November death poems and poems about death for November. Read and share these heartfelt November death poems with loved ones, friends and family members. Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for non-death related poems or November Poems.
Anthony O. Mitchell Jr.
age, april, august, autumn, beautiful, beauty, boat, change, death, february, happy, imagination, introspection, january, journey, july, june, life, nature, november, october, summer, tree, winter,
If these eyes shall become blinded, and if this
hair shall come to be combed thinly and grey;
No, it would not be the end of the world.
I would still see beauty therein this world through
the songs of Crickets and Feathered Songsters.
The breeze would yet whisper and trees still dance.
I would yet smell the freshly bloom of Spring.
I'd still endure Summer's sweltering heat.
I'd yet feel Autumn's leaves crunch 'neath these toes.
I'd still long to be fireside with Winter.
Disabled or not, perhaps I'd yet walk
therein wonderful imagination.
How I'd be forever young at heart!
Then just as one journey came to an end,
I'd indeed greet another with a smile.
Jesse James Forster
autumn, beautiful, dark, depression, grief, heartbroken, how i feel, introspection, loneliness, lost love, metaphor, november, pain, seasons, september, sorrow,
Overwhelmed with fear I whispered into the rain
Disarming defenses, Giving in to the gray
Tearing down all of my shelter within my hollowed decay
While this echoing silence gave every tear drop a name
They begin filling the voids with mundane hopes for a change
Heaven will save me from this hell and blue skies will reign
Lazily lay in green grass watching clouds drift away
It's all but a deflated dream now that the colors have changed
My thoughts have become restless noise of uncertainties rearranged
Damning all of my emotions, lies decorated with grace
Now I stand with a hardened heart in the sobering autumn rain
I'm disarmed and defenseless, Giving in to the gray
The wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
when trumpets sounded in herald
twenty-nine lives where lost
as the sea battered and tossed
where all hope had fallin, imperiled
Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgearld
By Gordon Lightfoot
art, death, depression, desire, emotions, fate, november,
Buried in my garden
Along with my tears
Memories of kisses
Followed by the dark years
Walk inside my grey skies
Place my black robe upon your shoulders
Weep for the angel who never was
Wilted flowers now eaten by doves
Clouds hide the searing pain
Destiny mocks me, such disdain
Rain drops fall on my heartless soul
Happiness was lost, so very long ago
death, emotions, november, pain,
perhaps it was the cold november wind
that reminded me of the bitter bite
the cold touch of death's hands
or the lips of someone gone
perhaps it was the leaves
being tossed about, like a mind
unable to grasp the reality
of another life, gone so young
perhaps it was the trees
now colorless, half dressed
that reminded me, everything must die
perhaps it was the sunset
thick black clouds, surrounded by red
that reminded me
my heart bleeds the same...
another life is gone
another season's changed
another day is gone
another scar is born
etched forever in my mind
my heart bled the same....
In the cool fog of the predawn morning
on a cold November day.
Darkness is apparent, waiting,
A shadow bouncing along the edges of the grey.
The wind howls a melancholy song,
like a Bassist plays the blues.
A dark tall figure looms there,
the wind barely ruffles its hair.
A laborador stand on hind legs,
not the playful dance of a dog, but the haunting stance of a demon.
It stares straight through me.
I am frozen in fear as it draws near.
A hauntingly human walk as it steps from the shadows on my block.
A deep, menacing growl pierces the winds howl.
It speaks, "Come with me," and the darkness closes in.
My soul was not saved
on this cold
Plant A Tree Poetry
celebrity, confusion, fear, grave, leadership, november, political,
oh my lord a story so stark
familiar hoof marks stab at a monarch
do what you must
passion will always trump lust
donald will not draw my ballot mark
Dominique Jon Apple Webb
bereavement, christian, dad, father daughter, november, remember, remembrance day,
My dad always choked when he tried to name,
His friends and comrades who hadn’t returned,
From sorties, dogfights and reconnaissance jobs,
And would motion by his hands about church.
The service on Remembrance Sunday morning,
Would let his worn, torn-up, shredded insides out,
Give him his heart of thoroughfare and ambition,
Respected his silence on the matter of the mind.
art, beautiful, death, feelings, introspection, november, poetry,
Desires fly away in the night
Eternity grips the coming coldness
Angels whisper soft words of solace
Timeless, torments fade away
Home at long last
celebrity, death, dedication, farewell, november, woman,
You starred in Worzel Gummidge with Jon Pertwee.
Sadly, you died in 2001 at the age of thirty-three.
You starred in Four Weddings and a Funeral and sadly, you had a funeral of your own.
You were one of the greatest actresses that Great Britain has ever known.
You also starred in Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit.
People loved you because you were sweet and cute.
You died over a decade ago of an acute asthma attack.
Sadly, you passed away and you won't be coming back.
[Dedicated to Charlotte Coleman (1968-2001) who died on November 14, 2001.]
death, family, november, poetry, remember,
Looking around in a quite-silent place,
Flowers and candles are scattered everywhere.
People unite with their dead loved ones,
Which strengthens their family bond.
Remembering them with all their heart,
With wishes "If you were still alive".
Children make friends and play,
While adults talk about their day.
