Reactions Difficult To Detach
Unknowledgeable about one's own history...
And yet publicly denouncing,
A history documented by another...
May 'be' one's druthers to do.
However...
If one has committed,
To speak with untruths as is done...
It should behoove others advocating their trust,
By a giving of that to one who speaks up...
To have that someone representing their interests,
To make their speeches with facts attached.
And not spill ignorance from their guts!
With embarrassing reactions difficult to detach.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Pointless It Is To Back Away
When choosing allies...
One should not do it with the same caution,
As excuses and alibis are done.
Difficult it is to run away from deception,
After advocating to shun someone...
With a joining of those,
Who have also been told to oppose.
Without a making of a conscious decision,
To be prepared to receive repercussions.
Pointless it is to back away from embarrassing facts.
Since many choose to be on the side,
Of what is perceive to be popular and fun.
With nothing that proves a reality comes,
To anyone until it is too late.
Only to leave those with a discovery,
Popularity is seldom on the side of truth!
Especially when people are seduced,
By trickery and foolishness used to attract.
And so many people are just like that.
Pointless it is to back away from embarrassing facts.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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For Purposes To Eliminate
Nothing keeps me committed,
To your interpretation of facts.
Or your decision to accept,
My dismissal of your beliefs.
My gut reactions felt,
Do not keep themselves attached...
Emotionally.
I quickly digest for purposes to eliminate.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New Yorkers love it when you spill your guts out there. Spill your guts at Wimbledon and they make you stop and clean it up.
quote by Jimmy Connors
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 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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We Sing History
History sings, sings what?
Violence? Peace? No.
History sings of truth…
History sings of facts,
which becomes music to our ears.
Like birds chirping
early in the morning.
We learn it. We treasure it.
We sing it… we sing it.
We became part of it.
It was always burning
since the world’s been turning…
History is an endless song.
Distressing, cheerful.
So many cries, so many deaths.
They fought for freedom,
we fight for peace.
Have we won?
Haven’t they heard we won the war
what do they keep on fighting for?
History sings of truth…
History sings of facts,
which becomes music to our ears?
Like stars gleaming
in the dark naked sky.
It’s always there.
So why sing it? Why hear it?
Why learn it? Why treasure it?
Because…
we’re part of it….
poem by Fritzner Erauda
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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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Standards Connected to a Celebrated Ancestry
I'm not one to research the background,
Or the history of a felon or a thief.
However...
The romanticizing of criminals,
Is not my reason to live and breathe.
And although this is overglorified,
As a symbolized way to be.
Why are there laws denouncing these acts?
When they flourish with encouragement,
As witnessed on TV.
I'm not one to research the background,
Or the history of a felon or a thief.
But I do question the morality,
Of those elected to positions...
Who speak self righteously,
In public.
To leech as they please...
As if to reflect standards connected,
To a celebrated ancestry.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
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The history of the past interests us only in so far as it illuminates the history of the present.
quote by Ernest Dimnet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our History
If my history would end here
I know
your history will begin.
Our history
happens not at the same time
how I wish I could see
what history you will make.
If my history would end here
I know
your history will begin.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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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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It's Not Over
Listen
We don't call the shots here
We don't make the rules
We take what we get, get what we can
And it's learning the hard way
Here on the streets
You can't build a dream, without a plan
(passion speaks) let them hear you speak
(play for keeps) they play to win, we play for keeps
Chorus:
It's not over 'til it's over
It's not over 'til we get it right
The odds are against us
They say we don't stand a chance
But there's no giving up, no giving in
When push comes to shove
You got to fight for what you love
You do what you must, do what you can
(passion speaks) let them hear you speak
(play for keeps) they play to win, we play for keeps
It's not over 'til it's over (it's not over)
It's not over 'til we get it right
It's not over 'til it's over (don't go giving in)
It's not over 'til we get it right
The odds are against us
But you know we still stand a chance
But there's no giving up, no giving in
It's not over
It's not over 'til it's over
It's not over 'til we, 'til we, 'til we get it right
It's not over 'til it's over
It's not over 'til we, 'til we, 'til we get it right
It's not over 'til it's over
Don't go giving in now
song performed by by Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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History- a myth
The older a history grows
The poorer the facts remain,
Falser it waxes.
Yet, we believe the history.
20.10.2001, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Smoke, Mist and Nebulous Things
Tell me then your perceptions of the past
Tell me why hard facts are hard today
Facts tomorrow, then gone away
Do facts, then, rarely last?
