appropriate poem

I read one of my own poems for my mum's funeral (or, rather. my cousin read it as I wasn't up to much that day) Wasn't very good as poetry goes but it said what i wanted it to

At my mums funeral I read 'The Darkling Thrush' by Thomas Hardy. I wanted something on that black day that spoke of 'joy illimited' despite all the evidence to the contrary.

"Do not go gentle..." is a good 'un (someone mentioned Dylan Thomas before I think) , the best villanelle ever written! I dare say, though, it's been done before.

There's a wonderful poem called "How long is a life" - uplifting, celebratory, sad and funny at the same time. I've looked all over but can't find my copy - I'll keep looking, otherwise you could google it. If I find it I'll email it.

There is a prayer used in the Masonic funeral service that is fabulous, but I'm having difficulty finding it on the web. Nothing secret about it because it is used in public services.

Three months ago I was asked to read at my best friend's funeral. It was a very religious service in an RC church. I chose a poem that was written by a churchman, a former cannon of St Paul's Cathedral, but not, of itself a religious poem. Several people at the service said it was helpful. It is at:

Obviously i was thinking of the WH Auden one,but that doesn't sound quite right.

God looked around his garden and found an empty place. He then looked down upon his earth and saw your loving face. He put his arms around you and lifted you to rest. His Garden must be beautiful, he always takes the best. He knew that you were suffering, he know you were in pain. And know that you would never get well on earth again. He saw your path was difficult, he closed your tired eyes, He whispered to you "Peace be Thine" and gave you wings to fly.

What about one of these: The Return I have come back to ancient shores where it is always now. The beautiful troubled waters breaking over the skerry On the wind in spindrift blown like lifting hair, Clouds gathering over the summits of Rhum in the clear blue Are as they were When long ago I went my way in sorrow. Time, measure of absence, is not here – In the wide present of the sky Fleet the broadcast light is already returning, while we, Who tell the hours and days by the beat of a heart Can only depart After a vanishing radiance dragging mortal feet. But joy outspeeds light’s wheel, the moments in their flight Stays, here where in patterned strands the wheel holds fast to the shore, Falls and lifts from ebb to flow Of the unceasing tide that makes all things new, And the curlew with immortal voices cry. Kathleen Raine --- The Arch The days of our life are a bridge Between night and night: And we look not on eternity But upon its light Broken into beauty, by the day And the life of men, As the day is broken on the world’s edge By the falling rain. Willian Soutar

I wrote a poem for my dad's funeral last year. I should point out his funeral hasn't happened yet, and touchwood it won't for a while yet. I think, as a person, I just like to be prepared... Now, the obligitatory acknowledgement of opportunistic self-promotion.

thank you so much for everyones help... i have chosen an edna st vincent millay poem, just to let you know. I like it, because it is simple, defiant, and not sentimental. It underlines what death is, but i think more importantly, what life gives to us all. I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground. So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind: Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned. Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you. Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust. A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew, A formula, a phrase remains,--but the best is lost. The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love, -- They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve. More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world. Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave, Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind; Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave. I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

I think that might be just you and the poet laureate then, that have funeral poems prepared in advance Paul. Does your dad know about this? There must surely be a good Dylan Thomas one. The Auden one is overexposed now, though it is excellent. Jim Crace doesn't do poems, but almost all of Being Dead is a celebration of life and the fact that death is an essential part of that. I'm also reminded of the Flaming Lips "Do you realise" - Do you realise, that you have the most, beautiful face? Do you realise, we're floating in space? And do you realise, that everyone, you know, someday, will die? And instead of saying all of your goodbyes, let them know you realise that life goes fast, it's hard to make the good things last, you realise the sun doesn't go down, it's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round

'Flaming lips' excellent choice Andrew.

Liana I'm certain you could write a brilliant one yourself, which would say all you want to say without any compromise. At the funeral I went to recently someone went round the deceasee's friends and family and collected their memories of her and fragments of opinion, read it out in church . I havent got a copy yet but it came out like a poem. Which included things like "she would walk the dog just before it rained. she borrowed my mac and brought back a different one a year later she would give away her last cigarette she did not do small talk" etc. It created a vivid picture of the person, and was funny and touching without being sentimental.

You could use this one or something along similar lines... Don't think it meets your criteria for being uplifting though.

Forgive me, but there is this one too.. Perhaps not the best written poems, but the ideas I am sure are worth exploring.... So why are poems about love and death so interchangeable?

I'd say a poem from Raymond Carver's A New Path To The Waterfall. Last Fragment, maybe. A tough one, though. [%sig%]

This was written by a cyber-mate and I am sure she would not mind you using it, if you wanted to. GUIDE Do not go from my sight. Turn into a fiery star that I can see from any place Light my way with the wisdom that I am just beginning to understand Burn bright in my heart And remind me that you are only as far as me looking up. Like it was when I was small. Every once in a while, Let me know that better things are waiting by crossing the sky and leaving a trail. Someday I`ll join you. We will shine down on those we leave behind. You were not made to stay with me forever You were only loaned to me to teach me love. When the world weighs on my shoulders and points my head to the ground I will remember the fiery brightness of you and I will look up. -jacque conarchy jconarchy@wi.rr.com

One thing's for certain: death inspires some really BAD poetry.

Liana - Bloodaxe Books' publisher Neil Astley put out a book of suitable poetry for occasions such as these earlier this year. check it out at: I think this will probably solve your problem. But i think you will write a far far better one yourself.

If you do, don't forget to let Neil Astley know!

I've never seen that before. It's a beautiful poem.

No, Andrew, by the way - he doesn't know. I only show him the stuff that gets published, and that's not THAT much. I'm not sure how he'd react. I could have got a laugh out of him when I wrote it, but now he's sick (not terminally, but still: Parkinson's) it could be considered a touchier subject matter.

Yes very good choice, you could have picked several by her.