With each new book, the march of our national history takes a step forward. When one is present at a book launch, one is bearing witness to the birth of a new body of ideas, to the coming into being of another testimony of history.
quote by Ibrahim Babangida
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The History Of You And Me
Everytime you think of me.
Write it all down in your diary.
And never forget you were mine.
'Cause you can write a book about love.
And you can write a book about history.
The history of you and me..
On every page that you write.
Move your pen, with those old memories of me.
Holding me in your arms.
'Cause you can write a book about love.
And you can write a book about history.
The history of you and me..
Try not to miss a word.
Don't miss a single word, about those old romantic nights.
The nights you spent with me.
'Cause you can write a book about love.
And you can write a book about history.
The history of you and me..
Yaahh! The history of you and me....
Love Song Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1990,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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War Is Our Worlds History
I Look into a history book.
And what do I see?
Pain and agony, death and suffering,
I see history that tells a lot about our world.
War!
Our world's history is war.
It is the pain and agony, the death and the suffering,
I see large fields of dead bodies,
I see our heritage being destroyed by other people
because it is not what they believe in,
I see people begging for mercy, but they do not get it
instead they get a bullet in the head.
In our history I see many mistakes in which we can learn from,
but we obviously we do not.
They say not to judge a book by its cover,
to me this quote means nothing to our history.
Our history is our cover,
and the book is filled with pain and agony, death and suffering.
Plain and Simple
War!
poem by Christian Cervantes
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History is a living horse laughing at a wooden horse. History is a wind blowing where it listeth. History is no sure thing to bet on. History is a box of tricks with a lost key. History is a labyrinth of doors with sliding panels, a book of ciphers with the code in a cave of the Saragossa sea. History says, if it pleases, Excuse me, I beg your pardon, it will never happen again if I can help it.
quote by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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History Lessons
Notoriously, history books are warm
and bland.
This one is smaller, neatly compacting
years into large print pages.
Somehow, the near coverless book
reappeared from the long, dim
Nun's library, dug up, specifically for
a reprisal of the 1918 Influenza Revisited.
It was a custom to pass out last editions.
A clear out of the aging history Teacher's
Library section.
An acknowledgement of the past
pressed onto a pupil for a masked honor.
Smells of old lockers, chesty
coughs, and fatigue. So many class
smiles and collective ease.
The book holds the marks of many
boys' notes, hen-pecked bits of scratch paper.
History written within history.
poem by Mary Anderson
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History
Yesterday is History.
History brings us to this present moment
but it doesn't shape who we are at this present moment.
We can't let our History control us
and who we wish to be.
Our future is our choice,
Not History's.
poem by Tiana Webb
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History?
Has history taught us nothing
but tales and ancient lies?
All wrapped up in stories
not told us by the wise?
Told by the vicars who consecrated death
Told by the rulers
with power in their breath.
Passed on in written words
in books the masses read,
never questioned, never disputed
in the minds they lead.
Slanted stories still present
right to our present day.
Foes of peace seen as heroes
in ungodly ways
and as we live the history writers
will pen each blazing act
as benificent for these difficult times,
more fiction than true fact.
So those who follow in our steps
will read our history book
and what they read will be fantasy
with a different look.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Book Of Days
Genealogical history,
The Book of Days and the keys of love;
The abundance of living creatures,
The Book of Peace and the Book of Care;
But anywhere and anyplace is my love to you,
And like the Caribbean Blues.
To the great lights,
Someone deceived you but i took you in;
And you now have a light source to see your way through,
Because the Book of Days is all about our lives on this earth!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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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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The History Teacher
Woman!
Where exactly
Did you put me
In the women's history?
Am I History?
Or a part of it?
And for how long you are lacking me in;
Between
Your History,
Women's History, and
Your archives?
Does time make sense to you
As a History teacher or
As a History professor?
Cause', History, buying time, and rejuvenation
Are for emperors.
