Black Day In July
Black day in july
Motor city madness has touched the countryside
And through the smoke and cinders
You can hear it far and wide
The doors are quickly bolted
And the children locked inside
Black day in july
Black day in july
And the soul of motor city is bared across the land
As the book of law and order is taken in the hands
Of the sons of the fathers who were carried to this land
Black day in july
Black day in july
In the streets of motor city is a deadly silent sound
And the body of a dead youth lies stretched upon the ground
Upon the filthy pavement
No reason can be found
Black day in july
Black day in july
Motor city madness has touched the countryside
And the people rise in anger
And the streets begin to fill
And theres gunfire from the rooftops
And the blood begins to spill
Black day in july
In the mansion of the governor
Theres nothing that is known for sure
The telephone is ringing
And the pendulum is swinging
And they wonder how it happened
And they really know the reason
And it wasnt just the temperature
And it wasnt just the season
Black day in july
Black day in july
Motor citys burning and the flames are running wild
They reflect upon the waters of the river and the lake
And everyone is listening
And everyones awake
Black day in july
Black day in july
The printing press is turning
And the news is quickly flashed
And you read your morning paper
And you sip your cup of tea
And you wonder just in passing
Is it him or is it me
Black day in july
In the office of the president
The deed is done the troops are sent
Theres really not much choice you see
It looks to us like anarchy
And then the tanks go rolling in
To patch things up as best they can
There is no time to hesitate
The speech is made the dues can wait
Black day in july
Black day in july
The streets of motor city now are quiet and serene
But the shapes of gutted buildings
Strike terror to the heart
And you say how did it happen
And you say how did it start
Why cant we all be brothers
Why cant we live in peace
But the hands of the have-nots
Keep falling out of reach
Black day in july
Black day in july
Motor city madness has touched the countryside
And through the smoke and cinders
You can hear it far and wide
The doors are quickly bolted
And the children locked inside
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
My Heart Is In July
shifting away from June's bud
to leave dandelions scattered in the yard
this dawn of July
marks the end of a lie
a lie from past season
for a strong reason
in July
robin will make herself shy
and cover her reddish breast
with her celestial hued crest
then flap her wings to fly
close against the sky
i want to kiss July
and make July
lasting forever
in beauty but not ephemeral
i will preserve July
on my canvas and with magic brush
so that she will be enthralled and blush
i will paint July
with charming colour
so that she will be captured in delight
and her soul enraptured
because my heart is in July.
poem by Niji Chrys
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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July....
July is the month where the families get the barbeque grills fired up.
July is the month where the night sky is light up with fire works.
July is the month where many families go out of town to be with family.
July is the month where many kids are dreary because it’s a month away for school.
July is the month where America gets to celebrate its independence from England.
July is the month where many people are dying of the heat of the summer.
July is my favorite month because it’s the time that I get to be myself around my family.
poem by Natasha Ligons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Weaving (Love Poem)
July was always the month for me. I cling
to July as if there are no doubts about
July. I feel human enough and animal enough
in July. I identify with those harvests flying
just above the rock walls, and then bursting
from themselves into the ground, into each other.
I'm talking about a plain garden with apricots
and lemons, where the cicadas play in the sage but never
show their watery guitars. And what is that harvest
all about? Their music is a harvest, an overflowing
harvest, whether those musicians and their instruments
are visible, or not.
I'm saying I have everything in July. I'm saying
that July is the birth of it. July
the spiders born in the camellias. July
the hummingbird and the olive―
and that's Linda Janakos' hummingbird
asleep in her lap, that's Linda Janakos' olive,
the one with the breast inside of it.
This is what my sister stitched
to the weaving inside her brother's head.
poem by Doren Robbins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Was July
I am resurrected, after dying for want of you,
It all came down upon me in sunny July,
Where had you gone, I wish I knew,
That I care no more, should come as no surprise,
I can live without you now,
It's like I never loved you at all,
The numbness seeped in after my death,
It was in July, if you recall,
Things were fine in May and June,
I don't know what I did wrong,
But in July you sang a different tune,
And you left me all alone,
My heart once again belongs to me,
As I look back to last July,
The sunshine once again I see,
No tears to cloud my eyes,
So let me stay as you left me,
I won't even say goodbye,
You're now a fading memory,
But I'll never forget July,
poem by Vallerie Lobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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4th Of July
Born of the age
Flagged hopes
Censored rage
The black clad box
Bombs bursting in air
Bleed white red and blue
Cried dawn's early light
For the hope
Oh where has it gone
Brothers sisters stand firmly and try
Reaching the spacious ski-ies
Fourth of July
Lie by the sword
Black times
False reward
The greetings of doom
So proudly they hail
Lost fortune of free
The stripes and bright stars
Promise lost
Oh where has it gone
Brothers sisters stand firmly and try
Reaching the spacious ski-ies
Fourth of July
Brothers sisters stand firmly and try
Reaching the spacious ski-ies
Fourth of July
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black July
The fastest dog in Millstreet when I was a young boy
Was owned and bred by Maurice Connors his name was Black July
Trained by Paddy O Keeffe at Dooneen a leading trainer then
In the Kennedy cup at Limerick he had a famous win.
