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
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Long Ago
I’d like to speak of this memory…
but it’s so faded now…as though nothing is left—
because it was so long ago, in my early adolescent years.
A skin as though of jasmines…
that August evening— was it August?—
I can still just recall the eyes: blue, I think they were…
Ah yes, blue: a sapphire blue.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Evening Dress in the Afternoon
I don't know your name
couldn't find you photo, even on Google
but I know that you must be
a high-society sophisticate
in the butterfly world
svelte body sheathed
in basic black
wings black too, at the start
then bands of palest blue
give way to transparent tips.
You wear this
enchanting evening dress
with the detached cool
that comes with class
even though the sun is shining
this hot August August afternoon
sit unmoving
on a lily stem
while tiny white ingenues
flit about below
to curry favor.
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Far Off
I should like to relate this memory ...
but it is so faded now ... scarecely anthing is left --
because it lies far off, in the years of my early manhood.
A skin as if made of jasmine ...
that night in August -- was it August? -- that night ...
I can just barely remember the eyes; they were, I think, blue ...
Ah yes, blue; a sapphire blue.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
January five
I'll always remember,
those late afternoons.
That lasted forever and
ended so soon. (Mandy Moore)
You were gone for so long
and came in august.
Asked me what happened,
why can't you walk?
Boy how i tell you,
promise me you won't cry,
when you'll find
I am dying.
January i got to know,
February you called
March i shouted at you,
April i faked smiles and hided from you,
may, June i bore syringes
august i hided my b'day
and now i want to say...
Take me to your wonderland.
Make me feel i am in safe-hands.
Baby i want to cry,
want to shed them,
controlled from January five.
poem by Pratibha Awasthi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Our birthdays were close together
We always celebrated our birthdat together. My birthday was the 16 of August. And Arthur birthday was the 22 of August. My mother would always have a cake for the two of us. Even the kind that I loved. She would never forget. That is one of the things I loved about my mother. written and Posted 8/15/09 In the memory of my mother Esther Feber Klayton
poem by Susie Sunshine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Year 1894
The Year Was 1894
A year I can't ignore.
I saw an image in a dream
it was surreal consciousness stream.
I saw a motorcycle with blue eyed grown boy-
I was shortly filled with joy.
Then I started to cry deep in my gut
something bad had happened
I was distraught.
Dream fades and with tears in my eyes-
I don't know if this is a past life.
But left an impression on me—
will find out if it is a tragedy.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 29,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Year 1894
The Year Was 1894
A year I can't ignore.
I saw an image in a dream
it was surreal consciousness stream.
I saw a motorcycle and the blue eyed boy-
I was filled with joy.
Then I started to cry in my gut
something bad had happened
I was distraught.
Dream fades and with tears in my eyes-
I don't know if this is a past life.
But left an impression on me—
will find out if tragedy.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 29,2012
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Stuck In The August Rain
Brings jasmine tea on a painted tray
And bends to kiss my frown away.
But Im still still stuck in the august rain;
Stuck out in the cloudburst once again.
The covers on, the coast is clear.
Were all battened down, only us here.
But Im still still stuck in the august rain;
Stuck out in the cloudburst once again.
She walks between the lines
And she can read my signs.
Stuck out in the august rain:
Out in the cloudburst once again.
Single-minded in my gloom.
I appear to revel in this darkened room.
But Im still still stuck in the august rain;
Stuck out in the cloudburst once again.
She walks between the lines
And she can read my signs.
Stuck out in the august rain:
Out in the cloudburst once again.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Secret Life Of Bees
my memories call to me, the sight of my mother plays in my head.
T-ray doesn't speak of her
When he does he just says that she left me
so i ran away with rosaleen
I sure did.Stole her right outta the hospital before they put her back in jail.
i found myself in a small town Tiburon, South Carolina
looking for clues that my mother had been there
living with the calendar sisters (may, june and august)
Pretending to be someone I'm not headed to place I'm certain I'm not going.
The honey makers, as they are called
honey, honey, honey is used for everything
June played for the dead, while May mourned for them.
May was the world's twin, feeling the pain of everybody
Her wailing wall was full of notes I bet some where for june and neil
sorrow grabs a hold of the house
When Zack's arrested for throwing a bottle, May couldn't take it.
Till we found out that the river how it claimed her life.
A letter is all that's left
For may: May she find peace in god's arms
A sign was all need to know I was loved by her.
I finally told August the truth, and she told me the answer to the questions.
August gave me my mother's things
There was my sign
But my peace didn't last long
Then all of a sudden the devil himself was on the doorstep
Living in the past; he grabbed my hair and tried to yank me out.
After I learned the truth about my mother and the way T. Ray used to be
And seeing him now. the only question i had for him now was aboout my question, as i watched him drive
thats when august, june, rosaleen and the daughters of mary, they became my new family and that's how it will stay/
poem by Tatiana Enriquez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
August 15
The fifteenth of August is august
For, we Indians feel gusto of freedom-
an emotional gust: terrible gusto.
Kings paid once; princes restored, hence
Peace (piece?) for all echoes in halls
Outside roll away chariots
Over the labouring class-corpses;
whom death is peace; dearth is wealth.
Gusto of August is of chicken-fry 'nd Rum
And the chicken-hearted dream of Ram 'nd Rum.
Many cry for a dish of fry
But the dish is with the wry.
Battered Tri-colours shattered
And the Colours in hands severally try
To flutter along the gutter roads.
Rum and Ram make many 'hurrahs'!
In the halls over which Silence shroud.
Silence, aged sixty-four, with pointed guns emerges
Slitting doors of emergency.
No cry, no slogans, bow all, lie all
Along the dead-roads' baton-lies,
That leads to uncouth power
over our hour of failure.
Success of the some is success of the sum;
Sum aspires access to success;
Some aspire access to success.
Ventriloquists, 'nd Sychophants dog that way!
Hum! august August 15! silence, please.
poem by Nasarudheen.P. Param
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!