Best August Poems

Cruising these residential Sunday
streets in dry August sunlight:
what offends us is
the sanities:
...

Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
...

Broad sun-stoned beaches.

White heat.
A green river.
...

January brings the snow,
makes our feet and fingers glow.

February brings the rain,
...

I.

No one's serious at seventeen.
--On beautiful nights when beer and lemonade
...

When I were schooled english wernt my thing.
My scores in English lurning no bells done ring.
Yea I grajaded but ain't english smart ….no lie!
Come end a school year the teach said 'By Bri.'
...

I met Tu Fu on a mountaintop
in August when the sun was hot.

Under the shade of his big straw hat
...

Here is a wound that never will heal, I know,
Being wrought not of a dearness and a death,
But of a love turned ashes and the breath
Gone out of beauty; never again will grow
...

I’ve watched the Seasons passing slow, so slow,
In the fields between La Bassée and Bethune;
Primroses and the first warm day of Spring,
Red poppy floods of June,
...

The dayseye hugging the earth
in August, ha! Spring is
gone down in purple,
weeds stand high in the corn,
...

So much rain, so much life like the swollen sky
of this black August. My sister, the sun,
broods in her yellow room and won't come out.
...

Inspired by The Lord
(Psalm 133: 3)

How pleasant to live in harmony
...

The pockets of our greatcoats full of barley...
No kitchens on the run, no striking camp...
We moved quick and sudden in our own country.
The priest lay behind ditches with the tramp.
...

Brother, today I sit on the brick bench of the house,
where you make a bottomless emptiness.
I remember we used to play at this hour, and mama
caressed us: "But, sons..."
...

Married villages emptied to the call.
Young single men from well-worn towns
Changed from suits and flat caps to khaki.
They changed their hob nailed working boots
...

In the mid August, in the second year
of my First Polar Expedition, the snow and ice of winter
almost upon us, Kantiuk and I
attempted to dash the sledge
...

We passed each other, turned and stopped for half an hour, then went our way,
I who make other women smile did not make you--
But no man can move mountains in a day.
So this hard thing is yet to do.
...

His awful skin
stretched out by some tradesman
is like my skin, here between my fingers,
a kind of webbing, a kind of frog.
...

I

In a solitude of the sea
...

By the first of August
the invisible beetles began
to snore and the grass was
as tough as hemp and was
...

Exactly living or not don’t know….
Rats are taunting…..
Human alike rat…
Desirous day night…
...

August is coming
and the goose, I'm afraid,
is getting fat.
...

.
Our beautiful children are dying
In Africa, Europe, the Middle East
Asia, the Americas,
...

My father and mother, two tiny figures,
side by side, facing the clouds that move
in from the Atlantic. August, '33.
The whole weight of the rain to come, the weight
...

'Twas August, and the fierce sun overhead
Smote on the squalid streets of Bethnal Green,
And the pale weaver, through his windows seen
In Spitalfields, looked thrice dispirited.
...

I read her to see her
And see her to perceive her.
Perceive that her mind touch
I love more, she thinks of ‘much’.
...

I saw a lonely cloud one day.
It looked small beyond the Bay.
I tried to find a second and failed,
even though I looked each way.
...

The quiet August noon has come,
A slumberous silence fills the sky,
The fields are still, the woods are dumb,
In glassy sleep the waters lie.
...

I was seventy-seven, come August,
I shall shortly be losing my bloom;
I've experienced zephyr and raw gust
And (symbolical) flood and simoom.
...

That the eyes burning ……..> Intense inferno
Don’t afraid you friends <………Get nearer to go
To draw closer sweet sight…………..>The eyes can
Smile heartful in the hellhole <……………Lover man
...

Friendship freezes misspoken or misinterpreted words.
Friendship melts the shadows of the heart.
Friendship's soul swells rolling the emblazoned red carpet at our doorways.
Friendship is the bridge binding two islands.
...

I can imagine someone who found
these fields unbearable, who climbed
the hillside in the heat, cursing the dust,
cracking the brittle weeds underfoot,
...

In a solitude of the sea
Deep from human vanity,
And the Pride of Life that planned her, stilly couches she.
...