Watching the march of time, the artefacts
The ruins they continue to dig up day by day
What remains of those wonderful beings
Who peopled our fables and myths
Smoke, mist and other nebulous things
Spirited them away
Tiptoe in history’s corridors
Crowns, coins and chariots
People, peasants, and simple folk
Just spirited clean away
Where do they lie now?
Unknowns jostling in history’s corridors.
Queens, courtesans, mothers of kings
Toys and things, necklaces and dreams
Smoke, mist and other nebulous things
Spirited them away
Tiptoe in history’s corridors
The modified history of the world
Domination, nomination, abomination
Smoke and mist and nebulous things
Have spirited everyone away.
poem by Rani Turton
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Love: The History (Radha-35)
The history will not speak of you
No one was aware of it
Though
I had known
The history today,
so embarrassed and unprepared
had not been able to cuddle you
In its lap
Who will it answer?
And you refused to be a goddess
You were well aware
That
It was not useful for you
To be a goddess
After waiting for someone
For unlimited ages
You still aspire to
Continue waiting
Still frozen as an unknown monument
Half destroyed
Just because
You can remember me in your mind
You chose to remain human.
Had the history knew
History after history would come up after
And would be accountable
To the successor.
The questions would only return
To the history itself
Striking back the infinity (emptiness)
The history stands with bowing head
In front of you
Not able to measure your emptiness.
How will it understand your waiting?
Before so many ages
And so many ages ahead
You keep searching to whom
round and round
With your unflickered eyes.
poem by Subrat Pradhan
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Some Premeditate What They Say
When I speak,
I am not team motivated.
Nor am I representing a cause,
From a membership of devoted worship.
When I speak,
Sometimes I do admit...
My head is quick to release words,
My heart has not had an opportunity to examine...
Before my lips respond.
But when I do speak,
I have to deliver my words with honesty.
Some premeditate what they say.
As if to have had rehearsed their reactions as well.
I do this.
And I know I am not alone.
I have to control my temper,
The best way I can.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fueled By Gossip That Initiates Attacks
I'm sure they now feel foolish.
Those who publicly ridiculed.
Those who raised such banners high...
To announced themselves as uninformed,
In a united display...
Of an ignorance done their way.
With an absence of facts.
And fueled by gossip that initiates attacks.
I'm sure they now feel used and foolish.
The ones who have chosen to perform like that.
I'm sure they now feel foolish.
Those who publicly ridiculed.
Those who raised such banners high...
To announced themselves as uninformed,
In a united display...
Of an ignorance done their way.
As they convey...
A love of paraded stupidity!
With a pretense that is charaded.
As if comprehension of facts are made!
And doing this daily with truth in their way...
I'm sure they now feel foolish.
But what can anyone to a fool say?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Endures
Only that which has been examined to be labelled,
Begins to establish a documented history.
And the doing of it creates a repetitiveness,
The majority declares is a stability one can rely upon.
With a determining for them what is right and wrong.
Then there comes along,
Something that has not been labelled.
Something suspiciously different.
And something unfamiliar many fear that threatens.
Then a testing of it begins.
Not to ensure its acceptance but to guarantee its end.
It endures through attacks.
It endures with a fighting back.
It endures over the countless obstacles,
To amaze those who wish suddenly to know...
More of its existence with more identifiable facts.
And it seems when that has been adventured,
That which is not going to change...
Eventually teaches its own lessons.
And those who get them do!
And those who refuse to budge or move...
Remain confused as most people stubbornly choose,
When something they confront...
Is not going to change its own identity to please an ignorance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Seems Deliberate To Soften The Blows
It seems deliberate to soften the blows,
When facts are revealed and the truth is exposed.
And the advocating of attacks on those picked,
Have been publicly admitted...
To have those accusing to be in the midst of it.
It seems deliberate to soften the blows,
When opposition discover themselves as foes...
And not the ones they have depicted to be,
Of criminal intent...
As they wish others to believe and perceive.
It seems deliberate to soften the blows,
When it has been revealed and the public knows...
Who has been incompetent!
With a sleazing of an integrity,
Undercover but eventually discovered.
To then have themselves excused...
With a forgiveness wished to be given.
And alibis used.
As a defense mechanism,
To make senseless their attacks...
They were prepared to abuse others without the facts
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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