Are you making me
An emperor?
Or a Faeroe?
If so,
How precise your are?
And if you can't feel my present presence
how possibility could you feel me through your archives?
poem by Atef Ayadi
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Forward is the March
I can love the book of stages,
This book is clean and pure,
Then forward is the march that annexes,
It annexes due to speed and it can assure.
Beyond belief I surprise one on this,
Love of a book weighs heavily,
It injures the heart like a hiss
That came not from snakes but from generosity.
poem by Naveed Akram
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History why do we care
History
a famous person dies
History
a war rages
History
a new invention
History
a building opens
History
what happens if something happens to me
is that history?
no....
So why do we care.....
poem by Andrea Thepoet
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Silence Of Doors
How can you salvage the theme of god
from the forbidden knowledge?
Must affinities have a reason?
The precarious life hangs
between birth & death.
Crying all the way for immortality,
I ask myself for the end. Was it beautiful?
The ending becomes a climate of personalities
from return to return.
The anonymous call of history
overthrows the silence of doors.
A hard rock strikes the clumsy head.
You cannot take a turn,
another step takes a plunge.
You don’t dare to face yourself,
It was frightening.
A text was bruised and the book was bleeding.
Mapless you tread on broken paths.
Nothing was on record.
Was your god climbing up the stairs?
poem by Satish Verma
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Coming to the point
Coming to the point
I turned the pages
Coming to the point
I found nothing
In negation that
You told in history.
Since long I am dead
And for the first time
In history you raised doubt
And I clarified before all
pessimist and not present.
What is there and
What is not there
Still a mystery
And I beg apology
For my slip of tongue.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Thought from History
Thought from History,
Thought from History came from I,
Thinking of a New Seal,
I found a New Existenialism from a Face Book.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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I Wrote Your Name
I wrote your name in the book of my own life- history.
I sorted your face to cling it on the cover of my first page.
You were one of tremendous part of my life-story.
Once the morning started viewing your tactful face.
Yes, your beautiful face.
But now, these all want to be free and crack gradually.
It could be priceless even without caring me.
It would be a part of your gladness.
It may cheer you up as you want to be a thoughtless.
Now, I am thinking a little bit,
To have a sort trip for my country-side
Where I could find some liveliness and gaiety.
I know only the nature stays my friend and can counterpoise my last felicity.
But, I did write your name in the book of my own life- history.
poem by Bibhakar Dutta
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Talking Book
I wish I had a talking book
That told me how to act and look
A talking book that contained keys
To past and present memories
A talking book that said your name
So if you were gone, youd still remain
More than a picture on a shelf
In imagination I could touch
A talking, talking book
I wish I had a talking book
Filled with buttons you could push
Containing looks and sights, your touch
Your feel, your breath, your sounds, your sighs
How much Id bluster to ask it why
One must live and one must die
I wish I had a talking book
By my side so I could look
And touch and feel and dream, a look
Much bigger than a talking book
A taste of loving future and past
Is that so much to really ask
In this one moments time and space
Can our love really be replaced
By a talking book
Can our love really be replaced
By a talking book
Can our love really be replaced
By a talking book
Can our love ever, forever be replaced
Can our love ever be replaced
Can our love ever be replaced
(can our love really be replaced)
By a talking book
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A book called life
You find a book. a book unopened for some time. binding worn, title aged and not legible. you open it to find it dusty and blank. it has sat untouched for a quite a while. this book is the story of you. a story not yet written, but exciting non the less. a story to be one of epic, and legend. a story to be passed down for generations. that will be stamped into the pages of history and inspire forever. we all have a story, we simply need to write it.
poem by Nick Feiner
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The positive testimony of history is that the State invariably had its origin in conquest and confiscation. No primitive State known to history originated in any other manner.
quote by Albert J. Nock
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You can learn as much about the history from reading about the present as you can vice versa, that is learning about the present through history, which is what I do for a living.