Do You Know Any Good Poems or Quotes That Will Help me During Greiving a Death?

Question

particularly my granpa, but it doesnt matter
as long as it will somehow kinda help me

Answer 1

"Do not go gentle into that Good Night,
Fight, fight against the dying of the light..."
Dylan Thomas wrote these lines from a very famous poem. Even the great musician and poet, Bob Dylan, borrowed his name, being inspired by him for such wonderful thoughts.I never really understood those lines for a long time. I only thought they meant "live as long as you could." But later, after going through college, and researching many scriptures both East and West, I understood them to mean that "Night" is "ignorance", the darkness of not knowing what death was. And "light" was "knowlege." Light is Knowledge, and Knowledge is light.
Light is not impersonal, it comes from the soul. That is the self, so we should "fight" or resist anything that goes against understanding who we are. Who am I? That is the most important question a person could ask. Who was your grandpa? He was not that body. Your grandpa was the soul, the self, inside that body. So, we should always try to live as long as possible. Your grandpa is a soul that will go onto another body, until he reaches the personal light of knowing that he is the soul which has a form, a name and everything.
So, to fight against the dying of the light is natural for everyone. Good question, God bless you and your grandpa.

Answer 2

Crossing the Bar is always a good one, but like the answer above I'd go to those that have the test of time and promise of hope. Look at Psalm 121 or 1 Cor. 15, they've helped many. God bless you and your Grandpa as he goes on in new life.

Answer 3

I don't know if this will help, but I wrote this poem when my Grandmother died, and it helped me. Just change it to Grandpa. Im sorry about your loss.


Gram
To My Grandmother, Ella M. Allen


You were there from the start
And you'll always be in my heart
I love you like there's no tomorrow
And when your around I feel no sorrow
You were a doorway to my past
And knowledge you gave me will always last
I do not want you to go
And I know that you don't also
I know you love me with all your heart
And you do not want us to part
Unfortuanetly, it's not our choice
Just know that I will never forget your voice
I must say goodbye now
I just want you to know how
Much I will always love you
Because of what you've done, I know what I will do
You've helped make me what I am today
And your in my heart, so you'll never be away
I love you,Gram... And I Always Will

Answer 4

I'm sorry for your loss. There's one I know bits of, it says something like do not grieve for me .I have not left. I have just gone into the next room Maybe somenone else can fill in more of it. As a committed Christian may I also suggest that you look in the Bible,or even pray. God be with you at this sad time. Hope this helps.

Answer 5

this is my fav song i don't know how helpful it may be but I love it
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UiGO_5t-Kxo
just change words till grandpa
hope you feel better
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9d9l8K7xOYM this is nice youll get over we live to die just think he's in a better place he will give you little signs that's he around always talk to him he can hear you I know how you feel you just want the whole world to stop and feel your sadness like if your shopping you wondering why ain't nobody else is sad it like a sad holiday and you and your family just the only ppl celebrating it.you heal in due time that why the memories you have are memories for live. just be patience

Answer 6

I worte this myself. hope it helps!
Death
I still see him so clearly,
As if he were alive to day.
There was no better sound than his laugh,
So pure and filled with a sweet,
Hearty, benevolence
I admired him more than
Any other person in the world.
I lived for him.
The day he died,
Something died inside me
Years have passed since then
And I have realized
That when someone whom you love dies,
If you don’t let go
You will regret it for the rest of your life,
Because you never had the chance to live in happiness as they did.
Therefore, you will have let them down.

Answer 7

sorry of ur loss

heres a poem by Maya Angelou

Recovery

A Last love,
proper in conclusion,
should snip the wings
forbidding further flight.
But I, now,
reft of that confusion,
am lifted up
and speeding toward the light.

Song for the Old Ones

My Fathers sit on benches
their flesh counts every plank
the slats leave dents of darkness
deep in their withered flanks.

They nod like broken candles
all waxed and burnt profound
they say "It's understanding
that makes the world go round."

There in those pleated faces
I see the auction block
the chains and slavery's coffles
the whip and lash and stock.

My Fathers speak in voices
that shred my fact and sound
they say "It's our submission
that makes the world go round."

They used the finest cunning
their naked wits and wiles
the lowly Uncle Tomming
and Aunt Jemima's smiles.

