W.H.Auden, Funeral Blues

Funeral Blues

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.

 - - - - -

This is my 'sad times' poem. Let me just explain that, have you ever had a moment where you are so angry or frustrated or upset or alone or all four and you really really really need to just cry and let off some steam but no matter what you do the tears just won't come? I know I have, and sometimes it happens weekly.

In those times I read or listen to this poem and I've found that the best reading by far is from Four Weddings and a Funeral (you can find it on youtube) because it just shows the amount of emotion that this poem needs to be awesome (in the original meaning of the word). This is also the version I managed to find and put onto my ipod just because sometimes you need to cry on-the-go.

From the very first line I start to cry and blubber and sniffle because these are feelings I can relate to personally which makes it hit my heart every time I read it.

So when you're sad, read this poem, savour the words, think about the meaning and love W.H. Auden for creating such a beautiful poem.

Other 'sad times' poems or songs I'd like to recommend are -
 - Song - Les Miserables, Fantine's Death (the 10th Anniversary by Ruthie Henshall)
 - Song - Wicked, I'm not that Girl
 - Poem - Do Not Stand at My Grave - Various versions are available
 - Song - Sarah McLachlan, Arms of the Angels

Until next time Readers x