A son of Cheeky Tippy and Maddest Lily the striking black and white
Was Ireland's fastest greyhound when he was in full flight
The Irish Derby favourite he was the one to beat
And one of the fastest greyhounds to come out of Millstreet.
Sold to Harry O Neill the bookmaker the word it got around
For a record price for a greyhound then 'twas said two thousand pounds
And Black July for Maurice Connors had surely paid his way
For two thousand pounds in those times worth thirty grand today.
Since Denny Dennehy and John Joe Cronin's hounds brought to their Paish fame
Duhallow home of champion dogs so many one could name
And Black July a top class dog when he was in his prime
The mighty speedster from Liscreagh inspired the bards to rhyme.
It must be nearly forty years how quick the time did fly
Since Millstreet had a champion dog his name was Black July
And Millstreet had many great dogs since of their big wins we hear
And the latest Donie Mahony's champ the great Mountleader Peer.
Trained at Dooneen by Paddy O Keeffe a leading trainer then
In the Kennedy cup at Limerick he had a famous win
The fastest greyhound of his year when I was just a boy
Was owned and bred at Liscreagh the mighty Black July.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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July!
Raindrops of one July
gifted me flowers of friendship
and for the change in season
the same July offered
me flowers of hatred,
I turned speechless
without any words
like a silent earth...
July 10,2009
poem by Rema Prasanaa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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July
It's warm outside
But I can hear the snow
Falling on my window
I had to go away
To somewhere deeper down
I know it's my mistake
To take off out of this town
And June becomes July
This road's on fire
And my train's running slow
It rains against my window
I had to get away
To somewhere no-one knows
I know it's my mistake
To take off now in this way
And June becomes July
The air is thin
When you're above the clouds
I see them from my window
It's strange to get away now
To somewhere no-one goes
I know it's my mistake
But I don't even know now
And June becomes July
And June becomes July
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene from One From The Modern
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hatred evokes pity
Mary took pity in July’s servant;
July took pity in Mary’s servant.
Yes, Mary and July are good neigbours.
The servants’ conditions didn’t evoke pity;
The mutual hatreds buried in the hearts
Of Mary and July did all the tricks.
Pity on one is the hatred of someone.
22.09.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The 4th of July
I walked out to see the world on the Forth of July
A sleek black bird with bright, round, yellow eyes
Marched outside my front window
Clearly, not a Crow; Crows hop in an aggressive, impressive way
This smaller beauty, maybe a Brewers Blackbird,
Marched with head up and chest out as if to a tune
Over a hill, near the road
A Robin searched the newly cut hay for his breakfast
Trees moved gently in the breeze
The pond waters did not stir
Except when a damsel fly swooped low
No tractors or mowers noised the air
Motorcycles and trucks rested this holiday morning
The early quiet now broken by a raucous Crow
Calling from a tree down by the creek
Answered quickly by another up in the woods
In the first hours of this day
A rocket launched six months ago
On target, on time
Penetrated a comet to examine its dust
Explore how our universe began
I walked out to see on the Forth of July
July 4,2005
poem by Marjorie DeBol DeFazio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pride Of Africa
I can hear and see clear
I can see the signs of cascading black waterfalls
Drizzling our soil with dazzling beauties
Charming sight to behold like a bouncing breast
Beauty in black
Beauty so unique
And beauty second to none
I can hear and see clear
A beauty best known to the diamond merchants
Not to the lay man who easily pick on street
I can hear and see clear
A sound of beating black drums
And a singing of a dulcet black voice
Coming from gently all the sides
Like cold gentle breezes blowing
from atlantic ocean
So cool and gentle
A black beauty carefully composed in black
Sparking lightenings across the globe
Just a bright-black skin and a green soil
As agents of beauties that brighten the world
It is nature's gifts that can't be changed
Beauties of intelligents
Beauties of creativities
And beauties of cultures
That is black in beauty
A beauty beaming even in the dark
For all to see and to believe
For all to taste and appreciate
That is black beauty
The prides of Africa....
¤NTA! !
(30/july/2012)
11: 41 - 11: 58
poem by Naseeru Taneemu Annuree
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumn In July
It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
Mid July? Or Not
It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
A Day Like No Other...
It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
Autumn In July (rated in group)
It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
New York... Not In Autum
It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
Days Like This...Remind Me Of You
It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
Only On This Day...
For: J.L.
It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
July
In July I caught a butterfly,
it's peacock markings
and its gentle wings
fluttered in my hand
to tickle and delight.
In July we saw the flowers bloom,
raising heads to the sun,
opening their petals
in the strong summer heat,
a maze of colours.
In July I watched you mellow,
red hot flames flickered and died
as did your ardor
against a backdropp of milky clouds
that hid a golden sky.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumn...Will Never Be The Same
FOR: J.L. With Love
It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.