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Poems in Honor of October
Just Dress Up One More Year
I don’t know how I feel about it. Halloween is easier when children are small, When all they care about is candy And playing dress up. Grinning pumpkins – think of the way they smell As the candle scorches their skin! Somewhere a bonfire burns. The street’s lit up Like a big block party That goes on for miles. Please, just one more house! Mom, would you carry this for me? Mom, would you carry me? It’s easier then. When children are young We’re young too – What do we know of death? But age plays tricks. Somewhere there’s a plaque Or a stone with a too-familiar name. Maybe more than one. When the chill wind blows And the dry tree limbs creak The ghosts are all too real. The skulls aren’t plastic But frames that once held flesh you kissed. We smile anyway. We put on clown makeup, or sew ears and a tail And try to keep our little ghouls Unbloodied and sweet Just one more year. |
Excellent.
Really really excellent. (Except "chill wind blows" ... sounds kind of familiar, sort of thing that is said a bit too often. No suggestions though). |
October in the Office
All afternoon The trees have been burning In a bright blue sky, And I have been sitting here Imprisoned Behind wired windows. The strip lighting hums Soporifically. And I have been thinking About sex All afternoon. |
I loved both of those poems.
Juniper, that was stunning. I really like the way the mood drops in the second stanza. The first stanza is full of activity and agency, the second is more passive and full of imposed reflection. Lovely. Also the progression from reflections on children to reflections on people lost, echoes the progression from spring/summer to autumn/winter. Sundae, that poem really got under my skin. I loved the payoff. It's very human and real. |
Dark Things
I like the dark things, Halloween things, Gleeful grins and voodoo queens; Tarot decks and green moonbeams. I like the pansy, fearful face and back, Growling up at me from the bushpack Poison mushroom-caps, magick brick-a-brack. I like the room beneath the Tree Cauldrons and witches, three by three- I like the unseen, silly world That just might bite a careless girl. |
The grateful winds
That carried my father's ashes Have left behind the bones. The playthings of ants, next season's Building birds, know nothing of the man. |
Dios de los Muertos
(Days of the Dead) The dead dance lightly for the living. The living dance slowly for the dead. Dry October leaves blow away singularly. Like the years spent with a loved one; leaving sight, then forgotten. The dead dance lightly for the living. The living dance slowly for the dead. The dead remove their masks 3 days a year. In remberance, the living don theirs; unknowingly meeting in genuine form. The dead dance lightly for the living. The living dance slowly for the dead. The dead celebrate the living who have continued. The living with weary eyes; store the old away until even the resonant sounds of the dead have passed on. The dead dance lightly for the living. The living dance slowly for the dead. The dead are living and the living are dead. So let us dance lightly and slowly for everyone; until we know we are together again. (yes it needs a lot of work) ;) |
"A child looking at ruins grows younger but cold and wants to wake to a new name I have been younger in October than in all the months of spring walnut and may leaves the color of shoulders at the end of summer a month that has been to the mountain and become light there the long grass lies pointing uphill even in death for a reason that none of us knows and the wren laughs in the early shade now come again shining glance in your good time naked air late morning my love is for lightness of touch foot feather the day is yet one more yellow leaf and without turning I kiss the light by an old well on the last of the month gathering wild rose hips in the sun." - W. S. Merwin, The Love of October |
Look, a haiku!
October Schmockto- Ber. Let me know when I can Wear a jacket. |
:lol:
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'course, down under, it's the other way around:
Spring is springing springishly Trees are leafing greenishly insects spawn fish-feedingly overgrown, undermown Spring is springing springishly. |
Four arms and four legs
All hairy and brown And gruesomely clawed are holding me down What is this monster? I'm trapped in it's lair Is it the Sasquatch? No, it's Octo-bear! |
Initially eight, elevated to ten
Not appreciation, but vanity of men. |
Good one, Monster!
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Ah Pie, yours made the hairs stand up on my arms.
I try not to think about being in your position, but you carry it with grace. Loved your couplet Monster, clever. (in fact I have loved all the poems on here and feel guilty for not mentioning each one) October Haiku Blue sky in puddle, The wind blows a leaf across. It's Autumn again. |
"Lady Autumn, Queen of the Harvest, I have seen You in the setting Sun with Your long auburn tresses blowing in the cool air that surrounds You. Your crown of golden leaves is jeweled with amber, amethyst, and rubies. Your long, flowing purple robe stretches across the horizon. In Your hands You hold the ripened fruits. At Your feet the squirrels gather acorns. Black crows perch on Your outstretched arms. All around You the leaves are falling. You sit upon Your throne and watch the dying fires of the setting Sun shine forth its final colors in the sky. The purple and orange lingers and glows like burning embers. Then all colors fade into the twilight. Lady Autumn, You are here at last. We thank You for Your rewards. We have worked hard for these gifts. Lady Autumn, now grant us peace and rest." - Deirdre Akins |
Lyrics:
Forever Autumn Justin Hayward The summer sun is fading as the year grows old And darker days are drawing near... The winter winds will be much colder Now you're not here. I watch the birds fly south across the autumn sky And one by one they disappear. I wish that I was flying with them Now you're not here Like a song through the trees you came to love me Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away... Through autumn's golden gown we used to kick our way You always loved this time of year. Those fallen leaves lie undisturbed now 'Cause you're not here Like a song throught the trees you came to love me Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away... A gentle rain falls softly on my weary eyes As if to hide a lonely tear... My life will be forever autumn 'Cause you're not here. |
Oh I do love me a bit of War Of The Worlds!
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Heeehee, is that what that's from? I remember hearing it on the radio when I was young and I bought the '45 (for those who remember what a 45 is!) I just thought it was an eerily pretty song...was it the theme song or something? :blush:
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I started typing up what I know, but then realised I had so much to check, I might as well refer you directly to Wiki.
I grew up with the album, and I have to say the pictures in it, and the noise of the Martians (and of course the scary story) made a huge impression on me. In fact it was a relief to read H G Wells' well-ordered and dated book. One of the few times the source material has had less impact on me than the adaptation! We all sat and watched the live version on TV last Christmas. A recording of it sung and played live that is (at the O2), not an action version. It was mesmerising. I did miss David Essex as the Artilleryman though. And Julie Covington (also my ideal Mary Magdalene) singing, "No Nathaniel, oh no Nathanial no" - she has such an ethereal voice. |
I had no idea. It was just a song I liked when I was younger. Pretty interesting, though! :)
ps I miscredited, looks like it was written by Jeff Wayne, Gary Osborne and Paul Vigrass???? |
Wonderful poetry, everyone! Thanks for sharing, and thanks for the compliments on mine! I've not been much of a poet in the past, but now that I'm a little more comfy with reading it, I'm finding it fun to write.
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The days are coming, I can see them quite clearly
But they contain only the silence of cacophony & meaningless sincerity I have become a sounding brass With no notes, no music, no reason to play No ear to please The fall's figs are ripe, Who will harvest them? I find I no longer care for the taste Of living - |
Quote:
@Juniper. You do surprise me. The poem has quite a confident feel to it. |
Ah October!
Your so fine you blow my mind You blow my mind, October! Sorry. |
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