November 1st is the day she'll never forget,
Because what she always see,
Are people who never forget their family.
Like a child too long at the fair
November is tired and needs to slumber
Like an aging woman past her prime
November is grey and sad with
black cloaked skeletons of trees
who once wore summer's splendor
Like a homeless urchin
November has no home, no purpose
and wears tattered clothes of
a lost Autumn
Like the spent tears of a widow
for a husband who did not come
back from a long ago war
November's battle is over, its weapons
thrown down, its armies defeated
Like the last dying wish on a soldier's lips
it pulls at the skirts of an oncoming December,
and begs to be laid in its final rest
in the graveyard of a dying year....
Skylar Rae Montgomery
death, depression, funeral, loss,
On this cold, weary day,
Where we gather in sorrow,
Wondering what's in store
For tomorrow's tomorrow.
A long life lived
To its fullest extent.
You are long loved forever,
And within your love we are content.
No longer will you suffer,
For we have heavy hearts
Drenched in tears and sorrow
As we watch for you under the stars.
We would give up all of the world
Just for us to see
That little piece of heaven
Looking back at thee.
Tonight as we sleep,
Tonight as we lay,
Tonight as we dream,
Tonight we will pray.
A beloved mother and grandmother,
A beloved great-grandmother of mine,
A beloved person to us all.
We have been but victims of a crime.
bereavement, confusion, death, feelings,
I am supposed to cry
When somebody dies
But even though I try
A tear I do not cry
When Grandma passed
It was my last
A glance I cast
Into my past
dream, grief, loss, lost love, november, rain,
No more do I see your eyes
just the sadness remains,
and the hurt I feel inside
comes like cold November rain
It wasn't meant to last forever
and can never be found again
in a dream we go on together
in the cold November rain
Day by day
I wake in vain
to a life lost, stolen away
in the cold November rain
Longing to feel you lying next to me
to hear your sweet voice call my name
to dry my tears, to set me free
in the cold November rain
Life is a mystery, sometimes we walk alone
burden with a loss, grieving pain
until death calls its own
in the cold November rain
ALesiach © 02/23/2018
Patricia Garcia- Howard-Bramble
america, bereavement, celebration, change, cry, dark, death,
November what have you done
Each day, each event I will remember
Cold winds, grey clouds,black tunnel.
Sound of pain
Loud screams, flying bodies,
November why did you have to speed.
Storm is brewing
News is breaking
Lives are decreasing.
Fatality all round
The world is changing
Strange events are occurring.
Times are surely changing
appreciation, death, november, patriotic, soldier, tribute, war,
the unknown soldier
from her lapel
to his tomb
posted on August 18, 2018
this was your day
shared by some others
born at the same time
dog tag images remain
etched in aluminum
happy and sad, synchronous
you left too quickly
no time for goodbye
as I watched our future fade
with the spirit in your eyes
five years have passed
a life together ended
a shadow on my heart
angst, death, history, introspection, sad, social, time,
Knowing this, spastic
ancient films of Dallas,
November 1963, move
silently as we clasp hands
backwards in recognition
to quiet realization
of grassy knoll reality.
Paint drops of leaves
splatter sidewalks. There are
no things but in things—
the turtle shell of words,
cocoons of verbiage
chambering our adjectives,
activating final syncopations
of magic bullets
does not care—
like brain matter
We stare into silver emptiness,
a cold, carnal awareness—
a glancing touch
of sky’s silken casket.
death, november, remembrance day, silence, sound, surreal, tribute,
an eerie silence
on remembrance day
posted on August 19, 2018
autumn, grave, surreal, wind,
nudging gate ajar
posted on February 11, 2019
age, creation, death, goodbye, hope, november, spiritual,
Wooly wisps of vaporous white,
Wind pushed across grey-blue sky,
casting their shadows on the fall stripped trees.
leaving behind only rusty remnants of lonely leaves,
clinging to bent and barren branches.
Dwindling life wanes sadly old,
as peace makes its home above.
Quiet now resonates so sweetly from the earth.
Sending us hope for the new to come.
"Life doesn't end here", the silence whispers;
It fades just awhile as it gives birth to the future.
M. L. Kiser
dark, death, heartbroken, horror, november, october, scary,
The reaper has no
Reservations; he works from
A well-defined list.
Numbers revolve in
Cosmic order; when one is
Up, it is just up.
childhood, death, death of a friend,
She was a doll
Always wore a smile
Her laugh set fairies on fire
She was the best
We all loved her
She had cancer though
She was only twelve
We made a large card
To send to Mayo Clinic
Where she had been for two weeks
We all loved her
She was a favorite classmate
Treasured more every day
We lost her in November
The same month as my grandmother
Two funerals in one month
I was twelve
Worst month of my life
When I lost her, I lost my innocence.
Until that minute
I did not know
That death came for children.
autumn, dark, death, fantasy, november,
November's breath is chill
Beneath daubed clouds of grey
While distant echoes shrill
Departed souls do stray
Amongst dark bystanders
Lady death meanders
Submitted on September 27, 2019, for contest MAKE IT SIX (photo #2) sponsored by JOSEPH MAY