Early In November
Beneath the starry morning still and steady
Frost laid on the leaves
Frost laid on the dreams
And stayed till the sun beams
Its early in November
And there's no rain
Oh this terrible silence and frozen pain
Sleep clinging in the closets
Sleep creeping on the floors
Sleep climbing up the walls
And stays till the reality falls
It's early in November
And I can't remember
How long will i wait and slumber?
The sky begins to pale
The black reveals is blues so dull and stale
As the footsteps begun to jolt this abandoned trail
The heart bursts out into this silent wail
It's early in November
And there's no rain
Oh this terrible silence and frozen pain
poem by Falky Flakes
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Related quotes
November Rain
November rain washed away my guilt
November rain washed away my pain
November rain - so tired I felt
November rain was not just any rain
Long I longed with deep torment
For so long my body waited
November rain, , , , Oh, sweet friend
November rain- slowly I faded.
November rain- I cried within
Steady and slowly, it kept on pouring
November rain, watered my skin
And deep inside, I heard my roaring.
November rain, it refused to quit
November rain kept on pouring
And alone outside, in the streets I wept-
dripping... dripping and falling.
poem by Amy Phillip
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Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet November
Sweet november.. you stole my heart
I let it go with all the fear and doubt
Sweet november.. you opened my mind
With all the sweetness that you left behind
And I'm living, with a vision of you
All the days grow colder, but I know
It's not the way I'm holding on but how I'm letting go
And how I will remember
Sweet november
And now you're with me
You're with me in the sun
I'm a baby in a world that's just begun
And now you're with me
You're with me in the rain
I'm so glad that I will never be the same
Cause I'm living with a vision of you
All the leaves are falling, falling down like snow
It's not the way I'm holding on it's how I'm letting go
But how, I will remember
Sweet november
Sweet november
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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November
November;
One of those months
caught in the middle
between two seasons
Split down
into two's
Like daylight
and darkness
'Always feels like home
in twilight,
and just before the dawn
before the birds song'
A time that never lasted
too long
November is warm
thunderstorms at night...
frozen water at dawn.
Sullen lead gray mornings
swallowed by the cold
empty afternoon's sunshine.
November then slumbers with
it's blanket of darkness
in frozen silence
no solace...just solitude
poem by Midnights Voice
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The New Routine
dinner at six pm
blackout comes at 7
so we sleep as early as that time
and with nothing to do
we make love in the dark
and too tired
we oversleep till 5 the next morning
when electricity resumes
we sleep without air-conditioning
pre-conditioned now
to this long lasting emergency situation
i content myself to the sound of silence
some chirping birds sometimes
and crowing cocks at dawn
and screaming chickens landing
on the ground
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Too Early Her Sunset
Oh, so much of drowning regrets!
When faced with too early a sunset
Time seems to have been cheating
And the Future is just disappearing.
Life becomes fast drifting sands
We fail to hold in our weakened hands
Dreams and plans like mists are set
To fade like fog in too early a sunset.
Too early to think of sleep and rest
Too early for having Death as guest
Why does it seem that Fate forgets
Not to come early, too early for sunset?
It pains and grieves my frail heart so
Words to comfort, how? I don't know.
She hangs on there till the End is met
No choice but to go, too early her sunset.
For Eden, my friend. (Brain cancer victim at 38.)
Cynthia Buhain-Baello
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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November chillness
November chillness
As the cold wind flows in
her memories enters mind.
Thinking of her, enjoying this crazy love
freezes the november chillness.
Body is somewhere and mind is somewhere
mind not responding to november chillness
is frozen by her memories.
the slow speech of her, the elegant looks
ha frozen my mind
hey akasha mallige, i stare at you and wait for january
to see you in full bloom.
I don't know when is my january
but enjoy her memories freezing my mind.
As the cold wind of november flows,
memories of her fragrance and
the sweetness in her voice makes
mind foolish in this love.
hey akasha mallige when is my january?
(pem written on november)
(akasha mallige is a jasmine)
poem by Venkatesh Nagaraj
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Early Morning Silence
Sitting in the early morning silence
that hasn’t filled with
the approaching days gloom.
