We ARE history! Everything we've ever been on the way to becoming us, we still are. Would you like the rest of the story? I'm made up of the memories of my parents and my grandparents, all my ancestors. They're in the way I look, in the color of my hair. And I'm made up of everyone I've ever met who's changed the way I think.
quote by Terry Pratchett
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
In Celebration Of A Holiday
Yes I am a veteran,
Of a life given that is well experienced.
And on Memorial Day,
I think of my parents, grandparents...
And lives of my ancestors also veterans,
Of living lives in the doing for others.
My mind on this day,
Is not only on those who sacrificed their lives...
Wearing a uniform to serve time in the military.
I think of those who have sacrificed their lives,
For beliefs kept many today take for granted...
Just to eat and drink in celebration of a holiday.
Only to be glad to spend time away,
From a regular routine.
Yes I am a veteran,
Of a life given that is well experienced.
And on Memorial Day,
I think of my parents, grandparents...
And lives of my ancestors also veterans,
Of living lives in the doing for others.
And the doing for others many who have passed on,
And done...
Should on this day be always remembered.
And as far as wars, destruction and the loss of life goes?
There is nothing about the act of it that is worthy of celebration.
However...
The showing of an appreciation is a more honorable expression,
Than the rushing to feed one's greed as a priority...
To prove a loyalty in the doing of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The people who have recently come to this country to work and better their lives should be given the same opportunities that our parents, grandparents, and ancestors were given.
quote by Jose Serrano
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Ice Cream Hair
My mom's hair is made of Chocolate Ice Cream.
My dad's hair is made of Mint Ice Cream.
My sister's hair is made of Vanilla Ice Cream.
My halve sister's hair is made of Strawberry Ice Cream.
My brother's hair is made of Coconut Ice Cream.
My halve brother's hair is made of Blue Berry Ice Cream.
My baby sister's hair is made of Banana Split Ice Cream.
What is my hair made out of?
All of the above,
and a hint of sprinkles; -) .
poem by Jasmine Aira
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Oh Who Is That Young Sinner
Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrists?
And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists?
And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air?
Oh they're taking him to prison for the color of his hair.
'Tis a shame to human nature, such a head of hair as his;
In the good old time 'twas hanging for the color that it is;
Though hanging isn't bad enough and flaying would be fair
For the nameless and abominable color of his hair.
Oh a deal of pains he's taken and a pretty price he's paid
To hide his poll or dye it of a mentionable shade;
But they've pulled the beggar's hat off for the world to see and stare,
And they're taking him to justice for the color of his hair.
Now 'tis oakum for his fingers and the treadmill for his feet,
And the quarry-gang on Portland in the cold and in the heat,
And between his spells of labor in the time he has to spare
He can curse the God that made him for the color of his hair.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Brother Bill
This is the sad true story about my brother Bill
who was four years older than me.
He was born and then tossed aside by his mother
who left him to his father’s parents to raise,
then promptly disappeared out of his life forever.
My grandparents brought him up
hoping his father would take care of him
when he returned from the war.
His father also my dad returned from the war
married with another son and didn’t want to know.
They gave him a nickname in private
so no one else would know.
In private, they always called him Dopey.
My sister and I were told
our grandparents had adopted him
and he was nothing to do with us.
When my dad’s parents died in 1958 and 59
plans were made to come back to England
where my mother’s parents were still alive
and leave Bill far behind.
Then as his mother had done eighteen years before
his father abandoned him as well.
For a while, he had to live on the streets
taking handout from where ever he could.
He was arrested for vagrancy and sent to jail.
Getting out he got himself a job and began to build a life.
He got married and started a family,
until one night he came home
and found his wife in bed with another man,
and a divorce followed and he was alone again.
Then after 25 years, his job vanished
and he had to find another.
One day in 2000, he got a telephone call
and did not know whether to believe it or not.
It was a call he never thought he would ever get,
a call from his younger brother - me.
As we talked on the phone, some truths came to pass
his brother and his sister did not know about him.
They were told he had been adopted
and were nothing to do with them.
However, I had found the truth,
which incensed my mother enough to disown me.
We met one another for the first time
after forty-two years in 2001 and again in 2002.
In 2003, this sad story ends,
in the March of that year
Bill succumbed to a heart attack.
His final words were a testament to his life.
No one loved me enough to care.
The sad truth is someone did
and that someone was me.
We never had enough time together,
circumstances kept us apart,
but he was my brother
and will remain in my heart.
