AUGUST THE 7th
In our cacoon
Of solitude
And a promising future
Came a BEAST
Some say from the east
Its origin
And mission
Was cloudy like mist
No one could visualize
But its effect
Will forever be in our minds
August the 7th
Was our waterloo
But we can’t overlook
What it taught us
Cause in the defeat
We came up victorious
We rose from our sleep
And turned vigilant
For
Like a thief
In the night
We know
The BEAST may return
August the 7th
10: 30 am
Back in 1998
Time stood still
Our wheels of history
Came to a halt
To rewrite a new story
A sad one indeed
The American embassy
Was bombed
The TIMOTHY MCVEIGH`S style
A bomb ladden truck
By Osama Bin Laden`s
Al Qaeda network
Towers came down crumbling
Like a pile of dirt
Glasses were flying
From buildings afar
Leaving many with scars
Many were buried
Single and married
As some lost husbands
Others wives
And many
Lost parents
In all the days
Of our lives
We will remember you
Victims of August the 7th
Your innocent blood
Was shed
On the evil altar
Of EXTREMISM
Your death
Forms the pillar of our security
And in making the world
A safer place
R.I.P
poem by Paul Oguda
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Related quotes
Defeating...That Beast
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
Think about the distance you've come,
Defeating...the beast.
Think about your decision not to run,
Away...from the beast.
Think about those knees on the ground,
Weeping for the beast.
Think about the dirt you ate,
Fed...by the beast.
Think about celebrating...
Those days ahead awaiting!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
No longer the martyr,
Defeating...that beast.
Get up...and strut about.
You've defeated...that beast.
Let those words come out of your mouth,
'I've defeated...that beast! '
Let the people see and believe it,
You've defeated...that beast.
Whoop...and hollar about,
'I've defeated...and done feeding it!
That beast is outta my house.'
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
More than a piece of cake!
Defeating...that beast.
Gone and eliminated.
Defeating...that beast.
Much more than a piece of cake.
Defeating...that beast.
But gone and eliminated.
Defeating...that beast.
More than a piece of cake.
Defeating...that beast.
Gone and eliminated.
Defeating...that beast.
Much more than a piece of cake.
Defeating...that beast.
But gone and eliminated.
That beatened up beast to beat!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Memories Re-lived
For far too long now
I have been facing backwards
Fists clenched
Back turned defiantly
On my future and the unknown
Instead I choose to plant my thoughts
In warm late August afternoons
And days gone by
Under the watchful eye of the moon
I pore over memories
Like precious treasures brought up from the sea bed
Each time I expose them to my conscious mind
They become a little fainter
A little less real
Over and over I replay them
Wishing I could go back
My soul crys for the lost oppurtunities
And beautiful summer afternoons
But now, reluctantly,
I must leave those days to rest
Where they belong, in my past
And in my mind
I stand and leave
My love, my best friend and me
To laugh forever
In the August sun
poem by Kathryn Gardiner
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August....
August is the month for kids it’s the last few weeks of freedom before a new school year begins.
August is the month where many parents are excited that its here cause they don’t want their kids home alone.
August is the last month before fall begins.
August is the only month that has fewer holidays than most months.
August is the month where most teens are happy because it means that it’s the last school year for most.
August is the month that I really don’t care for but I also like as well.
poem by Natasha Ligons
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Carnival Of Victory
The month of August, carnival for all the year,
When Anna forces the wild democracy move his way,
And showed the nation his power on a single day.
Krishna on Janamashtimi blessed his old son dear;
August 27,2011, lavish, mesmerizes far and near.
The thirteen day fast made all tyrants lay,
Like rotten meat in a garbage tray.
August, revolution, burnt all the liars.
The night guards its dear masses in fine,
Of kingdom’s: honest pearls rebuking rogues few,
Our white empress fled, in western towers safe line,
Back home, August, feasting and dancing on happy dew,
Ready to gulp the corrupts in a single drought,
Sunshine and clean air, delivered by Anna fine!
poem by Dr. Yogesh Sharma
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I Remember August
I remember August:
that breathy space before fall;
the long slow arc of the sun
touching the northern horizon.
