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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Related quotes
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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[ Late August ]
Heat still sizzles in the fields
In August summer still yields
The sun shines to no regret
Wind sauntering 'til sunset
'though heat is being cool off by the rain
Preserving flowers, and meadow - green
But summer still taking what it brings
The August incense with fugacious wings
Bounty blooms, butterflies, bees are insane
Birds, crickets sing and the night listens
Summer's sky, bright burst so clear
It's the late August in summer's fair
Summer in August still in standby
Sooner balmy weather is coming by
The hot temper will bicker with cool air
With soothing breeze here comes September
Ency Bearis
(c) copyright 2012
poem by Ency Bearis
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August 05
M) The month of August
In the summer of 2005
In June I turned 18
My best friend moved back in state
In April I got a girlfriend since our first date
I met her last August
Later that year went to dust
H) I received a call on a hot summer day
The mood went a different way
She sounded like she cried
Like someone or something died
M) We started to change
Said I had become strange
We started to change
Hands against the wall
H) You wanted to escape
Cried, a victim of rape
I offered my help
M) What happened to the past?
A time that didn’t last
We changed too fast
H) You wanted to die
Then started to cry
I said I would help
You fought against the pain
Didn’t let your life dwain
You didn’t go insane
You won against the pain
M) Close to one year
Faced another fear
I broke your heart
I tore us apart
You chose a different fate
Tried to save us too late
I know there is nothing to save
I will bare this to my grave
H) M) I failed and succeeded
Helped you through his crime
We died in our prime
We are separate now
We were not meant to last
And you excepted your past
August 31,2005
My problem= M) helping her=H)
poem by Isaac Helms
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August
August brings so many things to mind
Like county fairs with fun foods and rides easy to find.
Catfish scream louder than ever for our fishing poles,
Inviting us to joyous jaunts at our favorite watering holes.
The dog days of summer start drawing to a close,
But there’s still time for a lake visit or just a sprinkler hose.
August August, we thank you for your role in this summer.
Without you no doubt this season would be a real bummer.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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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
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My little august bloom
My little august bloom
I will always love you
Even when I am feeling blue
Where ever you may be
I will be there next to you
I will always love you
My little august bloom
If you ever cry
I can see it in the sky
I will light a candle for you
My little august bloom
Every breath that I take
I take it just for you
I wish that I was there with you
My little august bloom
You will always be the light
That warms my coldest nights
You shine bright within my eyes
The only reason for my life
My little august bloom
I am so in love with you
Nick Kler
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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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.
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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I mean, if somebody said to me, junior year of college, you can go anywhere, your old man's paying for it, I'd have been gone in a flash. But I had to work. Every summer my mother would say, 'Get that job and hold on to it until August 30.'
quote by Chris Matthews
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song Of August!
August tunes and replays
a tearful song from the heart
of Hiroshima and Nagasaki
and monsoon droplets
resonate that heartfelt song
on the strings of August.......
August 2,2009
poem by Rema Prasanaa
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The Sunny Months
Poets write of May and June,
But seldom mention warm July,
And August is neglected too
Is this because few words will rhyme?
July and August spell out summer
When children play upon the sand,
Away from lessons ~ life is joyful,
Free from teacher's binding hand.
September is a lovely month
Leaves take flight along the lane.
Summer's over, back to lessons
School friends smiling once again.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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In The Fields
Lord when I look at lovely things which pass,
Under old trees the shadow of young leaves
Dancing to please the wind along the grass,
Or the gold stillness of the August sun on the August sheaves;
Can I believe there is a heavenlier world than this?
And if there is
Will the heart of any everlasting thing
Bring me these dreams that take my breath away?
They come at evening with the home-flying rooks and the scent
of hay,
Over the fields. They come in spring.
poem by Charlotte Mary Mew
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Another Season Falls 1902
Another summer evening's golden link:
Neglecting Time's progression, peaceful, man
Offers appreciation. Solstice brink
Towards September readies harvest van.
Harmonious fulfillment interlink.
Expectantly tanned weatherman can plan
Resplendent Indian Summer's warming wink.
SEnsations softly scented Spring began,
AS August ends greet Autumn's sunsets pink
SO storybook in beauty feelings fan
Nature's serendipity. Stars twink.
