Journey October Poems

Softly sighing, cerulean skies melt over a trail of endings.

Lost in last night’s laughing leaves, silent reflections, memories trembling.

Echoing along shadows, laughing quietly as past...

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October is one of those months that begin to transition and change to prepare for winter.

As our days begin to shorten, this tenth month brings...

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October 7th, 2023 upon third anniversary of mine papa's passing...

Death no longer jars, nixes, 
and rattles mine sense and sensibilities
without pride nor prejudice
no matter (even...

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October, the privilege to cast off once more,
The thirty-first, get ready to dock once more,
No need to continue within the scholastic helm,
The adjustment of sails...

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We struggled along damp, smoke-filled streets;
leaves still summer green, 
a chilly breeze rustling some, turned golden early 
in anticipation of the fall.
Neil at one end...

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cover of clouds
parked cars crowd a narrow street
sidewalk rising and settling
a rough journey in time
leaves turning colors rustle
the neighbor across the street
she says it’s just...

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Too long I sleep,
Only darkness I see;
Blackened, my eyes,
Blinded, I rise.

Too long I sleep,
How forgotten the world is,
How memories faded (in depth),
Like butter, it is...

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Honestly, I am so in my feels today. If you are reading this, my love extends to you. Ok, lets goo... I wrote some of...

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Sometimes,
I walk the banks of
That ageless river,
For hours, it seems,
In autumn, when the leaves fall
With that damp riverbed smell, 
Lost in the backwards 
Journey of...

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October Country's the darkened moonlight sky is reflected in your eyes.
You have nothing hidden, and do not wear a disguise.
Whenever did you learn wisdom, and...

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October 16th, 2018, A Day At The Market With The Missus

Oft times zee spouse
     lingers at select
    ...

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It is the time of year
When the long summer
Has finally agreed
To wash herself
In the perfectly
Still
October tub
Of the first freezing morning.

Of course,

She never recovers
And asks me,...

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Saturday morning
October 17, 2015
9:10 a.m.
Kansas City, Mo
Stephen Becker pen name Brian Stoaks


             ...

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This a journey of old. 
Tales written and 
unwritten. We know 
where we are coming 
from but not where 
we go. 1st october, first 
born...

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If these eyes shall become blinded, and if this
hair shall come to be combed thinly and grey;
No, it would not be the end of the...

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