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History

History is sad.
It makes me mad
that we have learned nothing.

History is the past.
It goes so fast
and still we have learned nothing.

Today's not history
and so it's a mystery
why we repeat the same old nothing?

poem by Edwina Reizer
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What Have We Learned From History

What have we learned from history little if anything
Of war men and war heroes their praises we still sing
Humankind have come far in technology and on the moon surface have trod
And still we fight for our Nation's flag and go to war for our God.

What have we learned from history not much if you ask me
We still have wars and famines and we still have poverty
And we still have this awful thing called ethnic cleansing and we still have refugees
And we still wage war on Mother Earth and we still pollute her seas.

What have we learned from history if anything at all
Before the baby has to walk the baby has to learn to crawl
And life is just a learning curve or so we have been told
But few of those who lack wisdom in their twenties grow wiser as they grow old.

What have we learned from history we have learned to populate
And by bulldozing more virgin woodlands more diseases we create
We pollute Mother Earth who feeds us and our successes seem so few
And that the World would do nicely without us only happens to be true.

What have we learned from history go ask one wiser than I
The World is far more polluted now than when I was a boy
And history has a habit of repeating itself a wise one once did say
And I've not learned from history though I grow old and gray.

poem by Francis Duggan
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I Know My History

Mmmmm, Yeah.
I was a freckle-faced kid with a buck tooth grin.
I was cuttin' her grass when she asked me in.
Learned everything that I needed to learn,
When I was sixteen, know what I mean.
Whoo, ooh, ooh, grew up fast.
Fin'lly found somethin' I was really good at.
When it comes to love,
I know what I'm talkin' about.
I know my history, but good lovin' gets me.
It ain't no mystery, just kiss me: kiss me, baby.
I never learned my lesson: I'm pretty good at guessin'.
I been down that road a time or two or three:
I know my history.
Come a little closer, let me show you what it's all about.
Oh, I know my history, baby.
You can second guess me all night long,
Make yourself believe that it's all wrong.
Sooner or later, girl,
You're gonna see you can trust me.
Once again there, whoo, ooh, ooh, step into school:
Let me show you a thing or two:
When it comes to love,
I know what I'm talkin' about.
I know my history, but good lovin' gets me.
It ain't no mystery, just kiss me: kiss me, baby.
I never learned my lesson: I'm pretty good at guessin'.
I been down that road a time or two or three:
I know my history.
Don't worry 'bout tomorrow, come along girl.
Got his own road on a right cool world.
Take my hand, it's just you an' me.
Tonight's the night we're makin' history.
Instrumental Break.
(A little, little history.)
(Whoo, ooh, ooh.)
I know my history, yeah, good lovin' gets me.
It ain't no mystery, just kiss me: (Kiss me.)
Come a little closer, let me show you what it's all about.
Let me show you, baby, what my love is really all about.

song performed by by Van Zant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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He was what I often think is a dangerous thing for a statesman to be - a student of history; and like most of those who study history, he learned from the mistakes of the past how to make new ones.

quote by A.J.P. Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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 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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Dont Stop For No-one

Dont stop for no-one
And then it goes on
(repeat 3 times)
One day my father said to me
its time for you to leave,
But dont wait for me, its pre-destiny
Dont wait around for someone to believe in
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Just like moses waiting on the mountain
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Dont hang around in the babylonian gardens
You know, history dont stop for no-one
(? ) tourist attraction
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Dont stop for no-one
And then it goes on
(repeat)
Sometimes I told I must confess
To a life of tenderness
But I just repeat what he said to me:
dont close your eyes because seeing is believing
You know, history dont stop for no-one
(? ) child, fighting for a meaning
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Dont dream too long, its time to awake now
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Like sleeping lucy waiting for a kiss now
You know, history dont stop for no-one
I think you know the way its gonna go now
You know, history dont stop for no-one
From aztech kings to new york queens
And then it goes on

song performed by by Heaven 17
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Became My History

You were once a mystery,
The one I loved to solve.
Deciphering your code,
Always got me lost.
I thought of understanding you more,
But before I realised it,
You became my history.

You were once a mystery,
Discovering you was a thrill,
Every puzzle I put together,
Granted me fulfilment,
But as time flew by,
you became my history.

You were once a mystery,
Every clue brought me closer,
Every step brought me nearer,
Only to make me smile,
I thrived on your addiction
But after a while,
You became my history.

You were once a mystery,
the very foundation that kept me stable,
Once I comprehended you, I began to feel able,
You were the ocean to my boat,
The cell to my system,
However, even without the distance,
You became my history.