Decoder the poet devoted to the facts
Creating metaphors everyday.
Decoding His lover’s eye that speak out wordless.
Her mind, her every part of beauty encoded.
...

There is a blue fragrance, essence of dusk.
The smoke of last things lingers on old clothes.
Sun has become as rare as goldenrod.
I call for August, but no answer comes.
...

My friend, I think the sunset knows our names.
Old leaves are whispering them to windowpanes.
A Jew's harp wind plays the elusive dusk.
Blueness comes in like a compelling tide.
...

August 6, 1916.—Officer previously reported died of wounds, now reported wounded: Graves, Captain R., Royal Welch Fusiliers.)


…but I was dead, an hour or more.
...

In your extended absence, you permit me
use of earth, anticipating
some return on investment. I must report
failure in my assignment, principally
...

Sitting in a porchway cool,
Sunlight, I see, dying fast,
Twilight hastens on to rule.
Working hours have well-nigh past.
...

1068

Further in Summer than the Birds
Pathetic from the Grass
...

I see it as it looked one afternoon
In August,-by a fresh soft breeze o'erblown.
The swiftness of the tide, the light thereon,
A far-off sail, white as a crescent moon.
...

From dust to dust our lives are thrust,
while flames the candle's brief combust.
We leave the shelter of the bay,
unmindful night will follow day,
...

Towards sunset
Saturday,17th August 2019

Inching towards sunset
...

The difficulty to think at the end of day,
When the shapeless shadow covers the sun
...

A Sonnet is a moment's monument,
Memorial from the Soul's eternity
To one dead deathless hour. Look that it be,
Whether for lustral rite or dire portent,
...

(In memory of Stephen (Reggie) Pearce
of Kilnsea,1980–2005)

The wind blows cold through the churchyard trees
...

Propped on a stick he viewed the August weald;
Squat orchard trees and oasts with painted cowls;
A homely, tangled hedge, a corn-stalked field,
And sound of barking dogs and farmyard fowls.
...

Attentive eyes, fantastic heed,
Assessing minds, he does not need,
Nor urgent writs to sup or dine,
Nor pledges in the roseate wine.
...

Aphrodisiac zebra dance
silence……………..> on-no into tune twin
Aphrodite mood in love!
...

In the slight ripple, the fishes dart
Like fingers, centrifugal, like wishes
Wanton. And pleasures rise
as the eyes fall
...

With tearful eyes I said my goodbyes
To Aunt and Uncle, many years ago.
Their home was Jackson Tennessee
Where Pearl River waters floweth free.
...

It’s the Africa in me
that loves the forest in which I wake,
that sees and hears its fauna and flora and revels in their names.
...

(a.m.) the city
was split by lightning,
stripped down to bone, and tortured,
its flesh lashed by flames…
...

YEARS of the modern! years of the unperform'd!
Your horizon rises--I see it parting away for more august dramas;
I see not America only--I see not only Liberty's nation, but other
...

One moment alone in the garden,
Under the August skies;
The moon had gone but the stars shone on, -
Shone like your beautiful eyes.
...

Roman Occupation of Britain, A.D. 300


Legate, I had the news last night --my cohort ordered home
...

~ Bio Psychic Kiss ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK
16 August 2010
...

My garden blossoms pink and white,
A place of decorous murmuring,
Where I am safe from August night
And cannot feel the knife of Spring.
...

"Will you go to war just for a scrap of paper?" -- Question
of the German Chancellor to the British Ambassador,
August 5, 1914.
...

Where The River Mingles With The Fathomless Sea,
Where The Moon Floats Between The Sky Starry,
Where Wishing Upon Falling Stars Can Answer Every Prayer-
My Love, I Shall Meet You There.
...

He woke; the clank and racket of the train
Kept time with angry throbbings in his brain.
Then for a while he lapsed and drowsed again.
...

I

If nature is life, nature is death:
It is winter as it is spring:
...

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.
...

I

In a solitude of the sea
Deep from human vanity,
...

But you can have the fig tree and its fat leaves like clown hands
gloved with green. You can have the touch of a single eleven-year-old finger
on your cheek, waking you at one a.m. to say the hamster is back.
You can have the purr of the cat and the soulful look
...

