Fatalism
For the future
we shall see.
Can Man ever
Destiny
twist, curve, alter?
Can Man, somersaulter,
bend ends, means, free
options fresh, from halter
‘scape – no bended knee
before Time’s altar?
Can Man, clown, palter,
rewrite his history, -
Nature’s prime defaulter –
embrace transparency
as gospel psalter?
Can Man, distorter,
learn, turn, zen key
beyond brick, mortar?
Serenity,
not self-slaughter?
Why self-torture?
What will be,
actor, watcher,
you or me, -
Fate won’t falter.
Friend why wonder
fatally?
While men ponder
history,
spirits wander…
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
It is not history which uses men as a means of achieving - as if it were an individual person - its own ends. History is nothing but the activity of men in pursuit of their ends.
A Painter Passing Through
Once upon a time I was on my own
Once upon a time like youve never known
Once upon a time I would be impressed
Once upon a time my life would be obsessed
Once upon a time, once upon a day when
I was in my prime, once along the way
If you want to know my secret dont come runnin after me
For I am just a painter passing through in history
Yesterday is gone, yesterdays alright
Yesterday belongs in my dreams at night
Yesterday is swell, yesterday is great
Yesterday is strong, remembering can wait
Once upon a time, once upon a day when
I was in my prime, once along the way
If you want to know an answer I cant turn your life around
For I am just a painter passing through the underground
I was in my stride, always at my game
Here comes mister cool, along the walk of fame
I was in demand, always in control
The world was in my hands, my touch had turn to gold
Once upon a time, I was in a daze when
I was in my prime, once along the way
If you want to know my secret dont come runnin after me
For I am just a painter passing through in history
Now that I am old, let me rest a spell
All that I am told, I can never tell
Never in my life, never will it pass
I am still alone, remembering at last
Once upon a time, once upon a day when
I was in my prime, once along the way
If you want to know an answer I cant turn your life around
For I am just a painter passing through the underground
If you want to know my secret dont come runnin after me
For I am just a painter passing through in history
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By All Means
By All Means
By: Adam M. Snow
By all means, I need to ponder,
of my life going yonder.
But though I still long for truth,
I long for those who's not uncouth.
By all means, I carried out to wonder,
when flesh and spirit sunder.
But in a world such as this,
dost Thou be amiss?
But I seek what Thou has in stored;
that statement of the Lord.
By all means, I wonder to ponder,
of my life going yonder.
Misery held me 'gainst my woes,
as if my life cease to flow.
But if it be the answer of my eternal quest,
nor any Death-but lest;
I accept the truth from Thee,
to where the Strong assure me.
I wage my life upon thy altar,
ponder here a time of falter;
I live to serve only Thee.
We think that we must be-
gods upon this earth.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Sowers-Reapers
Sodden path of Destiny
Guides out spirits fruits
As seedlings planted in
The ground
We growing more astute
The privilege garnered
By Fate
During our eduacational time
Opening our Blind eyes
Once again to see
There is reason for our rhymes
Gathering we a Starling-singing
His song of ancient history's reverie
And all the wisdom contained
Inside this most informative melody
Shall stir our gentle spirits free
To travel again upon the path of Destiny
All of our labors and fruits
We shall carry inside of we
Fianlly bringing into the World Realm
Sharing it with a God-given glow
Knowing all too-well that we
Most always do reap what we do sow!
poem by Theodora Onken
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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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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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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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Avoiding History
avoiding history is a family tradition,
draft dodging, missing wars, as far
back as my fathers go, I find
no soldiers, no warriors and also
no lovers. we don't write
in my family, we withdraw
our stories on objection, stop
telling them. we keep secrets.
I keep my own secrets and rarely
tell them, keep my truth
from coming back to hurt me.
I learn slowly but I learn well,
to keep my secrets, avoid history.
I avoided history by protesting war
and by refusing to marry.
I learned late, but I learned well.
your eyes tell your history, your belly,
in its soft geography, hints at mine.
I don't enlist, I avoid being drafted,
my bridges burn behind me.
I read history in the slope of her breasts,
her silence uses me in my telling.
I have many ways to lie,
using a sharp knife to separate
flesh from nerve, bone and tendon.
how many times have I undressed you,
hearing you tell me that I don't care
about anything, until you turn
away from me, turn on me, turn
to stone. I turn you over, exploring
history in the cleft of your ass,
touching with my hands but never
touching you, feeling alone finally,
shedding uniforms and telling stories.
lies return in the secrets I keep, hints
I cover with long explanations.
you come to me, naked, asking questions
and feel betrayed, telling me finally
that I don't matter and never
was real to you. I tell you
I was a soldier, that I fought,
and you lie to me by undressing yourself,
nakedness concealing your aims.
