november has only just begun
and already-
i'm thinking of you
my favourite jeans
which have seen so many novembers' before-
ripped in the knee today
snow in november
whispers your name into my ears
why must it snow in november?
soon enough i will be a year older
when do i start to feel different?
A few wet, wind scorched leaves,
are pressed like Victorian mementos
upon the wooden walkway
The trees in this forested park are tattered,
or stand like blackened forked skewers
piercing the stark air.
Autumn fell too far, too soon.
Winter grabbed the sky and quickly froze it.
Now the odd leaf upon the ground
seems abandoned, homeless,
unable now to be anything
but the litter of yesterday.
A good day for wading through
the history of this changing season,
to watch those prematurely gray ghosts
hobbling along a pathway
seeking threadbare sparks of life.
I sit here watching the embers,
Admiring their smouldering glow,
How through many cold Decembers,
They have warmed me by burning slow!
When I want to relax myself,
I sit here watching the embers,
Or take a book from the bookshelf,
And chill with fanciful members!
As long as my heart remembers,
I love to see this fiery dance,
I sit here watching the embers,
And get lost in their blazing trance,
Many times I've been lulled to sleep
By their sizzling in Novembers,
When crepuscular shadows creep,
I sit here watching the embers.
I
have lost
family
in the month of
prior Novembers.
suppose to be a time
of leaves coming of the trees
warm drinks, coziness with loved ones
not a month for me to remember
1-9-2022
They were a strange family, the historian remembers.
He thought they hid out in the house each of the Novembers.
Habit of not leaving during hunting season, he gave a remind.
We looked for a photo, and this one is the best we could find.
What were their names? I asked, holding my breath, wishing for luck.
Baby was fawn, mom was doe, dad, not sure, he said. Maybe buck?
Was it a family of deer? I asked, taking a wild guess and a chance.
I doubt it, he told us. But my ancestors never got a good glance.
spongy mushroom land
a violets gentle smile
leaves on forest floor
squirrels cast aways
crucified pieces and bits
acorns and walnuts
waters turn over
fish burrow into the banks
novembers coming
All too brief are autumn's days
Yet beautiful whilst they last,
A last vestige of warming rays
Before winter's bitter grasp,
And October's hues and shades have past.
She has gifts though to bestow
Bounteous before she leaves,
Berries ripen in hedgerows
Apples redden on the trees,
To harvest 'fore Novembers freeze.
All around as leaves are falling
Creatures scurry to and fro,
They know colder days are calling
So ready havens from the snow,
As autumn cedes, to winter's show.
Entry for
Autumn Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Francine Roberts.
13/10/2020
upon the fall evening of Novembers moon.
there is the call that makes a small tune.
some may guess it is a familiar sound.
others may find it hard and never found.
it is known through the the land far and wide.
sometimes they are seen, sometimes they hide.
many may think one animal i am speaking for.
some may be fooled because how they do score.
someone is saying this is easy and all should know.
someone else is blinded by the words that show.
what do you think of what I am speaking about.
please take a guess and speak without a shout.
no rhyme or reason to the guess you do make.
please take your time to ponder for your sake.
Days of Smog
Do you remember the days of Smog,
Smoke filled Novembers in Fog.
Today you would not believe,
A time when we could not breathe.
Thick Air, not fit for Man Nor Dog.
Novembers force, blows winds of gale,
a sailor seasoned, may navigate swift,
lessons learned from time upon thy ship.
Hold fast against fierce winds in thy sail.
Captain, my Captain, I fear our fortitude.
Yee not be afraid, for only men dare brave,
for fear will only cast you to a watery grave.
As you captain, and as a man I ask more of you.
Some have sailed, and some are yet green,
brave with waves reaching high upon thy rail,
first mate commands all able bodies to bail.
Of steady ground and loved ones, all dream.
Ice water, the loneliness of all burial tombs,
Thrashing waves, they prey to make it through,
In this condition, too rough to feed the crew.