Resentment mixed with greed
Are the tunes she sings
From love and lust she bleed
On envy she feed
...

~ End Not My Inner Swash Slush ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK
3 August 2010
...

Spat out of the mouth of Satan
Comes forth a needy demon
With desires exploding
Out of proportion
...

While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead
I played about the front gate, pulling flowers.
...

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;
...

And you, ye stars,
Who slowly begin to marshal,
As of old, in the fields of heaven,
Your distant, melancholy lines!
...

A sonnet is a moment's monument, --
Memorial from the Soul's eternity
To one dead deathless hour. Look that it be,
Whether for lustral rite or dire portent,
...

Parallel lines
Move equidistant from each other,
Under all circumstances,
Whether they move straight
...

Brother, that breathe the August air
Ten thousand years from now,
And smell—if still your orchards bear
Tart apples on the bough—
...

You, Doctor Martin, walk
from breakfast to madness. Late August,
I speed through the antiseptic tunnel
...

Seven nations stood with their hands on the jaws of death.
It was the first week in August, Nineteen Hundred Fourteen.
I was listening, you were listening, the whole world was listening,
And all of us heard a Voice murmuring:
...

My April Love is always in my heart
My April Love from me will ne'er depart.
She always brings the 'Joy of Spring' to me,
My April Love forever mine will be!
...

Hope is not for the wise, fear is for fools;
Change and the world, we think, are racing to a fall,
...

Just because we've torn their statues down,
and cast them from their temples,
doesn't for a moment mean the gods are dead.
Land of Ionia, they love you yet,
...

If all the year was summer-time,
And all the aim of life
Was just to lilt on like a rhyme –
Then I would be your wife.
...

Hear ye my statute, men of Attica--
Ye who of bloodshed judge this primal cause;
Yea, and in future age shall Aegeus's host
...

The Approaching Of The Truth
August 13, 2023

When you saw a city turned into ash
...

136

Have you got a Brook in your little heart,
Where bashful flowers blow,
...

bright pink fingernails
a straw hat low on her brow
cool in sunglasses
...

Jealous Love

Covered in blood
I trudged along,
...

(Nicola Sacco -- Bartolomeo Vanzetti)
Executed August 23, 1927
...

Time over Tuesday, August almost gone,
So little left of summer to dream on.
I write a poem on the windowglass.
Quatrains waver like shadows in the grass.
...

My rose has walked away
I feel the same, after a new day
I'm fuel by uncontrollable rage
It's frustrating living this life
...

I -- A Pleasant Afternoon

for Michael Brownstein and Dick Gallup
...

Generally Robert Frost remains in top
But Today's top five hundred list of poets,
It is exceptional, because
William Shakespeare today is rank one
...

(France, August first, 1914)

Far and near, high and clear,
Hark to the call of War!
...

August 23- International Day for the Remembrance of the Slave Trade and Its Abolition.

Weighty bell's departing peel.
Rip ocean's heart keenest keel.
...

Smiths Buildings No. 19
Patons Lane,
Dundee.
Sept the 6th. 1877.
...

This poem is dedicated to Omer Adegair - shedding tears of (happiness and sadness) . This poem is dedicated to the young Sudanese generation who made the change with bare hands in their peaceful uprising of December 2018*

Let's begin the march
The one thousand miles today
...

You took me by surprise, when you picked me up.
Massaging my neck with such gentle strokes.
You moved your hands so softly,
Slowly caressing my cool naked body.
...

Sing me a thrush, bone.
Sing me a nest of cup and pestle.
Sing me a sweetbread fr an old grandfather.
...

1.

You lay in the nest of your real death,
Beyond the print of my nervous fingers
...

Gone, gone again,
May, June, July,
And August gone,
Again gone by,
...

That we've broken their statues,
that we've driven them out of their temples,
doesn't mean at all that the gods are dead.
O land of Ionia, they're still in love with you,
...

The girl in the tea shop
Is not so beautiful as she was,
The August has worn against her.
She does not get up the stairs so eagerly;
...