When you write a two thousand page history of the Second World War, the deportations and the concentration camps will take up five pages, and the gas chambers perhaps 20 lines.
quote by Jean-Marie Le Pen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
If you take a book of a thousand pages on the Second World War, in which 50 million people died, the concentration camps occupy two pages and the gas chambers ten or 15 lines, and that's what one calls a detail.
quote by Jean-Marie Le Pen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Is Written In Red
I am written in red,
I am sliding across the page of life.
I am racing across the lines of language.
I am red.
I write words,
I create lines and sentences,
I am kept in solitude
I am red.
I create paragraphs.
I create signatures.
I know what you're thinking before you speak,
I am red.
I cannot breath because I am enclosed in a capsule.
A capsule that covers the knowledge inside.
All I do is stare at pages,
All I know is pages,
I become apart of the pages,
And the pages become apart of me.
I become apart of english,
I become apart of words,
I am RED.
BY: Takisha Fields
poem by Kiesha fields
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Everyday is a new page in our history books that we write for ourselves as a family. It is up to us to fill the pages with how we want the story to go.
quote by Seal
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Book Of Days
Your life is as a book
Written on the pages are the weeks
For you would give anything to take just one look
Into the next chapter, the next page
Each page is a new thought, a new dream
Sometimes it takes so long to pass that page
And sometimes nothing is as it seams
For you know you can not go ahead or back
You know you are where you are
You know you can't change that
As you read page to page, so near to fear
You write the chapters as you go, with each turn
Each turn, each move changes what's to come
And you know each moment could be the last
With this in mind you go so mumb
So numb to the touch, to the thought
You turn page after page
until you reach the 'end'
And only then, you are freed from the title
The title that has kept your thoughts bound, and tight
You turn the pages one by one
You take the pain, take the joy
Until you are done
And your story becomes another on the shelf of eternity
(1/24/2008)
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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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
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Stars Dont Know My Fate
Tonight I make history
and one day history will find me
and haunt me...even write me
in the pages of immortality
and will never be forgotten
as the wind.
Tonight I face history
and one day history will face me
and mock me...even write me
in the pages of uncertainties
but will never be forgotten
as the wind.
Tonight- I end my life...
I change my history, I make my destiny
for stars don't know my fate.
And one day, maybe one day
this night would be forgotten,
carried by the wind.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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Poetry
Don’t write me
Pages and pages
Of poetry…
Write a few lines
Of love to me…
And I’ll decipher
The poet in thee.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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World Peace
This page is tranquil like its white..
On this
When I write to my Mother
About her lotus, her peacock
Her victorious liberty, her astute, salubrious issues
Halcyon breeze trills unfurling a peacock-dance
To the felicitious lotuses in abundance
But in a sudden hush of a spooky heart
My trembling hands admonish Mother
Voicing an alert to terrorism and violence..
Shocked..This page..outraged to bleed tear-flood
Bleeds and bleeds in a nexus to wet red
Other pages and other pages reticular far and wide
Friends, You feel the pain of my heart
In your eyes, in your hands as I do yours
Tell me, what shall we do to write
'WORLD PEACE' to restore this tranquil page
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Golden Days
Another day of toil and strife,
Another page so white,
Within that fateful Log of Life
That I and all must write;
Another page without a stain
To make of as I may,
That done, I shall not see again
Until the Judgment Day.
Ah, could I, could I backward turn
The pages of that Book,
How often would I blench and burn!
How often loathe to look!
What pages would be meanly scrolled;
What smeared as if with mud;
A few, maybe, might gleam like gold,
Some scarlet seem as blood.
O Record grave, God guide my hand
And make me worthy be,
Since what I write to-day shall stand
To all eternity;
Aye, teach me, Lord of Life, I pray,
As I salute the sun,
To bear myself that every day
May be a Golden One.
poem by Robert William Service
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Tracks, Trails, Lines and pages
Tracks in forests… of woodland creatures
Trails of shooting stars in summer skies
Tracks of rockets o’er bloody battlefields
Traces of wrinkles round wizened eyes
Lines of wisdom on wrinkled faces
Lines of ants upon the floor
Lines of prose on parchment pages
Lines of carts inside the stores
Pages of life, inside old diarys
Pages dog-eared to mark the places
Pages filled with tales sad and fiery
Pages filled with empty spaces
poem by David Whalen
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Dead Library
There they go, bearing him in tears;
another gift for termites and earthworms,
another place in history foregone.
Just humus to the soil for all his toil.
Had I known, the poor fellow cried,
a break from pursuit of wealth and health
I would have taken to make felt
my Name in the pages of history.
Jets, cars and chariots all shall fade.
Castles, plantations all shall be obscured
with time's demise but history salutes
those who march on it in inky lines.
They that add no lines to the living
library get dead alongside their texts.
Selfishly, they read and saw nothing to write.
Read by none, their texts are in the Dead Library.