You were once a mystery,
Clouded in question marks,
Trying to understand,
Trying to comprehend,
I was left with numerous thoughts,
The more I tried, the more I learnt,
The less I craved, and before I knew it,
You became my history.

poem by Zushan Hashmi
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Man In The Mirror...

mystery man, history man, dangerous man,
all that are man.
but one man sang,
mystery man,
this man sang,
thrilled the stage with his ways,
danced and raced with out any shame,
mystery man, history man, dangerous man.
He danced thrilling the world,
twirling across the world with his spin,
he with no twin
the world sang with this man,
he made history with history man,
god by his side, he who was never out of sight,
humble was this man, awards he had won,
healing is what he done.
mystery man, history man, dangerous man
his music were thrilling,
his lyrics were smoothing,
his dancing were surprisily healing.
this man who sang was the man in the mirror......

poem by Angel Diaz
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What experience and history teach is this - that nations and governments have never learned anything from history, or acted upon any lessons they might have drawn from it.

quote by Hegel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Have Not Learned That Much From The Past

We have not learned that much from past history the men of power repeat the same mistake
By threatening war on the Iraqi people for in war there's death and suffering and heartbreak
And in war there's never happiness and laughter the bomber jets they dropp death from the sky
Why to kill or capture the Iraqi leader will so many innocents have to suffer and die? .

I wonder when I hear talk of 'A Just War' since any war it never has been just
And war gives rise to vengeance and to hatred and between peoples build the barriers of mistrust,
Who ever coined that phrase was far from clever though many of those words have taken note
And too many far too many silly people that awful saying are too inclined to quote.

We have not learned much from man's past history if we have learned anything at all
The innocents of Baghdad and Basra will suffer when the big bombs from the night sky will fall
For bombs don't always hit their designated targets and for war mistakes it's the innocents who pay
With their lives or the most horrific injuries and the scars of war till death with them will stay.

We have not learned much from the mistakes of our forefathers for talk of war we hear now every day
And only on the day of the Election do the people ever seem to have a say
And the hawkish leaders who see war as okay from the path that leads to war cannot be cowed
They never seem to listen to their people though the voice of protest in their ears ring loud.

poem by Francis Duggan
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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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To write is a challenge, But to understand the writer is a mystery

Right now I am writing history
Amongst a million other writers
But what makes me different
from that never ending million?

Every word has a meaning, has
it's background, I, on the hand don't.
Just a meaningless word, nothing more
But a word it is, nothing less

To write is a challenge
But to understand the writer is a mystery.
Right. Write only with the mind and heart.
So powerful, So strong, So moving.

Today, Tomorrow a never ending cycle.
Today becomes history when tomorrow becomes today.
So right now I am writing history
But tomorrow it becomes forgotten
It will not be forgotten if the writer has a mystery to solve, so to write is a challenge but to understand the writer is a mystery.

poem by Lady Simple
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That Which Plagues the History Bandits

The History Bandits swinging...
Swinging in History roll.
Up comes one leader,
Ousted or assassinated by another.
The complaints of many
Feeding the avarice of one,
Makes the humdrum into history.
An idealist Wilson, a vengeful Clemenceau or
A prudent Lloyd George...who wishes to know?
The inspiring evil Hitler or politically capitalistic Americans
Or the fearless bloody Communists...
Mould the mounds of history.
A guilty country pleading innocence,
A Rasputinian government brought down by Rasputin
Or a prince who fashioned the legends of the creatures that
Plague the human existence.

What makes History?
Of what use is History?
The questions that plague the History Bandits.
Take up the sword of ink,
Oil the wheels that turn in your head,
And ponder anew on the questions that
Makes you wonder.

Go forth the History Bandits...
Go forth, and claim your rightful path.

poem by Cheryl Jacob
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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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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 History

You look to me for some outstanding meaning
You got the devil in your eyes and nothing in your soul
If you think Im gonna sell myself, then you must be dreaming
Theres no way, Im gonna fall into your hole
You never seem to help me when Im bleeding
You gotta knife for a tongue and youre tearing at my heart
I thought you were a friend, but in truth you never liked me
You lied and cheated us from the start
You are wrong, love doesnt last forever
Youre nothing new there is no mystery
Now youre gone you thought you were so clever
You and me are now history, were history...
Solo
I dont like your face
I dont like your eyes
I dont like your lips, I hate your lies
This times the last time its goodbye time
You are wrong, love doesnt last forever
Youre nothing new there is no mystery
Now youre gone you thought you were so clever
You and me are now history, were history...
Were history, were history
I dont need you and I dont care
Were history, were history...

song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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History Stuff

Magical Mystical history and mystery,
Painted and woven on tablets and tapestry.

Cave painted hunts and sand script on tombs,
We dig for our history then fill in the wounds.

The secrets of Stonehenge and Silbury Hill,
That tapping and digging will never reveal.

See Picasso and Van Gogh, read Byron and Shelly,
Then watch the war on a plasma screen telly.

Chipped marble statues partly destroyed,
The wisdom of Nietzsche and ramblings of Freud.

Thank Romans for wine and Columbus for tea;
Thank genetics and Science for deciphering me.

History is stuff that lives in the past,
Historical characters the sets and the cast.

I’m living in history but today is for real,
I thank my lucky stars for this being alive deal.

So look me up in a thousand that’s me in the picture
I’m loving your history but I wish I could meetcha.

poem by Mark Fullick
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