A Poem for a Thursday #37

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash
W. H. Auden was a British-American poet. I first read his poetry in high school when we were assigned "Funeral Blues." I loved it when I first read it and I love it still but, since it is one of his most well-known poems, I was going to use something else. However, nothing else seems to be quite right today so "Funeral Blues" it is.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'. 
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever:  I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good. 

Funeral Blues
W. H. Auden

Reese at Typings is sharing another poem this week. 

2 comments

  1. It may be well-known, but it's a great one! There's never a wrong time to have it brought back to mind.

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    1. There are several of his other poems that I really like but I kept coming back to this. I'll probably use the others some time in the future. I love the flow and rhythm of this.

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