Mazi Ikechukwu Bismarck Oji
18th June,2010
poem by Ike Bismarck Oji
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Page of my History
Some laughs some tears
This is it, its what we feared
We are going our separate ways
Things getting easier by the days
You’re now a page of my history
Many days of adventure and fun
But we both know we aren’t the one
The pain eases so very slow
But it’s for the best and we know it
You’re now a page of my history
The not knowing is the mystery
But us being together is history
We will get over the misery
Even though I miss yee
You’re now a page of my history
We gave it our best shot
But it was a game we lost
Our love is lost but never gone
We will find a place to keep it safe
You’re now a page of my history
poem by Stephanie Mcgrath
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The Rest Is History
Saw you across the room
Felt somethin stir inside my soul
Knew Id never be the same
Now that love had taken hold
Then when you touched me
There was no doubt
You unterstood what my heart was all about
And the rest is history
The story of you and me
For all eternity
The record will show
Well fill up the pages
Romance for the ages
There for the world to see
The rest ist history
Before we spoke a word
My heart told me you were the one
When you pressed your hand to mine
I knew my life had just begun
Like some old movie
Music filled the night
Lost held each other tight.
And the rest is history
The story of you and me
For all eternity
The record will show
Well fill up the pages
Romance for the ages
There for the world to see
The rest ist history
And the rest is history
The story of you and me
For all eternity
The record will show
Well fill up the pages
Romance for the ages
There for the world to see
The rest ist history
History ...
The rest is history.
The rest is history.
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home Alone Happy Without Working Computer
Home alone happy without working computer
I take my pen in hand
And slowly write these words –
Let the world click and paste and post
I am out of it for now-
I have before me an evening of any book I like
Of any page I want to write
-
Peace of Mind is one place of attention at a time-
Here weighing each word as I write
I am at home with my inner self-
I hear my own thoughts
I correct them at my own pace.
So many words and so many pages
Have been written in my life-
Now in this one
I am wholly at home
Peaceful, quiet happy
Each word a small blessing
As I write it-
This is the only poem I know
The only page I see
The only place of attention
I give myself and my soul to
At this moment.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Thousand got away to other countries; thousands returned to Spain tempted by false promises of kindness. By the tens of thousands, these Spaniards died of neglect in the concentration camps.
quote by Martha Gellhorn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fresh Notebook
She bought me a fresh notebook
To write my deepest thoughts
Deliver up my soul
Daily to her
A hard serrated border
Thick along the spine
Designed to pay tribute in words
An opening address
A nod a wink
Initialled in my best
Invisible ink
I turn a new leaf over
Another page, far from
A new beginning
Or a new address
A naked page where I confess
My deepest wish
To sleep with you
On sheets of winter snow
One day I'll write
A sonnet for your eyes
Smiling like the cold sunlight
And close the notebook shut
Liberating me
From sharp parallel lines
And you will feed
Your hungered soul
On pages of my life
poem by Frank Bana
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Serious Music
(words by john oates
Music by john oates, george bizet)
To play to get rich
And die baroque is wrong
If you write a song for god
Will he sing along
While rows of robot symphonies read on
Is that the way you wanted it played
Manuscripted memories
Sound with no electricity
Concentration line on the face of serious music
Manuscripted memories
Sound but no electricity
Concentration lines on the face of serious music
You brought a bit of jazz to the concert hall
But you wont hear violins at the darkies ball
Your rhapsody in blue will outlive us all
I wish I was there the night you played it
Manuscripted memories
Sound with no electricity
Concentration line on the face of serious music
Manuscripted memories
Sound but no electricity
Concentration lines on the face of serious music
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Anglo Boer war
When that wimp of a Englishman
called Cecil John Rhodes
decided that he wanted gold,
that the diamonds in his pockets
was not enough
he wanted to see that British Union Jack flutter,
over the whole of Southern Africa
to his queen he went
to enchant her patriotic soul
to claim the Orange Free State
and Transvaal Republics as British territories
to sent three thousand
Christian farmers to their deaths,
to burn farmsteads down to the ground,
to throw salt in the lands,
to slaughter every animal there,
to murder twenty thousand women
and children
in concentration camps
and to loose twenty eight thousand
of the queen’s own as killed, as dead
shot through the heart, shot through the head.
[Note: My own great grandmother died in a British concentration camp and my great grandfather was sent by the British to St. Helena as a prisoner of war and as a result of this, my grandfather grew up in a orphanage.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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What Is These All About?
at 9: 18 p.m.
the head gets the pain
another relief
swallowed
finally you go back
to where you
started
page one
when you said
you do not miss her
page two and three
empty
pages more pages
until you reach
that page where you cried
dried tears at the middle
of the blotted letters
you quickly run your fingers
close the notebook
you stand by the window
at par with the moon.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Signature
Recognised signature
In the title page of history.
Do not named forger.
Plotting not done yet.
No sun no air
No water can erase
Damage scratchout
Signature that was
Put on the pages of history.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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