill which cannot share,
let blood and flesh be mud and mire,
scheming imagine,passion willed,
freedom a drug that's bought and sold

giving to steal and cruel kind,
a heart to fear,to doubt a mind,
to differ a disease of same,
conform the pinnacle of am

though dull were all we taste as bright,
bitter all utterly things sweet,
maggoty minus and dumb death
all we inherit,all bequeath

and nothing quite so least as truth
—i say though hate were why man breathe—
because my father lived his soul
love is the whole and more than all

[HRKRT]

decided to write my own sonnet; realised me being at work is not an excuse since i spend my own working day here anyway

EDIT: thanks for your help though guys

[HRKRT]

ok decided to post it up here, just because id really appreciate any sort of feedback or criticism to make it flow a bit better. its a sonnet, and follows traditional Shakespearean sonnet rules. and if anyone thinks the other i posted better please say its not a competition or anything i just wanted to read a nice poem.



Cankerous apple, plucked by farmers hand
your passing i shall mourn
No fulfillment of what had been planned
taken too early, before the dawn
Crimson leaf, collapsed to the ground
separated from your family of branches
No cure from autumn can be found
From the throes of winter, no chances
But thoughts of time gone will never erode
For in my mind I have chosen
To remember the times in which you glowed
And hold them tight, frozen
Because our memories shall never rot
Nina Sidhu, always loved; never forgot


thanks guys

[64hz]

i love the imagery of the seasonal cycle, it evokes thoughts of the cyle of birth > life > death i.e spring > summer > winter.
the ineveblity of death in 'no cure...' yet the fact that your loved one lives on in memories and past times is made clear, and offers consolation.
theres no way i can critiscise this , as its personal but imo youve written a brilliant poem.

[the acid never lies]

That's nice man I'd stick with it unless you come up with anything yourself that you'd like to change

[HRKRT]

thanks guys means a lot

wish i could use iambic pentameter so it flowed a bit better

i like writing sonnets though its fun making them meet that structure

[Ennayess]

"My Nanie's Awa" by Robert Burns

Now in her green mantle blythe Nature arrays,
And listens the lambkins that bleat o'er her braes;
While birds warble welcomes in ilka green shaw,
But to me it's delightless-my Nanie's awa.

The snawdrap and primrose our woodlands adorn,
And violetes bathe in the weet o' the morn;
They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw,
They mind me o' Nanie- and Nanie's awa.

Thou lav'rock that springs frae the dews of the lawn,
The shepherd to warn o' the grey-breaking dawn,
And thou mellow mavis that hails the night-fa',
Give over for pity-my Nanie's awa.

Come Autumn, sae pensive, in yellow and grey,
And soothe me wi' tidings o' Nature's decay:
The dark, dreary Winter, and wild-driving snaw
Alane can delight me-now Nanie's awa.

[dubfordessert]

wow i have this exact problem my mum just gave me a card to write something on and i have no idea what to write. i have to go to bed in like 2 hours and the funeral is in the morning. i dont want to write anything but she'll get mad if i dont

only thing i can think of is "what will survive of us is love" but thats the most hackneyed shit ever. part of me would even rather write out This Be The Verse lmao (fuck thats hackneyed as hell too, they need to take larkin off english syllabuses)

my favourite poets are john keats, ee cummings, sylvia plath, wilfred owen. looking through owen poems now but i can't quite get them to fit

maybe i should just like write fucking colon open bracket or some shit

eurgh

[firky]

death is nothing at all. i have only slipped away into the next room. i am i, and you are you. whatever we were to each other, that we still are. call me by my old familiar name, speak to me in the easy way you always used to. put no difference in your tone, wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. play, smile, think of me, pray for me. let my name be ever the household word that it always was, let it be spoken without effort, no trace of a shadow on it. life means all that it ever meant. it is the same as it ever was. there is unbroken continuity. why should i be out of mind because i am out of sight? i am waiting for you, somewhere very near. just around the corner. all is well.

-- Henry Scott Holland 1847 - 1918, Canon of St Paul's, London

[dubfordessert]

hmmm I am going to use some lyrics from Radiohead - Videotape or Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here