2 November 2009
Authors Note:
The facts are as Bill told them to me. A sad refrain to a wonderful guy who was tainted by my parents as being bad and no good. If the truth were known he was probably better than the both of them. He was a guy who would give you the shirt of his back if you needed it. My brother Bill, may he now rest in peace.
DVH - 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Color? (Hope)
what color
was the dust
from which the stars
were made?
what color is the hunger
written on the child's face?
what color is justice,
forgiveness, desire, truth?
what color is the wind....
the rain, gravity,
and knowledge?
what color is equality?
what color is freedom?
what color is eternity?
what color is redemption?
what color is God?
what color were the nails
that hung Jesus on the cross?
what color was enlightenment
falling on the Buddha as he sat
'neath that tree?
what color is prejudice, hatred,
fear, greed, apathy.....
what color your skin?
nay, what color is your blood?
and what color are the eyes
of humanity staring through the darkness?
and what color is hope?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Same Story, The same History
...and so the same story is told
the same history is made....
why always speak of descrimination
why always speak of war
why always speak of class
why always speak of injustice
why always speak of poverty
why always speak of rebellion....
why not speak of equality
why not speak of peace
why not speak of respect
why not speak of wisdom
why not speak of production
why not speak of working together...
...and so the same story is told
the same history is made.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Women and Food
Women the color of cinnamon
Is the salts and stripes
They are made to preserve life.
Women the color of milk
Is the sweetest type
They are of the utmost strife.
Women the color of chocolate
Is made to devour
It is the tastiest wine
Women of any nature
Posses these qualities
Made from harmony
Made to harmonize
As one alone
Are more beautiful
Then the flour
Used in a bakery
Used to make
The finest pastry
The delicate art
In of it self
That is
Women and foods
poem by David Bailey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXXX: Story
Story about future is called imagination
Story about past is called memories
Story about present is called reality
Story that becomes true is called prophecy
Story that becomes unfulfilled is called regret
Story that becomes no end is called boasting
Small story is called experience
Epic story is called history
Forgotten story is called lesson
Story that becomes obsession is called ambition
Story that becomes untold is called secret
Story that becomes go its own way is called life
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I changed his face:
I did it like M.L.K,
I changed the nation's face!
Riding in a public place
Saw me, he had a harsh tense
I took out a $ 50 bills
And the white man smiled
He was enchanted
He was delighted
Gave me a little "yes, Sir! "
Here is your receipt"please"
And have a nice night "Mr."
He did not stress up
To make the cops came up
Keeping people lined up
Instead, his eyes popped up
His lips straightened up
His face changed
His voice nicer
His attitude friendlier
Even his manner, better
His color became brighter.
I did it like Oprah Winfried
I did it like Michael Jackson
I did it like Michael Jordan
I have been accepted as equal
I have been seen as normal.
Money made me white
Money gave me right
Money put in me power
Money lifted me higher
Money bought me respect
Money called me: " Money"
Money said to me: hi! Money
I said back: "hello! Money"
Money is Power and Respect.
No matter how I did it
For sure I made it
In his face I saw it
I felt like a heavy weight
I felt like an airfreight
I felt like all my bodyweight
Have been lift up from me
Now I am free with no fee
Now I can live with no fear.
This is my story
I wrote a paragraph in history
I had my taste of victory
I did one thing for humanity
I changed his face, I have my relief
I showed my money, I sent him free.
poem by Dieury Dumas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Different From Others
Quickly! !
Emotions,
Missing,
Mixing,
Musing,
To pursuade them,
To pursuade you,
To pursuade me,
For the mind and body;
But, i am very different from others!
And like the eagle's wings to help me fly up high.
Living longer,
Changed,
Challenged,
Parents,
Grandparents,
Great grand parents!
With living habits to meet up to the right rules;
But, i am very different from others.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Changed My Life
You changed my life
Came along in a time of strife
In hunger and need
You made my heart bleed
You changed my life
You changed my life
Now the nature of man
Is to beg and to steal
Id do it myself
Its not so unreal
The call of the wilds
Forever at my door
Want me to fly like an eagle
Being chained to the floor, but
You changed my life
Came along in a time of strife
In hunger and need
You made my heart bleed
You changed my life
You changed my life
Eating with the pigs
Off a fancy tray
I was bold, I was looking good
And to have a nice day
It all seemed so proper
And so elite
Eating absolute garbage
While being so discreet.
