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Open your door and turn on your lights. It's time to give candy on this magical night.
Carve your pumpkin with a happy grin, then light the wick so it shines bright within.
Voices whisper out in the street, you should go up to the house and say trick or treat.
So you grab a bowl of candy delights to give to the children of the night.
As you dropped a handful into their sacks they all scream with wonderful delight.
This is why we all love Halloween night.
Halloween is one of my favorite nights.
Katrid Cornell Apr 2017
October.
Happiness settles in when October arrives.
When the cool lungs of fall envelope California,
and burnt crimson holds tight to bright pumpkin shades.

The autumn sunshine spills through these colors,
warm and inviting and familiar.
But even so, waking up to a sky of ash grey clouds that are
ready and eager to let their tears drip and kiss my face is a sort of bittersweet I can't help but adore.
Because after those kisses slide off my face and I breathe in,
I can smell the way the rain smells once it hits the asphalt,
The crisp, cool scent of sadness becoming something beautiful.

The way his lips leave a tinge on the tip of my tongue in October.
The anticipation and anxiety was sour; but the electricity on the pink of my own lips tasted like I can't explain.
I can imagine my own taste, if I try.
At first, you'll taste the strength of coffee and the bold smoke of cigarettes
Later tasting the lavender and sweet cream forever embedded upon the soft pink of my mouth.

October;
Where did you go?
emme m Feb 2017
midnight thoughts and wasted eyes
waiting for the sun to rise
owls are howling, so depressed
the morning light will be our guest

dosen’t matter if we’re drunk or sober
wasted nights in late october
leaves are floating down to earth
feeling like we’re nothing worth
Nathan Box Nov 2016
For my 2016 writing project, I’ve decided to write a single line of poetry every day for an entire year. Below, is October’s poem. Enjoy!

Red, orange, and yellow.
I am succumbing to a cascade of color.
No longer who I was.
Now, who I am meant to be.

I am falling deeply in love with you.
This time of year draws me nearer.
It must be the season.
When all fails, you remain constant.

I have worked my whole life for this.
You are what I deserve.
This feels like something promised.
Or a dream realized.

Fall clothes are dusted off.
The closet is filled with new life.
Nothing else remains there.
We live an honest love.

Fires are being built.
Everything is in its proper place.
So are you.
We ready ourselves for the cold.

Those darkened days will come.
This is truer than we realize.
We would do ourselves justice,
If we would prepare for the moment.

Change surprises so many couples.
We can learn from this.
They can be our guide;
Our north star in the Seattle night.

Until then, I love you.
Beyond our failings,
This will remain true.
Randy Ray Price Oct 2016
The old Vermont sun shone low in the western sky, wringing itself dry of the last drops of heat for the year, my back reaching for all the warmth it can catch. I tip my head up from its downward shell I created with the brim of my red white and blue hat in an effort to escape my face from the wind. My eyes focus towards the wind whipped trees up ahead; their branches look exhausted as they cling onto the last of the elder leaves. As I widen my vision to a towering landscape, I fail to hold back my surprise at the sight of snow-capped mountains.

Like an evil kingdom atop a large hill, the upcoming winter lurks in the dull grey fog; striking fear in the world beneath it. The snow is the ominous army marching away from the empire; slowly yet surely. Without warning, a great gust catches the brim of my hat, throwing it backwards into oblivion. Winter is nearing me. Cold dark days lie ahead once again.
Hint hint this is about the election ;)
Arcassin B Oct 2016
by Arcassin Burnham


Chill as the cold long winters sending rodents
into hibernation scraping knees and keeping
secrets minding your own **** business in a
city full of snakes where everyone knows your
name and all of your whereabouts with the most
currents doubts and rumors they hear from people,
but I'm just keeping it wavy,
but I'm just keeping it wavy,
but I'm just keeping it wavy,
i swear, I'm playing it safely,
A lot of people ,they hate me,
happened before but it will not phase me,

but I'm just keeping it wavy,
                                                          but I'm just keeping it wavy,


its too late to save who I was , not in this distant future,
memories will remain so vivid like scarring kama sutra,
vulnerable like taking my life to get me out of this hell,
cutting down barriers in life won't stop me getting to you,
look at me i'm ,done with this,
was a troubled kid with fiery mist,
hard enough to become a pacifist,
life tried to hit me with the dodge ball , but it missed,
deep memories with fake people and the fake smiles,
won't tolerate the **** when i create my first child,
but I'm just keeping it wavy,

but I'm just keeping it wavy,
but I'm just keeping it wavy,
i swear, I'm playing it safely,
A lot of people ,they hate me,
happened before but it will not phase me,
but I'm just keeping it wavy,
                                                         but I'm just keeping it wavy.
©ABPoetry2016
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2016/10/wavy.html
Adam Mott Oct 2016
Tallest trees, burnt out realities
A hundred acre wood, haunted
Life, a fairy tale without ending
Bitter bedtime story
Buried in a segmented quarry

Bothering through, the hurt of two
Conquered by sorrows with fear of tomorrows
As the seasons' change

Time will mend these roles and parts
Actors on a stage possessing real heart
The first time in human history,
Happy endings

No more bitter glories
The flavour of life underwater
Another colourful persona
Built to make them believe you
Decide to write something vaguely spooky prior to election season
I mean, Halloween
Adam Mott Oct 2016
Nothing is forever
Always something better
Swings of highs
Valleys of lows

All the flavours of pain and hurt
Come and go
Old, young, beat up
Cheap whiskey, girls listening to me on cassette tape

The follies of me when I was you
So much to see and so little to say
The going price for the life in a day
For all I bought and all you sold
The single drop of a river run cold

A late goodbye
Something good
What had been done
Late October day
Endings of new beginnings
Tears of the many roads
For which I died
For E
The hour: the hour was grey and heavy laden
The ground was cool and damp when my eye fell upon that fair maiden.
A collared jacket pulled up to her chin
A vague smile stretched across the ashen light as I thought about her uncharted skin.
I knew that we were foreordained to dance.
Her hand would be mine if given the chance.

The taste of bitter wine was on my lips, and someone else's hand was placed upon her hips on that day in what was a
cold
sober
October

A bell: a bell that tolls for lost souls has me (cringe) stone white.
Thirteen strikes move me closer, and I dodge each cavernous hole in my adverse plight.
The name that each leaf whispers is Crisp and Wither.
Her heroine eyes beckon me to come hither for I draw near and nearer, on that cold
sober
October

The misty cold.
The misty cold...
'Twould be a blazing fire within my bones if not for that ****** misty cold.
Warm me now; I take thy hand with thy ring that I place upon thee from the kiss of the sea.
One day I too will greet thy queen and upon her sleeve she will bear my love as we walk down that isle on All Hallows' Eve.
I take thy hand and place upon thee the kiss of my sea.

All is naught or ill forgot; for I stand ***** upon that plot that dear October bought.
Filling my head with sense and thought and hoping my love would soon be sought upon that tomb that I too will rot.
In the misty cold, crisped and withered, toiled and rot; I want her mine but she is not.

So here I am, hungover in that
Bleak
sober
October.
This was written in the light and inspiration of Edgar Allan Poe's work.

Every Halloween I dress up, and become a "character"; I tell stories and write poems for whomever I may be impersonating. This years costume is the Raven himself: Edgar Allan Poe, so I thought I would write a poem with him in mind.
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