I remember August:
its dampness confined to fog
pulled along the seashore's edge
and into the bays and rivers.
I remember
silent waves rocking small stones:
shifting, slipping, and sliding
sibilant sighs and whisperings.
I remember
the hay lying cut and straight,
drying in the summer sun
waiting for the baler to come.
I remember August:
with the soft shade and shadows,
and the long hours of twilight
creeping slowly toward the night.
On this October rain day
I remember August.
visiting Hiroshima
1>Peace Memorial Museum.
two buildings
the museum surveys the history of Hiroshima
and the advent of the nuclear bomb.
main focus August 6; the dropping of the bomb
and its outcome in human suffering
personally it upset me
2.Cenotaph for the A-Bomb Victims
Between the Museum
and the A-Bomb Dome
an arched tomb
for those who died
because
initial blast
and then
of exposure to radiation
3. The Register
Below the arch is a stone chest
holding a register
of these names,
there
are over 220,000
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fading Light
Another time it might have been so different
Oh, if only we could do it all again
But now it's just another fading memory
Out of focus, though the out line still remains
Far away, away, fading distant lights
Leaving us all behind, lost in a changing world
And you know that these are the days of our lives, remember
Like the story that we wish was never ending
We know some time we must reach the final page
Still we carry on just pretending
That there'll always be one more day to go
Far away, away, fading distant lights
Leaving us all behind, lost in a changing world
And you know that these are the days of our lives, remember
Another chance hello, another goodbye
And so many things we'll never see again
Days of lives that seem so unimportant
They seem to matter and to count much later on
Far away, away, fading distant lights
Leaving us all behind, lost in a changing world
And you know that these are the days of our lives, remember
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Holocaust Song (August 6th, '45.)
8-15 Tuesday morning
a burning flash dissolved the skies,
death reigned without warning...
August 6th, '45.
In a lightning crash of frozen moment,
thousands were incinerated and scourged alive;
firewinds flayed through paper houses...
August 6th, '45.
People cauterized to the melting earth,
their scalding blood, their flesh that fried:
they were the lucky ones...
August 6th, '45.
Who put the horror in Hiroshima?
Who wrote shock on the human eye?
Who etched terror onto mankind's future
that August 6th, '45?
Across the warscape of that flattened city
women stumbled too numb to cry,
their skin pulped with boiling blisters...
August 6th, '45.
Lines of shuffling, staring figures
too stunned and sick to wonder why,
their faces shocked but past all panic...
August 6th, '45.
People peeled like red bananas,
those people lived but quickly died;
skin that hung like paper streamers...
August 6th, '45.
Who put the horror in Hiroshima?
Who permitted genocide?
Who sanctioned that mad disaster
on August 6th, '45.
Lurching beings like lifeless corpses
silhouette an ashen sky;
they wandered, abject, without purpose...
August 6th, '45.
Whose pride murdered Nagasaki?
Whose decision prepared the lies?
Were they doomed or just unlucky
that August day, '45?
Escape's denied to all survivors,
cancers haunt them till the day they die.
And their heirs will curse the craven authors
of August 6th, '45.
poem by David SmithWhite
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Fading Lights
Another time it might have been so different
Oh if only we could do it all again
But now its just another fading memory
Out of focus, though the outline still remains
Far away, away, fading distant lights
Leaving us all behind, lost in a changing world
And you know that these are the days of our lives
Remember
Like the story that we wish was never ending
We know sometime we must reach the final page
Still we carry on just pretending
That therell always be one more day to go
Far away, away, fading distant lights
Leaving us all behind, lost in a changing world
And you know that these are the days of our lives
So remember...
Another chance hello, another goodbye
And so many things well never see again
Days of life that seemed so unimportant
They seem to matter but to count much later on
Far away, away, fading distant lights
Leaving us all behind, lost in a changing world
And you know that these are the days of our lives
Remember
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dog Days Of Summer
June arrived just yesterday, or so it
seemed to be. All that's left is one
more day, then June is history. July
can hardly wait to get here, it's almost
at our door. The days will get much
hotter, then it was the month before.
