All that is noble in the world's past history, and especially the minds of the great and the good, are never lost.
quote by James Martineau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nothing Ever Last
The World's great Empires have gone to decay
They rose and they fell and each had their day
And one Super Power rise as another does fall
And the small will grow great and the great become small.
The Pharoahs and the Aztecs and the Incas as well
And the all conquering Romans too had their glorious spell
And the Spaniards and the British of the recent past
Were known to be great Empires but they too did not last.
The Soviets and Germans great power did command
But their demise not that hard to understand
Since great powers they come and great powers they go
Though nothing lasts forever as history does show.
Genghis Khan and Napoleon and Alexander the Great
These all conquering heroes had their use by date
Though in the history of the World their names living on
The Empires they ruled over like them are long gone.
Un-rivalled for supremacy as the World Super Power of today
By far the most powerful Nation is the U S of A
But as history does tell us nothing ever last
And one day they too will be a power of the past.
poem by Francis Duggan
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End Of All Things
Every city has its history.
History of great wars!
History of great works!
What makes a civilization great
Are the noble thoughts of noble men.
Savages are killed
And the empires built!
Draping of huge towers and artistic halls
Decorate the ageing
Frame of the ever-growing city.
Ballads are sung
For great many victories and achievements
Of great many kings!
But no one cares
To sing an Elegy
Of love lost
In the busy alleys
Of the towering cities!
Today,
Things worth nothing are everything.
People known since ages are now unknown.
Thoughts like parasites
Thrive on the dying emotions of heart.
Churches are libraries of knowledge.
And Bible just a fiction.
Man has ceased to live.
Only thing that he does is ‘EXISTS.’
His creations are the prophecies of his fall!
Civilization is built
On the debris of Barbarism.
It grows.
It develops.
And it culminates
To nothing but debris.
Because the highest peak
Of every civilization is Barbarism!
End of all things!
poem by Aditya Chandrasen Salvi
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It's The Conquerors Who Write The History
As they chased the wild bison on horse back they whooped and cheered loud
And they were great hunters so noble and proud
But now on the prairies the bison are rare
And the people who hunted them no longer there.
Of the great Northern Land the first people till the invaders came
And their tragic dispossession is a thing of great shame
Conquered and put into reservations for to grow old and die
The rights of Indigenous people to them did not apply.
It's the conquerors who write history as we have been told
And men they have murdered for Land and for Gold
But what matters most when history we trace
That a Country's first people must take pride of place.
You great country singers with your golden guitars,
You politicians and tycoons and billionaire movie stars
There once was a people far greater than you
And to Mother Nature they were far more true.
And the workings of Nature they did understand
And they were the people who cared for the Land
And they were displaced and oppressed and down trod
By those who believed in a different God.
They once were great warriors, wise, noble and proud
And they gave us Chief Seattle and wise Chief White Cloud
And their profound words of wisdom still living today
And such things of great beauty will never decay.
The truth may seem bitter but the truth we must face
That a Country's first people should take pride of place
And around the World Indigenous people are not treated well
Though they have such marvellous stories to tell.
The conquerors write the history as conquerors do
But to the true history they never are true
And the conquered the history never will write
And we are conditioned to believe that might is always right.
The changes keep happening and nothing seem to last
And the great herds of bison a thing of the past
And those who once hunted them were locked away
And in reservations were forced for to stay.
Out on the lone prairie their ghosts still reside
At midnight the hunters their spotted horses ride
As they chase the wild bison across the great plain
The past in the moonlight comes to life again.
poem by Francis Duggan
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HYKU on 'ANTI-WAR
War, war everywhere
Sure has to be stopped somewhere
None thinks anywhere!
Dreadful end of war
Terrifies not the powers
Surely painful scars!
War to be condemned
Anywhere in the vast world
Lest bound to be doomed!
World can not prosper
Unless anti war forces
Reign high with fervor!
War against war sure
Need of the time and people
Can be by minds pure!
Wars with purposes
At the cost of lives precious
By the minds vicious!
The world without war
Is a dream of the noble
Remains cry afar!
Wicked thinks of war
Noble dreams of peace and poise
World has wickeds all!
War and peace in turn
Make the people writhe in pain
Let the wars be burnt!
War the creation
Of all the satanic minds
Brings all destruction!
War the creation
Of wicked minds of the world
Cause of destruction!
poem by Subbaraman N V
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Knowledge
What happens to our knowledge
when we pass from here?
Will it be buried with us
for an eternity to be undisturbed,
or do we leave tracks
of our knowledge behind?
Great minds have already written down
things they did not want to forget.
Is it possible that great knowledge
is gathering dust somewhere
in those forgotten chapters
of our history?
Leonardo Da Vinci’s drawings
of airplanes and submarines.
Were they just fanciful dreams,
or were they reality?