You changed my life
Came along in a time of strife
In hunger and need
You made my heart bleed
You changed my life
You changed my life
You were glowing in the light
Being peaceably calm
Well, how often does a man dance
To the beat of the balm?
Your eyes were on fire
Your feet were of brass
In a world that you made
You were an outcast
You changed my life
Came along in a time of strife
In hunger and need
You made my heart bleed
You changed my life
You changed my life
Truce makers and partakers
Of every selfish whim
Her running to meet me running to her
And you running back to him
Their destruction of my confidence
Was like a sharpness of the tongue
I said: make my faith greater
But I was a little high strung
You changed my life
Came along in a time of strife
In hunger and need
You made my heart bleed
You changed my life
You changed my life
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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History
That girl stole my heart
When she gave a kiss to me
She opened her arms
And she gave herself to me
That girl stole my heart
When she gave a kiss to me
She opened her arms
And she gave herself to me
I started to explore every possibility
Since she gave a kiss to me
The strength of her appeal
Lies in her ability
To keep a sense of mystery
She made my senses real
When she gave a kiss to me
She made the others history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
That girl stole my heart
When she gave a kiss to me
She opened her arms
And she gave herself to me
That girl stole my heart
When she gave a kiss to me
She opened her arms
And she gave herself to me
I feel like I'm the deal
Since she gave a kiss to me
It felt like electricity
Her lips gave me sensations
Full of authenticity
When she gave a kiss to me
Her kiss had such effect
'cos of it's simplicity
She made the others history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
That girl stole my heart
When she gave a kiss to me
She opened her arms
And she gave herself to me
I started to explore every possibility
Since she gave a kiss to me
The strength of her appeal
Lies in her ability
To keep a sense of mystery
She made my senses real
When she gave a kiss to me
She made the others history-ac
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memories in the mind
Memories are made in the mind,
and there if you search, you will find.
There in the mind, so many things,
so many memories it brings.
So many years have passed,
of our youth, away we have cast
some memories happy, some memories sad,
memories have I, when I was a lad.
Memories have I, of a dog named shep,
memories of him, when he kept in step.
Memories of my friends, when we played,
of those days, for ever memories relayed.
Memories of family and fun,
when we talked until the setting of sun.
Memories of washing our fifty-seven Ford,
and wanting things we couldn't afford.
Memories are made in the mind,
long lost, search and you will find,
memories of days gone by,
searching memories, oh how you try.
Memories will fade out,
you have forgotton, what it's about,
memories lost in the mind,
dig them out and you will find.
You Tell Me Of Your Australian History
You tell me of your Australian history your ancestors were British and Irish pioneers
But your history in this Land is not an old history just two centuries and twenty years
And in time that may seem quite a long span though the combined life spans of three people nothing more
Your ancestors hardly were Aussies they came here from a distant shore.
The first Australians have lived in this Country for longer than most care to know
Their ancestors came here from Asia more than sixty thousand years ago
They are indigenous to this Country all others have links to elsewhere
Yet they still struggle for recognition and that to me seems quite unfair.
Dispossessed by the Northern invaders they never did get back their Land
And that they are now ruled by white people I find that hard to understand
You talk of the history of this Land as if it were only two hundred years old
But then suppose the history of the ancient Dreamtime by white people will never be told.
I was not even born in this Country which makes you more Aussie than I
And though I'm not Nationalistic or Patriotic my heritage I won''t deny
You talk of your pioneering ancestors but why talk of Human history at all
If the history of the first Australians you do not see fit to recall.
You tell me of your pioneering ancestors but one fact you tend to ignore
That they were not born in this Country they came here from a foreign shore
You''d swear by you the Human history of this Land was only two centuries old
But the true history of this great Country by your type will never be told
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Made In Heaven
Im taking my right with destiny
Willing to play my part
Living with painful memories
Loving with all my heart
Made in heaven, made in heaven
It was all meant to be, yeah
Made in heaven, made in heaven
Thats what they say
Cant you see
Thats what everybody says to me
Cant you see
Oh I know, I know, I know, that its true
Yes its really meant to be
Deep in my heart
Im having to learn to pay the price
Theyre turning me upside down
Waiting for possibilities
Dont see too many around
Made in heaven, yes made in heaven
Its for all to see
Made in heaven, made in heaven
Thats what everybody says
Everybody says to me
It was really meant to be
Oh cant you see
Yeah, everybody, everybody says
Yes it was meant to be
Yeah, yeah
When stormy weather comes around
It was made in heaven
When sunny skies break through behind the clouds
I wish it could last forever, yeah
Wish it could last forever, forever
Im playing my role in history
Looking to find my goal
Taking in all this misery
But giving it all my soul
Made in heaven, made in heaven
It was all meant to be
Made in heaven, made in heaven
Thats what everybody says
Wait and see, it was really meant to be
So plain to see
Yeah, everybody, everybody, everybody tells me so
Yes it was plain to see, yes it was meant to be
Written in the stars...