Just as we're getting used to July, it
too, will be on it's way. Around the
corner lies August, which can make
you rue, the day. If you think July was
hot, August is the worst by far. It's hard
to escape it's sweltering heat, no matter
who you are. You can take a dip in the
ocean, if you enjoy having a steam bath.
The water will never be cold, as August,
unleashes it wrath. Here it is, the
wonderful days of summer. Even though
we look forward to it, it can also be quite
a bummer!
poem by Audrey Heller
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Will to Unit Venus and Mars
I have decided to make my will and leave everything that I have to myself.
Mars is scheduled to come on August 27, to stay within 34.65 miles of earth,
Then he shall only return in 2287, by then I might be ready to rebirth,
As for 280 years shall be well enough for two lives thenceforth,
For which I shall save all that I have, as they say I am from Venus,
After all that travelling I shall be back around Earth for Mars to nest our hearth.
I will leave all my poems, love letters and everything else,
All the feelings I have, and all the secrets I have shared,
Please save them to yourself, as for I shall come back to collect.
Don’t waste any time crying as I know time is rare nowadays,
Just go rush and be aware that I won’t have a penny to spare,
I shall save everything for myself because I won’t waste a day,
On August 27 I shall be here ready for Mars,
and on 2,287, back again for we shall have our MAR GRASS.
(August 19,2007)
poem by Florida Angel
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Can't it be August again?
Can't it be August again?
When the trees swayed
With the last breath of summer upon them
The way I laughed
Without a care in the world
Summer tans beginning to linger away
And soon disappear
Can't it be August again?
When these emotions didn't exist
And all I felt was happiness
None of this depression
No, none of these feelings
Can't it be August again?
Where junior year was right around the corner
And i had a license in my hand
And car was only coming out of my mouth
Not your name
Can't it be August again?
Where you didn't even exist in my world
poem by Frani Bell
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August 7, 4: 15
J. bon jovi
It was another day
A perfect texas afternoon
A mother and two children play
The way they always do
As they raced home from the mailbox
A mother and her son
Against a little girl of 6 years old
The independant one
The deputies went door to door
Through all the neighborhood
They said I got some news to tell you folks
Im afraid it aint so good
Somehow something happened
Someone got away
Someone got the answers for what happened here today
Oh no, oh no, oh no, no, no, no
Tell me it was just a dream - august 7 4:15
God closed his eyes and the world got mean
August 7 4:15
Now the people from the papers and the local tv news
Tried to find the reason
Cop dogs sniffed around for clues
Someone shouted hit and run
The coroner cried foul
Her blue dress was what she wore
The day they laid her body down
Oh no, oh no, oh no, no, no, no
Tell me it was just a dream - august 7 4:15
God closed his eyes and the world got mean
August 7 4:15
I know tonight that theres an angel
Up on heavens highest hill
And no one there can hurt you baby
No one ever will
Somewhere someones conscience is like a burning bed
The flames are all around you
How you gonna sleep again
Oh no, oh no, oh no, no, no, no
Tell me it was just a dream - august 7 4:15
God closed his eyes and the world got mean
August 7 4:15
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come Back Clean
This is the song for a soldier
To sing as he rides from home
To the fields afar where the battles are
Or over the ocean's foam:
'Whatever the dangers waiting
In the lands I have not seen,
If I do not fall-if I come back at all,
Then I will come back clean.
'I may lie in the mud of the trenches,
I may reek with blood and mire,
But I will control, by the God in my soul,
The might of my man's desire.
I will fight my foe in the open,
But my sword shall be sharp and keen
For the foe within who would lure me to sin,
And I will come back clean.
'I may not leave for my children
Brave medals that I have worn,
But the blood in my veins shall leave no stains
On bride or on babes unborn;
And the scars that my body may carry
Shall not be from deeds obscene,
For my will shall say to the beast,
Obey
!
And I will come back clean.
