The days are getting cooler
as summer starts to fade
Classes are beginning
and Jack-O-Lanterns made
The Autumn winds are whistling
a most familiar tune
They say they’re mailing ballots out
and we will get them soon
They say Trump lost his luster
his grifts have all grown stale
Every venture in his life
has been an epic fail
And now we’re in a pickle
in a war with no end nigh
Led there by a loser
who knows not the what or why
But people are resisting
refusing to back down
Protesting in cities
and in every little town
Because November’s coming
and judgment, many say
the Grand Old Party’s reckoning
will be Election Day
Election Time
The winters are long even when
Someone is singing a song without
A clock that goes bong regardless of
The temperatures anywhere in the country
Election time is seldom right on the dime
except for always being the same month
Every year which is when our spears
get stuck in frozen trees
If only there was a way to vote from boats
While boiling some oats as our coats hang
Above our fake goat but no matter where we
go or even vote we will forever be Americans
By nature
Easter bunny sent his eldest to me to brag
Her name was Charlene, she had one small snag
I created this wreath but I have a problem too
The back keeps slipping, so we added glue
I flipped it over and helped her fix the wreath
She was so grateful, she grinned with a whole set of teeth
So, your name is Charlene, I said. She nodded her head.
What’s your Daddy doing these days? He’s probably in bed.
Freddy got left in Mexico after Day of the Dead
A celebration that kept the streets wild and red
The music was the best ever the critics said
But here is Freddy, looking for his grave bed
How did you get here? A trucker asked Freddy
I am not sure, he said, but I thought I was ready
Do you have any idea where you are buried my friend?
I think somewhere in Ohio, maybe Turn around bend
November wears a cloak that is not thick enough
She is not pristinely white and frosty like December
There is no crown for Christmas Queen in November
She has to follow October who gets ghouls and goblins
Bats, cats, witches, brooms, and costumes
November gets what?
A turkey
an ugly bird
not even tasty if you don’t cook it right
November is the ugly stepchild
the one neither parent wants to claim
They are fighting over October and December
the interesting exciting months with the favorite holidays
November crawls into a cave in a fetal position
a chill plagues the wind
wispy clouds strung across it
like tinsel on trees
not until November his mama said
squirrel got angry and his cheeks got red
when is that? he wanted to know
it will probably snow, she said, probably snow
the next day was November first
but his mother could be kind of the worst
she did not tell him, because she was not in the pie-baking mood
that is what he was after, his favorite food
Weaving and raising children's seeds
Of curiosity, genius, and inventive ambitions;
Discovering the world's new pathways of mismatch,
Alluring and glorious nonsense for the future.
Seeds growing in nurturing depths
Capturing charm that each vary and emerge,
With enough time to bloom.
Encourage mindfulness and gratitude
With warmth and develop .
Work becomes play;
Only happiness brings.
An imagination to fly
Around the world or fly to space.
An author, writing stories
That enrich life in lasting ways,
A betterment of the next generation.
A beauty placed before us.
On day of the dead Daddy hired the guitarists four
to liven up November first a tiny bit more
they came to our house and sat on our couch
one of them complained of comfort yelling out “ouch!”
I know what you mean, I said. I hate that spring too.
They played me a song – “Rapsody Day of the Dead blue”
My mother told me to stop making fun of her furniture though.
By the November second, they had returned down below.
We kept hearing the queen was here, but this parade was insane
Every person from ten thousand miles was here, dancing in the rain.
Which one is she? We asked, straining to figure this out.
Finally, we heard many using a confirming shout.
The Queen of the Day of the Dead Parade was sauntering by.
She was led by six horses with skull masks, I wanted to cry.
It was an amazing finish to a parade that lasted six hours.
We arrived back at our hotel six seconds before insane thunder showers.
November first. The Day of the Dead parade is easily seen.
Where is the queen? The kids are yelling. Where is the queen?
The dancers are two-stepping, with skull faces, happy and clean.
Mexican holiday, where remembering the dead is thought to be keen.
it was one of the prettiest sugar skulls I had ever seen
I thought tearing it up to eat would be incredibly mean
Hid it in a locked box hope chest of my cousin old Dean
It was given to me by an artist, the Day of the Dead Queen
Day of the Dead Dancers appeared in Tijuana at nine
They are right on time! The crowd yelped. Right on time and fine!
Their dance was macabre, ghoulish, garish, difficult to track.
They stayed until daylight the next morning, then they went back.
Hi Jesus I wanted to talk with you today
In a poem about my day
I mostly was sleepy today
I mostly was glad to be well fed today
I was thinking about you all day today
I even felt negative and I am sorry for that
I remember those days last year when I was thinking about you less
This year I have been thinking more about you
Like how come you are so great it is amazing
Love this world you have created I just wish we could help more people
I know you always think about me and I know you always guide me even when I do not know it
I trust you Jesus cause You are my best friend from when I was real young
I remember when I automatically knew you were my best friend then years of confusion
I got confused cause I forgot you my best friend from forever I am sorry I was blinded cause I forgot
You Jesus are my best friend from forever
I am glad my sight is restored and I see you Jesus again as my best friend from forever
I love you Jesus so much my pal my buddy
I had no idea I had gone so long without remembering you Jesus are my first friend who created me
Skeleton Man took over the library’s story hour yesterday
It was October, but still, frightened children ran away
What can we do? The board hired him the other librarians said.
He will be a real hit tomorrow, Day of the Dead.
The children were screaming, refused to come back.
Their mothers and fathers were following them to the railroad track.
They wanted to jump on trains and go to Omaha or Utah maybe.
Skeleton Man had scared them witless, they thought he had rabies.
November Categories
Definition | What is November in Poetry?
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