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.
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Further information
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Funeral_Blues
Analysis:
This poem is an expression of profound grief and despair upon the loss of a beloved. The speaker’s world has been shattered, and they can no longer find meaning in anything. The poem is full of imagery of death and mourning, such as the coffin, the black cotton gloves, and the crepe bows. The speaker also wishes to destroy all that is beautiful and life-giving, such as the stars, the moon, the sun, and the ocean. This poem is similar to other works by the author in its exploration of themes of love, loss, and grief. It is also typical of the time period in its use of stark imagery and its focus on the individual’s emotional experience.
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