'Oh, not on the fields of slaughter
And not in the prison-cell,
Or in hunger and cold is the story told
By war, of its darkest hell.
But the old, old sin of the senses
Can tell what that word may mean
To the soldiers' wives and to innocent lives,
And I will come back clean.'
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Since the end of the Cold War, Soviet aggression had been replaced by a number of particularly venomous threats, from Timothy McVeigh to Osama bin Laden.
quote by Barbara Olson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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August is the dying month
August is the dying month
When hot July struggles to keep her hold
Moving toward a hopeless chilled September
Pretending to be summer
As if children heading back to school stir the cold from the sky
It is a refined deceiver
August is a butterfly crushed on a roadway
One side dead to the pavement
The other is still vibrantly flutteringly alive
Fighting to fly away but it’s fate is already sealed
It is a delicate executioner
August is the month colors trickle from trees
A first leaf unnoticed tumbles
Sheepishly the others will shortly follow
Shamefully they will drift to the ground
It is a subtle destroyer
August is 6 PM
The disillusion of a day realized
Dinners to be eaten alone
Murky dark mixes with the daylight
Spitting out gloomy gray
It is a sophisticated betrayer
August is the death rattle
Demise by means of a Fall
Stealing gaped mouth last breaths
Swallowing everything into its earth
Coughing back a cold winter in return.
poem by Wanda Swim Strunk
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Black History Month
In January...
There they are making history.
In February...
There they are making history.
In March...
There they are making history.
In April...
There they are making history.
In May...
There they are making history.
In June...
There they are making history.
In July...
There they are making history.
In August...
There they are making history.
In September...
There they are making history.
In October...
There they are making history.
In November...
There they are making history.
In December...
There they are making history.
But...
It's nice to know
The shortest month of the year
Was chosen to celebrate
The great deeds of African-Americans!
However...
It is those LEAP YEARS,
That really have the blacks jumping for joy!
Note: 'Black History Month' along with other
works of interest can be found in...
*'MindPrints from Untouched Places-VOL I'*
~Now available online at a PC near you~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The World Trade Centre Doesn't Exist Anymore
Two-thousand and one. Eleventh of September.
A day we will always remember
When the world watched a city go ablaze;
Two tall towers were what caught the people's gaze.
Planes had flown and crashed like a missile,
With tragic consequences proving absolutely vile.
Every person left stunned, many with tearful eyes,
Not very common under pleasant blue skies.
The Pentagon next, and then followed by a field;
Shame the innocent passengers had no shield
To save themselves from their fiery end.
Man had witnessed evil like never before,
And one to take responsibility was Osama Bin Laden,
Laying back and not participating - the coward,
Possibly laughing at those who wallow and sadden.
It was a terrorist attack, one never seen before;
Who knows what else Al-Qaeda have in store?
A brutally callous attack claiming the lives
Of nearly three-thousand and two,
Including Brian Dale, Mike Cahill,
Dong Lee, and Todd Beamer, too.
We will not forget those who were victimised
For such history is always memorised.
New York City is not the same as it was before
Because, as all broken-hearted people know,
The World Trade Centre doesn't exist anymore.
poem by Stephen Cahill Furlong
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My Love For You
you buried something
deep,
in fact deeper than burying
someone
who died nine days ago,
since you want to forget
and forget
this forever, something that
you lost and would want it lost
and not want
to recover
from a distance i look at you
and shed tears for
what you buried
without much pomp of a ceremony
i pity
what cruelty you have to yourself
i bring a flower
for that which was buried and lost
it is something that i always
cherish and
remember with all the gladness of my heart
with all the gentleness of my soul
my love for you
deep in the layers of time
buried
still blooms
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Indian dawn - Anna Hazare
00.00 hours 15th August 1947
Indian Independence
Was born
But that night dawned
Only on 16th August 2011
After six four years
When *Ralegan Siddhi's sun
Rose over the
Mountenous heaps of
Corruption
Created by the
Indian elected representatives
*Anna Hazare's birth place in Maharashtra
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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