Poems in Honor of October

[Juniper]

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.

[ZenGum]

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).

[Sundae]

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.

[DanaC]

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.

[Trilby]

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.

[Pie]

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.

[Cicero]

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)

[skysidhe]

"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

[Clodfobble]

Look, a haiku!


October Schmockto-
Ber. Let me know when I can
Wear a jacket.

[monster]

[ZenGum]

'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.

[monster]

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!

[monster]

Initially eight, elevated to ten
Not appreciation, but vanity of men.

[ZenGum]

Good one, Monster!

[Sundae]

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.