Each and every man know, gloomy fate looms.
She broke deep, heartless water consumed,
each man preyed a sailors prayer, brave men,
The men gave it their all, until the very end.
Thirty three in all that night met their doom.
We are called a "shadow", they say we should never have existed at first.So they treat us like mere entities that exist only in their dreams,
We are called ,'ugly' because we are black ,because we are different ,
Our uniqueness draws their envy, our hearts pump love instead,
We live by the chances they proffer us, yet we are still ever willing to show kindness , fight injustice , love humanity like it is our only treasure,
We fight for what we crave the most ,'justice' not for ourselves but for our legacies yet unborn,
We want to be treated as if we existed, as if we mattered,
You enslave us with your injustice , and give us nightmares as dreams,
we want to be spoken to , not shouted at,
Our black is a beauty no man can take away , our unity draws our diversity and creates our uniqueness,
They imprison us with their injustice and give us black Novembers,
But deep down ,we know who we are and we are not afraid to dream of a better tomorrow ,
We strive everyday to create a better tomorrow for our unborn children,
We are made of dreams , unity and most importantly
We are made of black.
We are called a "shadow", they say we should never have existed at first.So they treat us like mere entities that exist only in their dreams,
We are called ,'ugly' because we are black ,because we are different ,
Our uniqueness draws their envy, our hearts pump love instead,
We live by the chances they proffer us, yet we are still ever willing to show kindness , fight injustice , love humanity like it is our only treasure,
We fight for what we crave the most ,'justice' not for ourselves but for our legacies yet unborn,
We want to be treated as if we existed, as if we mattered,
You enslave us with your injustice , and give us nightmares as dreams,
we want to be spoken to , not shouted at,
Our black is a beauty no man can take away , our unity draws our diversity and creates our uniqueness,
They imprison us with their injustice and give us black Novembers,
But deep down ,we know who we are and we are not afraid to dream of a better tomorrow ,
We strive everyday to create a better tomorrow for our unborn children,
We are made of dreams , unity and most importantly
We are made of black.
Dark Novembers
It’s the silence that is killing
this cold November chilling
Natures beauty with frost, stillness, color but no sound.
A wiser woman knows the inner temperature of the soul paints the
landscape to match their own
a fool discovers the surfeit of despair
This Thanksgiving day bleak, weak, sick, sad, still, quiet, reflective
I had not to give the love you sought so you walked out,
And the past knew you were to come…
And like a reverberation of the all the relationships I’ve known
The past and to come will follow the ripples of that first stone,
I cannot love you in November I loved you all the months through
September, many decades upon each, watching entropy teach me the ways
to age…
I make no sound but inside screaming
Nature may be jesting in her seeming to mock whole
the lamentation of all the secret silent sorrows of each soul.
It would seem some days,
We just waited for the day.
To find out where we are,
And today I feel okay.
To explain the million reasons why,
The seasons truly fade.
We've forgot the bluest skies,
Beauty found in summer shade.
The memories that Autumn brought,
And all the promises it made.
Novembers my favorite time of year.
Embers of December cannot reach me here.
April showers extinguish doubters,
May arrives with flowers now I'm here
At the top of the world.
I haven't forgotten the whispers of true knowledge.
Found in silent summer plights.
Perfection in reflection,
I swear I almost lost the fight.
Trapped beneath the surface,
on the darkest of darkest nights.
The first time I saw you
Two Novembers ago
My heart filled with pure and utter love
To the point where it nearly burst
The way your glassy green eyes sparkled
The way your messy hair never really sat right on your head
The way your left front tooth stuck out
Was nearly too much for me
But today I saw you
Two Marches later
And my heart filled with pure and utter hatred
To the point where it nearly exploded
The way your eyes look like the dull shade of brown I've vomitted so much because of you
The way you cut off your beautiful fair locks
The way your crooked teeth stick out whenever you speak
Funny how
All your imperfections were once too beautiful for me to bare
And now,
I see nothing but hideousness
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