FALL starts gilding garland trees again
Squirrels nut while rainbow colours reign.
(30 August 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Alone on Vacation
Hot restless August days
Can’t seem to quench my thirst
Dry summer August nights
Can’t seem to get you off my mind
The mornings are even more difficult
I wake up missing you by my side
The sunny beach is a terrible site
I am not alone but alone in the crowd
As I walk alone the burning sands
I hesitated upon my every step
With thoughts of you being left behind
Us separated by the connecting ocean
Rescue me from this scorching summer
I should not be here alone without you
Only you have the perfect warmth
Around you I feel comfortable and calm
poem by Kay Barcelon
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Turning on the Heat
It seems kind of odd to me
When you have to start
Turning on the heat in August
In the middle of the summer
Is it just a cold snap
Or a precurser of things to come
It just seems so odd to me
Turning on the heat in August
poem by Jerry Abrahamson
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The Autumn Is Coming
The autumn is coming,
The August is charming,
But the rain often darkens the sky,
And I know, you certainly love me
As I once long ago loved you.
Why the yearning
Is burning inside you?
Why are you so sad when with me?
Why in August the dreams
Can't be sweet as in spring?
The rowan is reddish
But not for the anguish
Rain drops knock at the window today
What a pity that some grievances
Can't be forgotten by loving hearts.
Not in vain
The yearning is burning,
Not in vain you are sad when with me
As in August the dreams are not real,
They come true in the earliest spring.
The autumn is coming,
The August is charming,
But the rain often darkens the sky,
And I know, you certainly love me
As I once long ago loved you.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 28th of August,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Guru's Amrit
1. May Thee open Thy august mouth of wisdom
To make me drink the Amrit of knowledge:
My Sat Guru, take me out of
Darkness into light !
2. To begin with, mayst Thee make me
Contemplate on my Sat Guru !
Moment after moment, would I
Pine to kneel before Thee !
Day and night, not for a moment
Would I suffer separation from Thee
May Thee open Thy august mouth of wisdom
And make me drink the Amrit of Thy knowledge !
3. My Guru, solve the problems of my life
Now that I am born !
Humble me not among saints;
Subdue the thieves of
My emotive senses by
Strengthening the power of my will !
May Thee open Thy august mouth of wisdom
And make me drink the Amrit of Thy knowledge !
3. Subduing my emotions, break the lustful elephant
Of my pugnacious conceit
Guide me, only on one
............ of the eleven paths !
Keep me not off from
The word, SUHUM
(I m Thee).
May Thee open Thy august mouth of wisdom
And make me drink the Amrit of Thy knowledge
5. Make me wash myself clean
In the Sheshrum Nag lake;
Look not at my sinful life !
Ferry me too across, as Thou did
Mohini Sada Guru.
May Thee open Thy august mouth of wisdom
And make me drink the Amrit of Thy knowledge !
6. Moment by moment, let me
Meditate on Thee
Make me think of and do, only that
Which's right to think and do !
O, Kamadeva, Shyam Sundara
Let me not come and go
Come and go (Shuttle between life and death)
May Thee open Thy august mouth of wisdom
And make me drink the Amrit of Thy knowledge !
7. O, Bishambara, grace me with Thy presence
Stay awhile.
isten to my tale:
Revive my old memories !
May Thee open Thy august mouth of wisdom
And make me drink the Amrit of Thy knowledge !
8. Grace me with Thy presence in graceful garlands
And, show me Thy haloed aura, luster light !
My day has passed by, mayst Thee not
Make me wait any longer !
Mayst Thee open Thy august mouth of wisdom
And make me drink the Amrit of Thy knowledge.
poem by Swami Parmanand
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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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Sometimes In August
Cool, I mean cool as ever.
Anticipating these confrontations could end and bring abruptly the spark envisaged.
Dreams painted and hopes built, gladly chanting with sacred verves and voicing out in-depthly my voluminous ideas.
Sometimes in August, when plans discriminately fight one another with the aim of being supreme.
Hot, I mean hot to be exact.
If the heart beats to render courage to time, then hopes build up to defy fate.
Sometimes in August, our hopes fade, new consignments are met but proposed interrogationz would ever linger on my brains as always.
Sometimes in August.
poem by Prince Kenny Osei
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