I read history in the curve of your thighs,
my tongue seeking your skin, seeking
you in your skin, tasting
beneath your skin. I find
your secrets, I tell your history
and turn my back to you. in sleep,
you back away, waking,
you dismiss me and I write a secret
history, full of lies and silences.
poem by Jesse Weiner
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Mystery Of Love
Seasons are changing
Children of love are alive
People reach out to survive
Together
Love is the message
We carry across the sky
Down through the passage of
Time forever
History unfolds
As this storys told
(and its) the mystery of love
How we go on and on forever
(and its) the mystery of love
Coming to rescue
Rescue me
A man and a woman
Lost in each others embrace
Star-crossed in time in a place
Far away
Innocent dreamers
Turning the wheels of chance
Searching to find romance
Forever
We will surely find
Love is for all time
(and its) the mystery of love
How we go on and on forever
(and its) the mystery of love
Only one heart can turn the key
Down through the history
Of love
Time is the one that holds
The answer
(and its) the mystery of love
Oh, will it set me free
For all time
(and its) the mystery of love
How we go on and on forever
(and its) the mystery of love
Only one heart can turn the key
Down through the history
Of love
Time is the one that holds
The answer
(and its) the mystery of love
How we go on and on forever
(and its) the mystery of love
Only one heart can turn the key...
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The History Of Tomorrow
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of light
By dumping us in the dark with pits everywhere
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of food
By asking us to chop several fire-woods to heat up a pot full of stones
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of job creation
By making us slaves on our own soil
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of education
By dumping us in dilapidated buildings without teachers
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of accountability
By looting our treasury and asking us for yet another term in office
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of safety
By leaving pot holes large enough to swallow countless accident victims on our roads
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our bows and arrows
Would secure our future
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of a country, a country with countless heroes
It’s the history of a country, a country with countless robbers
Robbers with fame
Robbers without shame
Robbers that we would roast with flame
© Adegbenro Adekunle Jacob
Tomorrow’s history is today. All world leaders must make real democracy work. They must be selfless. We must not wait until there is horror and terror before we learn. Nigerian leaders must shun CORRUPTION.
poem by Adegbenro Adekunle
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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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Humanity Always Rises From Slavery
freedom is a choice
some have no choice
some embrace freedom
embrace freedom aspired
to with life risk abandonment
life given on cusp freedom
threshold mind enlightenment
we embrace our true birthright
born separating mind into heart
mind soul demands free spirit
history records tyrant oppression
history records slave rebellion
history teaches freedom liberation
poem by Terence George Craddock
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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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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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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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Change
You said
she soon will change
you hoped
in time he will alter
yet heard lies
and saw her falter
and him doped
So now make a u-turn
let the tire burn
and the fire retire
Lessen the range
review the facts
limit the scope
go on and adjust
yardstick your acts
Modify your plan
for she will not alter
and he will not change
but my friend then
you can
poem by Paul Hartal
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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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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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Rochester Cathedral 2005
Pass by this ancient door and pause
Look upon it very history etched in stone
Wonder at its age and all who stood,
As you are standing now, looking.
The good and great of history
Have passed its portals just like you
Kings and Queens of every age
Have worshiped here, the Christ King.
Sit, be still, as voices young and old
Raise in perfect sound, the alleluia’s
To echo round the vaulted heights.
Kneel and pray as others have
So many times before through history
Evidence of the living God worshiped still.
Here Justus placed his knee in prayer
When all was daub and wattle
The imprint of history remains however
A time line of experience, and calling.
Today its mission written large in stone
To worship the alpha and omega
We see its beginnings, its end?
Is always in the future, waiting.
poem by James Tipp
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U-turn
Yeah, ay yo
2000 its us
Yo, its time to u-turn
Ya heard me?
Youre either with us - or against us, yo
Its been some years now
Since we hit the floor to get down
We always had a step to go with the sound
Now everybody wanna sit around, drink and ball
Remember, the snake
And how the floor used to clear
And everybody would break
Whats crunk now used to be called getting to it
Were bringing it all back
This is how we do it, just
Put your hands up, bend your knees
Bounce around in a circle, get down with me
Oh come on, come on
Its not hard to learn
Come on, come on
Its called the u-turn
Put your hands up, bend your knees
Bounce around in a circle, get down with me
Oh come on, come on
Its not hard to learn
Come on, come on
Its called the u-turn
In the 80s, fresh was the talk
Mj had everybody doing the moonwalk
In the 90s, I had a high flat top
Doing the wop, pee wee to the reebok
I cant forget about my high school days
The sound was bobby brown
The dance was the running man
Now everybody wanna push bentleys
The year is 2 - everybody do the u-turn
Put your hands up, bend your knees
Bounce around in a circle, get down with me
Oh come on, come on
Its not hard to learn
Come on, come on
Its called the u-turn
Put your hands up, bend your knees
Bounce around in a circle, get down with me
Oh come on, come on
Its not hard to learn
Come on, come on
Its called the u-turn
All you need to do is let go
Let the tempo take over you
I came to have a good time
Let the rhythm deep iside your soul
Let it lead you to the floor, whoa
Put your hands up, bend your knees
Bounce around in a circle, get down with me
Oh come on, come on
Its not hard to learn
Come on, come on
Its called the u-turn
song performed by by Usher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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