Could these things have existed,
but of their presence in history
this knowledge for them departed?
What about Atlantis
with its knowledge unbound.
Did it really disappear
beneath the waves without a sound,
and the knowledge that they held,
did that all vanish with them?
We can only speculate
where all this knowledge goes
as new minds dream of things
that may have existed in the past.
Which leaves us with the question,
what happens to our knowledge
when we pass away from here?
4 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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The History of Now
The recording of culture is history;
but our culture is more than that.
It's the world of human action,
and the myths we make of the fact.
The recording of history is culture,
but our history is more than that.
It informs a hidden agenda.
Unconscious of motive we act.
It's the history of now, the history of now.
It's only the present that exists as endowed.
It's the history of now. The moment - KAPOW!
That knocks you right over and muddies your brow.
Through the prism of language, we know what we know.
We carry our baggage and stories of woe.
Victor and vanquished pride cannot budge,
the dead weight of hatred and ancestral grudge.
We fight our good fights with our hand on our heart;
the music is swelling as loved ones depart.
As sheep to the slaughter, the script cannot chart,
a course more ignoble: the propagandist's art.
The recording of history is culture,
but our culture is more than that.
More than the great individuals,
the scholars so love in their tracts.
The recording of culture is history;
but our history is more than that.
Not simple dates or statistics,
the full horror and gore still attracts.
It's the history of now, the history of now.
A strange contradiction that makes sense somehow.
It's the history of now, a mystery and shroud.
The past and the future: best fiction allowed.
poem by David SmithWhite
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Tales of my past
Don't write me down in history,
In reference to my past deeds,
Works I derived no joy from,
Or mistakes of those years.
Don't write me down in history,
The ages gone show little of what I am,
That part of me is truly done,
My dreams now can say it all.
Don't write me down in history,
The lessons of life flows in my blood,
My blunders are now my teachers,
The scars now my daily pledge.
Don't write me down in history,
I am yet to achieve perfection,
Still I strive for redemption,
Searching the soil for my lost glory,
Don't write me down in history,
The tales of my past I recall,
That was then, this is me,
Woes to your judgment.
poem by Venessa Ambrose
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Were Lost In A World
were lost in a world were we cannit brake free
were lost in a world were there is just know me
were lost in a world were there is pain and sorrow
were lost in a world were there is know tomorrow
were lost in a world were there is know happyendings
were lost in a world were everybodys prtending
were lost in a world were heartbreak is everyday
were lost in a world were only good pray
were lost in a world thats at war
were lost in a world were nobody can take know more
poem by Jessica Rutherford
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Much of the social history of the Western world, over the past three decades, has been a history of replacing what worked with what sounded good.
quote by Thomas Sowell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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History Will Teach Us Nothing
If we seek solace in the prisons of the distant past
Security in human systems were told will always always last
Emotions are the sail and blind faith is the mast
Without a breath of real freedom were getting nowhere fast
If God is dead and an actor plays his part
His words of fear will find their way to a place in your heart
Without the voice of reason every faith is its own curse
Without freedom from the past things can only get worse
Sooner or later just like the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later just like the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
History will teach us nothing
History will teach us nothing
Our written history is a catalogue of crime
The sordid and the powerful, the architects of time
The mother of invention, the oppression of the mild
The constant fear of scarcity, aggression as its child
Sooner or later
Sooner or later
Sooner or later
Sooner or later
Convince an enemy, convince him that hes wrong
Is to win a bloodless battle where victory is long
A simple act of faith
In reason over might
To blow up his children will only prove him right
History will teach us nothing
Sooner or later the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
History will teach us nothing
History will teach us nothing
Know you human rights
Be what you come here for
Know your human rights
Be what you come here for
Know your human rights
Be what you come here for
Know your human rights
Be what you come here for
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Three Kinds of People
The books of my history
Begins with comedy
And end with tragedy
“Son”, do you know this
Spontaneous?
If you don’t know
Don’t mind
Your father will tell you.
There are three kinds of people
But the history knows only two
The first are foxy foxes
Who do right things and
Great good deeds
They stand at the top of history
The second are mad dogs
Who do wrong things and
Great evil deeds
They stand at the bottom of history
The third are piggy hyenas
Who are neither wise nor foolish?
Who cannot do right or wrong?
The history doesn’t know them
They have no chapter in history book
Can you choose among them for
Your inspiration and if you
Can heed my advice
The foxes are the best stars
To stick to.
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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Joy In The Present
I never want to go back
Dwell in the past no more
Another has come I would rather cherish it
I love who I am now
There is no glory in my history
Full of misery
It’s a new dawn
Though my heart trembles with fear
Some great touch of he who is above
Do not panic
I will dread not
I will fear not
He is with me, he’s on the throne
The one who truly loves me
Accepts my past
Joy of the present
History shredded no agony of the trials of the past
Joy of the present with you
poem by Chanda Lena Mondoka
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The noble are not noble
Behave as a noble one
While you indulge in evil.
