Poems for summer

[rareboy]

We all need wonderful poetry....this thread is for posting your favourite poems about anything, by any person...including your own work.

 

[rareboy]

Hymn For The Hurting by Amanda Gorman
Everything hurts,
Our hearts shadowed and strange,
Minds made muddied and mute.
We carry tragedy, terrifying and true.
And yet none of it is new;
We knew it as home,
As horror,
As heritage.
Even our children
Cannot be children,
Cannot be.
Everything hurts.
It’s a hard time to be alive,
And even harder to stay that way.
We’re burdened to live out these days,
While at the same time, blessed to outlive them.
This alarm is how we know
We must be altered —
That we must differ or die,
That we must triumph or try.
Thus while hate cannot be terminated,
It can be transformed
Into a love that lets us live.
May we not just grieve, but give:
May we not just ache, but act;
May our signed right to bear arms
Never blind our sight from shared harm;
May we choose our children over chaos.
May another innocent never be lost.
Maybe everything hurts,
Our hearts shadowed & strange.
But only when everything hurts

 

[Vannie]

Roses are red. Violets are blue. I'm using my hand and thinking of you.

 

[purina]

^And that's a very good sign that he's your tootsy wootsy...

 

[NotHardUp1]

August afternoon --
Getting in the car in shorts.
Fuck! It's HOT! Fuck! FUUUUUUCK!!!

 

[Vannie]

^And that's a very good sign that he's your tootsy wootsy...

Thank you my little lamb chop.

 

[Vannie]

August afternoon --
Getting in the car in shorts.
Fuck! It's HOT! Fuck! FUUUUUUCK!!!

Hello my little Buttercup.

 

[rareboy]

Warm Summer Sun ​

Warm summer sun,
Shine kindly here,
Warm southern wind,
Blow softly here.
Green sod above,
Lie light, lie light.
Good night, dear heart,
Good night, good night.

- Mark Twain

 

[Peloso]

I like the mood this poem creates:

A nap

Alone in my house
during a rainstorm
I open the back door so the
sound comes in &
rain makes a little puddle
inside the screen It is
early afternoon, though dark
I lie on the bed
& put my papers down beside me I am
light, as if there were no
blame or guilt - light
inside. heavy out - each part
of me balanced, supported.

Toi Derricotte

 

[Vannie]

Like painted kites....those days and nights they went flyin by....

The world was new beneath a blue umbrella sky.

Then softer than,a piper man,one day it called to you....

I lost you to the summer wind.

 

[rareboy]

 

[rareboy]

"Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee."

W.S.

 

[unloadonme]

Lord Cozens Hardy

Oh Lord Cozens Hardy
Your mausoleum is cold,
The dry brown grass is brittle
And frozen hard the mould
And where those Grecian columns rise
So white among the dark
Of yew trees and of hollies in
That corner of the park
By Norfolk oaks surrounded
Whose branches seem to talk,
I know, Lord Cozens Hardy,
I would not like to walk.

And even in the summer,
On a bright East-Anglian day
When round your Doric portico
Your children's children play
There's a something in the stillness
And our waiting eyes are drawn
From the butler and the footman
Bringing tea out on the lawn,
From the little silver spirit lamp
That burns so blue and still,
To the half-seen mausoleum
In the oak trees on the hill.

But when, Lord Cozens Hardy,
November stars are bright,
And the King's Head Inn at Letheringsett
Is shutting for the night,
The villagers have told me
That they do not like to pass
Near your curious mausoleum
Moon-shadowed on the grass
For fear of seeing walking
In the season of All Souls
That first Lord Cozens Hardy,
The Master of the Rolls.

Sir John Betjeman

 

[NotHardUp1]

Summer for thee, grant I may be
When Summer days are flown!
Thy music still, when Whipporwill
And Oriole—are done!

For thee to bloom, I'll skip the tomb
And row my blossoms o'er!
Pray gather me—
Anemone—
Thy flower—forevermore!

Emily Dickinson

 

[Kahaih]

I am loving this season called summer
But the heat can be oh such a bummer
So I took off my clothes
From my head to my toes
And the mailman just gave me a hummer

 

[Maklaar13]

And Still Be Loving You

Love's been called a game
Winner takes it all
And anyone who plays
Plays knowing they could fall.

And if love is a game
I'd rather lose to you
Than win with someone else
And still be loving you.

 

[FPNY]

I always like the old stand by

When the weathers hot and sticky
that’s no time for dunkin’ dicky
when the frost is on the pumpkin
that’s the time for Dickey dunkin‘

unknown

 

[Alistair]

Mirror, mirror, on the wall
show me penis,
cock and balls

 

[Alistair]

A poem for winter

 

[Vannie]

Here I sit getting rid of baggage....

Must be from the stuffed cabbage....