Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Night has painted it’s wings black
And hidden the moon
Trees, they quiver and sway back
And forth, the wind it shivers and sweeps
The sky away
The stars are gone
Is memory and nothing more
The earth, it splinters and spins away
A sight
That empties and fills your brain
Till all you can see is black

Is black too boring a name for this? This is an extremely random poem I wrote for my nano.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

November Ghosts

November Ghosts

November ghosts
oh what on earth
are they? you say
November ghosts are these
they're spirits of the trees
of leaves that twist and twirl down to the ground
of flowers withered, fallen, hanging dead
November ghosts are winds that howl
through the skies and moan
November ghosts are times when you feel sad
and so alone
they haunt the places you would play
when summer would abound
they're trees that flail against the wind
their arms skeleton bare
they're memories of spring, of crickets
all the summer's sound.
The world is poised
it waits for snow
but in it's stead
November ghosts
they creep in slowly
stealing warmth
stealing color.
They're people huddled inside their houses
their blankets curled around them
November ghosts
they steal the heart of the world.

This end has problems. Should I just end with Sound? I can't figure out how to fix the end....