Appear as a noble one
While you practise evil.
You’re held as the great.
Being noble unseen,
One goes unsung in the world.
01.01.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Decoding History In Bed
Our histories, though cryptically encoded,
can be decoded once we go to bed,
when sperm and cunty juices are downloaded,
or when a dream removes our maidenhead.
Inspired by Adam Phillips’s review of Daniel Mendelsohn’s “The Lost: A Search for Six of Six Million, ” in the LRB, April 26,2007:
The important thing here—and in all forms of history writing which, like Daniel Mendelsohn’s, have been affected by Freud—is not that everything is ‘reduced’ to sexuality, but that everything is subsumed by memory: desire for the past has the urgency and ingenuity once accorded to sexuality. Sexuality matters because it is one’s history at its most cryptically encoded. Family history shows up at one’s most intimate exchanges with other people. The lost—the literal and more figurative losses from one’s past—are never, in this view, quite as lost as one feared, or indeed hoped.
5/20/07
poem by Gershon Hepner
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The New World
The gift and the curse
With this I'm spreading all my messages to the world.
One then the next
Another new pretext.
A systematic absorption through what I read.
Ideas all my own
A conversation with whole world at the same time.
Intriguing this must be to great minds
Imagine Edgar Allan Poe was living today
What would he write about?
Who would he talk too?
Would it be you?
Would it me?
Are you starting to see?
The great minds of the time stand before you.
People all over the world sharing in intellect.
Conversation with people twenty messages long.
This is the new world of the great poets, writers, and authors all rolled into one.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Kiss Your Past Good-Bye
Finders keepers losers weep
Down on 42nd street
Bare-foot-children cryin┬┤ my-oh-my
I watched you on the avenue
While other men were having you
I think that you should led your caged bird fly
And kiss your past good-bye
Kiss your past good-bye
Kiss your past good-bye
Kiss your past good-bye
I┬┤ve been so lost I must confess
I┬┤ve had my share of loneliness
But yeah it┬┤s hard to keep a good man down
The loves you lost were all in vain
The past lives on inside your brain
I don┬┤t think you need those memories
Hangin┬┤ ┬┤round
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Forgetting The Past
Many things once done cannot be undone!
Like good or bad; birth or death; love or war;
But thinking of yester-years- could be fun;
Whether you had cycled or gone by car.
Could we have done things better on that day?
Rewriting pages of golden history!
These kinds of thoughts bug me even today;
What man keeps doing is great mystery!
But often ’tis late to recast the past;
We move on to the future hopefully;
As time won’t wait and we ought to be fast,
Let humans take all things most gracefully!
Fretting, fuming o’er past is of no use;
’Tis Presently good ’cause I am a Muse!
poem by John Celes
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Black History Month
In January...
There they are making history.
In February...
There they are making history.
In March...
There they are making history.
In April...
There they are making history.
In May...
There they are making history.
In June...
There they are making history.
In July...
There they are making history.
In August...
There they are making history.
In September...
There they are making history.
In October...
There they are making history.
In November...
There they are making history.
In December...
There they are making history.
But...
It's nice to know
The shortest month of the year
Was chosen to celebrate
The great deeds of African-Americans!
However...
It is those LEAP YEARS,
That really have the blacks jumping for joy!
Note: 'Black History Month' along with other
works of interest can be found in...
*'MindPrints from Untouched Places-VOL I'*
~Now available online at a PC near you~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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For War The Cost Is Great
As well as for World harmony another huge setback
There is one big lesson to be learned from Iraq
Those who invade other Countries a huge price must pay
For war the cost is great tis always been this way.
Yet powerful leaders and their advisors never learn of war history
Beyond their big egos they cannot seem to see
They tell us of freedom yet they themselves are free
Of compassion for others and human empathy.
So many must suffer and die for a war to be won
And in war winners are losers when all is said and done
For how can one be a winner with so many human lives lost
A victory in war does come at a great cost.
And yet we hear more rumors of war every day
Most leaders with great power lack in wisdom twould be fair to say
And in the future will the lesson of Iraq be another lesson in vain
For the lessons of war in the past do remain.
poem by Francis Duggan
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History!
Spoken words are history
Records of some remain a mystery
And when today and tomorrow
Row bitterly over yesterday
Today will become history
With just an empty space
Enlightened by a darkened face
History reminds me of a repetition of events
Dancing to the rhythm of the same kind of achievements
A battle is won or lost
Every love or hatred will eventually be buried in dust
I love you
You love me
Soon our love goes down in history
Someone else will find love a new discovery
So the theory behind is history
Is to have a story that commands all glory
For the inevitable past that will last!
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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