That time when the mind
has a chance to run free.
The early morning silence
when no one is around.
The intrusive world has not
invaded our space with idle chatter
from sources that surround us
making up our daily lives.
The early morning silence
we need to activate our mind.
You sit in the darkness
just before the dawn appears
enjoying the solitary that is temporary stillness
brings to your ears.
The early morning silence
when no one is around.
16 September 2010
poem by David Harris
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Cool Dreams
A slippery seal laid on the ice,
Not far from dreams, it's true,
He twitched his whiskers once or twice,
There's not much else to do...
For when sleep comes and yawns begin
And drooping eyelids fall,
It's then you know you just can't win,
You've got no chance at all...
Your neck slumps down, your muscles flop,
Your breathing changes speed,
Until your mind knows it must stop,
For sleep is what you need...
So off you go, you sleepyhead,
You silly so and so...
There's nothing more that should be said,
Sweet dreams as you breathe slow...
You take your time, flat out, like that,
You know you've done your best,
Keep smiling like the Cheshire cat,
You're bound to wake refreshed!
Beneath the sun, beneath the moon,
Beneath the stars that shine,
Because we know we need sleep soon,
God bless your dreams... and mine...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cool Dreams'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Wonky Weather
Never in my life before, can I ever remember,
Such mild weather, at the start of a November.
The grey squirrels, in the park, are still running wild,
As the weather, for this time of year, is warm and mild.
At the popular pub, a way along the seafront,
Some people sit outside, to enjoy their lunch.
Some brave souls, have rented themselves a beach hut,
While, along the shore, dog owners exercise their mutts.
Girls wear dresses, which leave their arms and legs bare;
That it’s now winter time, they don’t seem to really care.
On the crazy golf course, players are still having much fun;
All so eager to try and score that, often elusive, hole in one.
The weather in November is traditionally cold and grey,
But we’ve really enjoyed a most warm and pleasant day.
I would guess, this is all to do with global warming;
That a whole new pattern of weather is now forming.
Despite the pleasant day, it still gets dark extremely early;
Even in the daylight, I spot the moon, all white and pearly.
Over the town, a veil of darkness, slowly, begins to creep,
But, it is still too early in the day, for people to fall asleep.
But, when to the summertime, I now think back,
Of pleasant days, I recall, there being a real lack.
Our patterns of weather have now gone all weird,
But, by the weather, today, my soul felt cheered.
There was no rain today: all day, it stayed dry,
And the temperatures reached a seasonal high.
In July, I can recall one particular, rain soaked, day,
When the wild winds, almost blew me clean away.
When I was a child, the impression, which I got,
Was that summer was hot, and winter was not.
But now, the seasons have all gone rather awry,
And the weathermen now tell us a different story.
I remember early one April, not so very long ago,
I awoke in the morning, to a thick layer of snow.
This phenomenon, they refer to as ‘climate change, ’
Is, indeed, making the weather turn extremely strange.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Echoes of silence
A silent scream
A bad dream..
nightmare
Wake me up
Some one dare
Spare me.. spare!
Everytime i remember
that touch that smell
The day i experienced hell
my cross to bear
All my life
My death knell
My tortured sigh
someone hear in silence
my helplessness
As i laid that night
Silence echoes my fight
my plight!
Silence echoes
Scot free, he walks away
echoes till this day
Silence echoes
My lost innocence
At nights in dreams..
Night, witness to my pain
Driving me insane
within my heart...
Silence echoes,
My silent scream
my broken dreams..
Silence echoes....
poem by Meena Iyer
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Monday Morning
I love to sleep all day,
Or play all night.
But I must get all ready,
For Monday morning so tight.
I have to go to school,
On this very cold early morning.
Perhaps I wish was a fool,
Who would sleep till tomorrow?
But I am no fool,
On this very early morning.
Hence I must go to school,
So my friend will not be laughing
Waking up this day,
Drives all joy away.
The little ones play,
With gladness all day.