Written in the stars...
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Boy You Have Known
(d. pickerill/p. odonoughue)
This song is for listening to
On nights youre all alone
Blank face at the window pane
Or a silent telephone
Chorus:
And its all about a boy you have known
With black hair or brown hair
And hands made of stone
He had eyes like the (deeps? ) in the sky
Hair like the clouds youve seen floating by
And my sky was your cloud
You made the first smile I had ever worn
Chorus
Do you wonder if he knows now
Of the pain behind your eyes
The scorching in your throat
Or the half forgotten sighs
Do you try hard to sleep
And feel old memories
Creeping to the dark folds of night
? ? ? your glance and made me dance
The first dance I had ever seen
Chorus
song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black History
Boom, boom, boom!
That was in 1530 to the Slave Trade;
My Mama told me so,
My Papa told me so,
In the name of our ancestors gone by;
Slaves for arms,
Slaves for powder,
Slaves for hardware,
Slaves for spirits;
Boom, boom, boom! !
All over the West Coast of Africa!
Today, i am a Blackman to tell you a story.
Black History, the Black African, the Black Race;
Of my ancestors gone by,
Boom, boom, boom!
Black head, black sugar, black coffee;
Where are the true identities of the Blacks?
That was in 1530 to the Slave trade.
Black History, black love;
A Black Race to a call.
Tap your fingers and do think about it,
My Mama told me so;
Bllack shoes, black phones;
With the Black History gone too soon,
My Papa told me so.
Black hair, black eyes;
The black coal to steam up the engines!
In the name of my ancestors gone by;
But, where are the black pens of love to share?
Do think about this and learn from it,
Boom, boom, boom!
A Blackman in the house to tell us a story;
Where is William Wilberforce?
Where is Thomas Buxton?
Where is Granville Sharp?
What about the Slaves? !
These men need to tell us more;
They killed my ancestors softly without compensations!
Black love, black stream, a black home to live in;
Like 'Naughty By Nature',
I've got 'Queen Latifah' to tell us more.
Of the Black Songs,
Of the Black race,
With a Black-Limo to keep us going;
This Slave Trade was a Black History to us all.
Boom, boom, boom!
Do contact Africa to learn more from this;
Like a black bird, a black cat and the black fingers! !
Do contact Africa to see things for yourselves.
Oh Blackman,
When are they going to admit to what they did?
Like a Black Ninja in the house,
Do know your history before you destroy yourselves.
Boom, boom, boom!
The very sound of the Slaves marching on;
This is our colour and, we have to respect it.
Black Cop, Black Soldier;
A Black Marine to a call,
We still have more to learn from each other.
Black wine, Black Doctor, Black People;
Know all about your history.
About where you came from and,
Where you are today;
Black seed, black marble, Black Prophets!
We still have more to learn.
Slaves for arms,
Slaves for hardware,
Slavces for powder,
Slaves for spirits;
Boom, boom, boom! ! !
Black beauty, black sea, black pot;
Black Nurse, black melody, black stamp;
Know your history always.
Of the freed Slaves from England to Sierra Leone,
With those from America to Liberia! ! ! !
Today the Black Panther is here to stay like,
The Black Writer.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Today You Guys Are Just Going To Have To Wait
At times I feel,
I provoke the ghosts...
Of my ancestors.
Especially when I know,
I am not at my best!
And rest I'd rather get.
Than to impress with those gifts,
From which I did get,
As a result of my ancestors blood and sweat.
Never did I wish,
To sit...
In the taking for granted,
Of those I represent and miss.
But I do admit,
A feeling I provoke...
The wishes of my ancestors.
Those ghosts within me that make visits.
Awaiting impatiently to do...
Not what I want.
But what they insist!
'Today you guys are just going to have to wait,
And sit.
I am tired.
I need rest.
And rest I am going to get! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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