Threnody Poems - Poems about Threnody

What a sad day it was on the fifth day of June Death being so greedy visited Saint Francis in about noon And a beautiful sunny day was thrown into shade Man's wickedness to man makes my heart fade For Nigeria, I'm tired of daily writing a dirge But these recurrent events cause a verge of tears as we sit...

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Bent wire horizon, the day is a broken perimeter. There is light between the barbs but you have to squint, pretend the fence still holds. People flee, their knees are bruised by each narrowing dawn. The fool on the hill blames the sun in his eyes....

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Back then we could eat clouds - we were that tall, even baggy Ben (who was small for a lumpy kid), could leap over a pub door without leaving the floor. Then behind our backs a Lilliputian world crept up, it was mouse-grey, and it nibbled ferociously. I went to the South Coast to roustabout; then the lot of them chose to join the...

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May Midnight Dark Devour This Cursed Threnody May midnight dark devour this cursed threnody Sweet dreams, felled on "cusp of victory" Youthful wonderment through the heavens flew Alas! Destined was the loss of you! Cries in the dark, bevy of weeping moans. Hath frozen this heart into hardest stone! May Time into the darkest abyss cast These savage sorrows- horrors of the past And...

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The celestial light is about to go and escapes; As dawn enters, and cover it with darkness. She was able to finish mysteries, with less air to breathe. Rosary is on her side, and then closes her eyes and fall to sleep. White candles from head to foot that ignites Then I am on her side, quiet, so quiet…and bleed....

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Bare skull and cross bones existence on the peripheral outskirts of poker flats lives a slip of a man, whereat he never felt deserving accolades linkedin with appeasement, sans pat on...

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For fiercest queens, the finest pedigree, Begetter and bestower of all lauds; For foulest plagues, the fairest remedy, Despoiler and destroyer of all frauds. Revered for rectitude, renowned for laurels, You helped reform the world to honest fame; Reviled as sinister, renounced on morals, The world deformed you to mendacious shame. Now candid trade’s betrayed by blackened graft, And harmless wit’s harangued by...

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I laid my aching heart upon your grave that February day when trees were bare of life; their withered leaves fell down to brave the chill of winter death. With you they shared the frozen veins and blood of lifeless ground. And tears of icy rain helped to impart the gloom, where stillness reigned, and not a sound was heard, except the...

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I should have said this on that fateful 9th of December The year 2009 when your breath forsook the corporeal And went to roam among the gay dancing stars; And failure to say it has dealt my heart an incurable beal. I know that late is better than never as they say, So, may I not therefore carry on with...

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Here cries a young woman who recently lost her friend. She was angry with her friend; she scolded her rage, her rage did end. A voice from the dead said: ‘‘Friend! I know what I did was a great mess; I’m sorry –and to be honest, I wouldn’t ask for your pardon unless I was at peace. Where I...

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FROM HIS BRAIN POETRY FELL, FROM HIS CREATIVITY EMERGED- HE WAS YOUNG IN THE POETIC DUEL, READY TO MAKE HIS PRESENCE FELT. AND A THOUSAND POEMS READILY DROPPED AS HIS SWORD BRANDISHED HOT. HE COULD SING OUT EVERY HIS POEM AND MAKE NATURE SILENTLY WEEP. BUT ALAS! WHILE NATURE SLEPT, DEATH READILY REFUSED TO SLEEP- FOR IT CAME AROUND READY TO REAP RIGHT FROM...

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Oftentimes in a persons life certain sounds heard trigger a particular mood. The early morning sun is bright My spirit waxes with the light. So why do mourning doves still sing Woeful threnodies this morning? I hear robin’s newly hatched, cheep; I hear house sparrows young ones tweet But when I hear the doves refrain: cooOOoo-woo-woo-woooo! Sadness Overwhelms this brief cheerfulness and changes to melancholy. Why,...

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THIS IS A THRENODY, SO PLEASE SING ALONG, IT'S LIKE A VERY SAD SONG, ABOUT FOLKS WHO'S DEAD WRONG. HIS MOTHER CRIED OUT IN THE NIGHT, HIS FATHER SCREAMED IN RAGE, INSTEAD OF MAKING THINGS RIGHT, THEY INTENSIFIED THE DAZE. THIS IS THE MAYHEM, HE WITNESSED AS A CHILD, HE VIVIDLY RECALL PRAYING; QUOTING SCRIPTURES...

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Sleepless in my room, The sound of constant thunder And a ceaseless wind; Even the stars are weeping As vengeance consumes the sky. Jim Wilson...

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