Monday morning it is,
For I have to wake up early
So I would not be caught,
Pouring cold water on my body so dry.
Today is Monday morning,
The most boring of all days.
Which bring back all sorrows,
Running to school so noisy.
Yet I sit in class,
And listen to the teacher.
Who come in a pink dress?
As the pastor preaches.
My face I bury,
Deep, deep in my books.
Which I take no delight in,
Yet still I must read or I would not eat.
How can I be born for joy?
Yet still sit in this cage.
And listen to the other boys,
Who I despise as much as dirt.
Today is Monday morning,
I have to go to school.
For I would not sleep till tomorrow,
Because I would be acting as a fool.
poem by Samuel Donkor
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Temps Perdu
I never may turn the loop of a road
Where sudden, ahead, the sea is Iying,
But my heart drags down with an ancient load-
My heart, that a second before was flying.
I never behold the quivering rain-
And sweeter the rain than a lover to me-
But my heart is wild in my breast with pain;
My heart, that was tapping contentedly.
There's never a rose spreads new at my door
Nor a strange bird crosses the moon at night
But I know I have known its beauty before,
And a terrible sorrow along with the sight.
The look of a laurel tree birthed for May
Or a sycamore bared for a new November
Is as old and as sad as my furtherest day-
What is it, what is it, I almost remember?
poem by Dorothy Parker
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November Love (My First Poem) (Two Versions)
Below, you will see two versions of my very first poem.
Its important to understand that the first version of the poem
is exactly as I wrote it at 6: 15 to 6: 30 PM on November 2nd
1970. I made no changes to it. It is also important to know
that this was, in fact, my first ever attempt to write a poem
of any kind whatsoever. The second version is modified from
the first because I wanted to demonstrate how a few simple
word changes can convert a rather average poem of some
quality into a poem of great quality and structure.
In early November the air is clear
With many sounds of lovers near.
Not as the April birds that sing
Nor as the Sunday church bells ring.
But rather to the rhythm of rain,
The hearts of lovers beat again.
For it's not true love that blooms in spring
Nor is it of love that birds do sing.
Rather of that love soon gone
And never seems to carry on.
That April love that all partake,
But very few ever make.
It's all year long this false love swells
Till in November true love dwells.
In November the air is clear
With many sounds of lovers near.
Not as the April birds that sing
Nor as the Sunday church bells ring.
Rather to the rhythm of rain,
The hearts of lovers beat again.
It's not true love that blooms in spring.
Nor is it love, that birds will sing.
But rather of that love soon gone
Which never seems to carry on.
That April love that all partake
And very few will ever make.
It's all year long this false love swells
Till in November, true love dwells.
I have removed the voting option on this poem
and placed it in my Hall Of Fame, due to its
history described above and its usefulness as
an example to the readers.
poem by Greenwolfe 1962
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November
November month of fog and mists.
The early mornings have a bite
the silver grass by Jack Frost kissed
in the dark hours of the night.
The sun reluctant slow to rise
His winter rays no longer warm
that frost persists is no surprise.
This is the calm before the storm.
Winter advances openly
no power can withstand its might
What has to be will come to be
A winter world of black and white.
Though advent justifies a feast
the winter cares not in the least.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Killing Frost
There is an enchantment in the Killing Frost
It's the most magical night of the year
When the abundant blooms of Summer
Are put to sleep by Frost's frozen tears.
The Killing Frost arrives here silently
Flying in ahead of Winter's incoming wrath
Covering all things that are of the earth
Putting to sleep all flora in her path.
As the late Autumn sun sinks below the horizon
On this Special Night of the year
Plants which were all alive this past morn will be no more
It's time to make way for Winter's Cheer.
Everything Frost kisses will be put to eternal repose
Adorned by Frost's magical breath during the night
All will be dripping in Diamonds in the Morn
With which to dazzle by soft Morning's light.