They've laughed to shield their crying
then shuffled through their dreams
and stepped 'n' fetched a country
to write the blues with screams.

I understand their meaning
it could and did derive
from living on the edge of death
They kept my race alive.


INSOMNIAC

There are some nights when
sleep plays coy,
aloof and disdainful.
And all the wiles
that I employ to win
its service to my side
are useless as wounded pride,
and much more painful.

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise

I rise
I rise.

Hope this helps

Answer 8

Alfred, Lord Tennyson's "In Memoriam". It is very long, but every line is a beautiful, silent melody.

Excerpt:

I

Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove;
Thine are these orbs of light and shade;
Thou madest Life in man and brute;
Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot
Is on the skull which thou hast made.

Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
Thou madest man, he knows not why,
He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou hast made him: thou art just.

Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou:
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.

Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be:
They are but broken lights of thee,
And thou, O Lord, art more than they.

We have but faith: we cannot know;
For knowledge is of things we see;
And yet we trust it comes from thee,
A beam in darkness: let it grow.

Let knowledge grow from more to more,
But more of reverence in us dwell;
That mind and soul, according well,
May make one music as before,

But vaster. We are fools and slight;
We mock thee when we do not fear:
But help thy foolish ones to bear;
Help thy vain worlds to bear thy light.

Forgive what seem'd my sin in me;
What seem'd my worth since I began;
For merit lives from man to man,
And not from man, O Lord, to thee.

Forgive my grief for one removed,
Thy creature, whom I found so fair.
I trust he lives in thee, and there
I find him worthier to be loved.

Forgive these wild and wandering cries,
Confusions of a wasted youth;
Forgive them where they fail in truth,
And in thy wisdom make me wise.


1849.


I.

I held it truth, with him who sings
To one clear harp in divers tones,
That men may rise on stepping-stones
Of their dead selves to higher things.
But who shall so forecast the years
And find in loss a gain to match?
Or reach a hand thro?time to catch
The far-off interest of tears?

Let Love clasp Grief lest both be drown'd,
Let darkness keep her raven gloss:
Ah, sweeter to be drunk with loss,
To dance with death, to beat the ground,

Than that the victor Hours should scorn
The long result of love, and boast,
Behold the man that loved and lost,
But all he was is overworn.?



II.

Old Yew, which graspest at the stones
That name the under-lying dead,
Thy fibres net the dreamless head,
Thy roots are wrapt about the bones.
The seasons bring the flower again,
And bring the firstling to the flock;
And in the dusk of thee, the clock
Beats out the little lives of men.

O not for thee the glow, the bloom,
Who changest not in any gale,
Nor branding summer suns avail
To touch thy thousand years of gloom:

And gazing on thee, sullen tree,
Sick for thy stubborn hardihood,
I seem to fail from out my blood
And grow incorporate into thee.



III.


O Sorrow, cruel fellowship,
O Priestess in the vaults of Death,
O sweet and bitter in a breath,
What whispers from thy lying lip?
"The stars," she whispers, "blindly run;
A web is wov'n across the sky;
From out waste places comes a cry,
And murmurs from the dying sun:

"And all the phantom, Nature, stands
With all the music in her tone,
A hollow echo of my own,
A hollow form with empty hands."

And shall I take a thing so blind,
Embrace her as my natural good;
Or crush her, like a vice of blood,
Upon the threshold of the mind?

IV.

To Sleep I give my powers away;
My will is bondsman to the dark;
I sit within a helmless bark,
And with my heart I muse and say:
O heart, how fares it with thee now,
That thou should’st fail from thy desire,
Who scarcely darest to inquire,
‘What is it makes me beat so low?’
Something it is which thou hast lost,
Some pleasure from thine early years.
Break, thou deep vase of chilling tears,
That grief hath shaken into frost!
Such clouds of nameless trouble cross
All night below the darken’d eyes;
With morning wakes the will, and cries,
‘Thou shalt not be the fool of loss.’


V.

I sometimes hold it half a sin
To put in words the grief I feel;
For words, like Nature, half reveal
And half conceal the Soul within.
But, for the unquiet heart and brain,
A use in measured language lies;
The sad mechanic exercise,
Like dull narcotics, numbing pain.
In words, like weeds, I’ll wrap me o’er,
Like coarsest clothes against the cold:
But that large grief which these enfold
Is given in outline and no more.