Winter will be arriving shortly now
And Frost will take her leave
To make way for fluttering snowflakes
Which will come to dance during the long Winter's Eve.
poem by Christine A Kysely (29 December 2010)
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Early Mornin'
Early mornin'
All right, I was out real late last night
Got a little messy
Early morning
Can't be like that anymore, oh
I was shaking my ass in the streets this morning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, bump till the break of dawn and
It don't stop till the early morning
Passed out on the couch I'm yawning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, bump till the break of dawn and
It don't stop till the early morning
Wanna talk to
When he walked up someone grabbed him
But I liked him to come here
Kinda cool
Baby, we can make plans
Where ya live
Does your mama live there
We can hook up at the hotel
Hands down so
I told him, let's go
But waht happened next, guess?
But you don't wanna know
I was shaking my ass in the streets this morning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, bump till the break of dawn and
It don't stop till the early morning
Passed out on the couch I'm yawning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, bump till the break of dawn and
It don't stop till the early morning
Oh, in love
So I approached him
We gotta give him his friends
There's something bout him that show
So I said, what the hell
Let's go
Got up, got on the dance floor
Hooked up with a guy named Joe
When the music was fast and slow
But waht happened next, guess?
But you don't wanna know
I was shaking my ass in the streets this morning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, bump till the break of dawn and
It don't stop till the early morning
Passed out on the couch I'm yawning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, b
song performed by by Britney Spears
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I can't Rest even When I Sleep
I can’t rest even when sleep. My dreams are replays of my day. When I got up in the morning I saw my old man cuddling an empty bottle of E&J. While my mom lies with a bag of thawed frozen peas on her eye which she used when they were frozen to sooth the pain my drunken ass dad gave her when he slapped her. Then there’s lunchtime while everyone else was eating some form of fast-food I choked downed a dry piece of stale raisin bread and nuke warm public water fountain water. Dinner time hell lunch was dinner and as for prime time TV the only thing I saw on must see TV was my old man and mom fighting until dad passed out same channel, same time ever night. I can’t rest even when I sleep. My dreams are a replay of my day.
Sleepy Mom
Mom is waking in a room
Her heart and soul full of gloom,
Now in the hall of the house,
Not everything is guiet as a mouse
She can't sleep silence, nor do anything with the children
She is sad and crying in sadness, silence;
The pain in her heart violent.
She is weak from walking the hell all night
Wanting to sleep in silence with all her might
She can't do anything but sleep with her children in bed,
Silence; time and time again.
Until you know what you can do and can't do,
Your children won't be safe without you
You can keep them away from the big bad wolf
You can keep a watch on them from any danger,
whether from a friend or from a stranger,
You can sleep in silence now,
Be happy and take a bow,
Protect me from the dark or from a bomb,
you have down your job.
poem by Keith Scott
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Mask
My thoughts are hidden behind a
Stone – like mask, once unsmiling, but never weeping- as
I began my solitary walk into the darkness.
I remember the day that
I built a moat around my castle walls
Morning transformed into night and it was
On that starless night
The sun barely set and in all of its fullness, the moon never rose,
At daybreak, fog overshadowed the sun, and
It could have been because
On the same dank and sultry day
My lifelong summer came to an end.
The sun rose in the west and the earth stood still.
Torrential rain poured out
From the depths of me, and
It was upon that last day ever that
I let the world surrounding me see the storm through my startled eyes.
The screaming of the locusts, the sounds of cars racing down the highway,
The hammering of the hail upon the pavement and
The heavy footsteps of people walking outside
Could not surpass my silent though desperate cries…
The early morning fog descended
And settled around my castle walls- jet black as the
Tempest that raged behind those walls,
In which I became both the queen and the prisoner
Although-
No one would have known because
I had firmly pasted a frozen smile
Upon that stone-like mask that I donned night and day-
Everyone was too busy
Reading about the wars in the far-east and the plight of the homeless-
Nobody could see or hear the war that was rampant inside of me-
I have no home in this world; I walk alone.
Above the calling of the wild geese,
The rush hour traffic, the spattering of the rain upon the rooftops outside-
No one listens to the sound of shattering dreams because
That frozen smile-
Was just too beautiful…
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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