Soldiers Rest
This mound of earth, now greened o'er;
Such a small plot for his large spirit.
We all come to this small space,
Or else are set free in the playful air
By those left to mourn our passing.
The small deeds of the anonymous,
Are by history soon forgotten;
Yet upon these backs great deeds were done.
Yet those who gaze down history's path,
They only see bright luminaries;
Not this simple soul who lies here now.
Beneath this bright daisy sprinkled lawn
Neath a stone that bears no name
Crumbling and grey with age
And soon to tumble into dust.
poem by Paul Brookes
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Related quotes
Three Kinds of People
The books of my history
Begins with comedy
And end with tragedy
“Son”, do you know this
Spontaneous?
If you don’t know
Don’t mind
Your father will tell you.
There are three kinds of people
But the history knows only two
The first are foxy foxes
Who do right things and
Great good deeds
They stand at the top of history
The second are mad dogs
Who do wrong things and
Great evil deeds
They stand at the bottom of history
The third are piggy hyenas
Who are neither wise nor foolish?
Who cannot do right or wrong?
The history doesn’t know them
They have no chapter in history book
Can you choose among them for
Your inspiration and if you
Can heed my advice
The foxes are the best stars
To stick to.
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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Small Talk
Its not the chapters he reads when youre feeling low down
Its not the touch of his skin when you kiss him goodnight
Its not the money he spends when you want to buy a daydream
And not that miracle smile that makes the sky bright
Its not the way his hands behave
When youve turned out the light
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen
Small, small small talk that makes you want to fly, yes it does
Its not the way he believes in you like a religion
Its not the thrill that you get when hes holding you tight
Its not the way his eyes persuade
You to stay the night
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen (just like that)
Small, small small talk that makes you feel like flying, yes it does
Information, heart and soul, a whisper, a word
Confessions that have to be heard
Small small talk
Come on now, come on now
Come on - you make it rock so heavenly
Come on now, come on now
Come on - you seem to talk so heavenly
Big words...
Small talk...
Its not the way his eyes persuade
You to stay the night
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen
Small, small small talk that makes you feel like flying, yes it does
song performed by by Roxette
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 is Bunkum
History is Bunkum
History is often written by the victor
A web of deceit woven by the writer
To glorify the deeds of his master
And decry the good deeds of the loser:
His name is vilified
His good deeds set aside
His just cause demonised
Only the winner is glorified
History is father and mother of lies
Fabrications the writer describes
Leaving us an account after his demise,
A legacy that hopefully fools and survives
The passage of time testifies to its credibility
Self-interest confers on it the seal of authenticity
It is then paraded as the voice of truth and sanity
But we all know it is mostly hot air and vanity.
poem by Isam Hussain
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Small Soul
Small soul’s alone in the night
It’s small
But it’s still a soul
The tiny light
That shines in the dark
Small soul glows dim in the fight
It’s small
But it’s really a soul
Though it looks weak
It’s struggling inside
Small soul keeps attracting my heart
It’s small
But it’s a beautiful soul
It may easily disappear
But it could also grow stronger
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Small deeds done are better than great deeds planned.
quote by Peter Marshall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Couplet: Come With Me (Ekphrasis)
This door was cut from the same tree
that held Me up for all to see.
There's no latch, bolt, padlock, or key,
swing it open, (your name) come with Me.
Follow My lead. Stay close behind.
The path's narrow. See how it winds?
Pace yourself and don't make a sound—
we're passing over hallowed ground.
Not many have ventured this way.
They don't like the small gate they say.
Most prefer that wide road over there;
it's large, red gates are a matched pair.
Look up ahead. See that bright light?
That's My signal. An angel's in flight.
Not to worry we'll be safe now—
we're near My Father's house anyhow.
We'll soon behold My Father's throne.
Don't be afraid you're not alone.
Ask My Father for all your needs.
He'll reward you for your good deeds.
You'll claim victory just like Me.
I paid the price that set you free.
Father gave Me a throne like His.
My reward was eternal bliss!
poem by Caryl Ramsdale
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One Small Voice!
just one small voice
in a sea of voices,
all different languages,
male and female...
crying out against the roar:
WE WANT TO BE FREE!
one small voice,
a face soon forgotten,
but a body and a soul...
one small voice,
but now every voice counts,
we are together the voice
of humanity and hope...
WE WANT TO BE FREE!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Relativity
I looked down on a daisied lawn
To where a host of tiny eyes
Of snow and gold from velvet shone
And made me think of starry skies.
I looked up to the vasty night
Where stars were very small indeed,
And in their galaxy of light
They made me think of daised mead.
I took a daisy in my hold;
Its snowy rays were tipped with rose,
And with its tiny boss of gold
I thought--how like a star it glows!
I dreamt I plucked from Heaven's field
A star and held it in my hand.
Said I: "The might of God I wield,
The Great and Small I understand."
For when the All is said and done,
In Time and Space I seem to see
A daisy equal to a sun,
Between heart-beats--Eternity
poem by Robert William Service
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Snail Crossing.... (Part Fourteen)
and so we are but this...
the match struck ablaze,
for a moment and gone...
the flower that blooms for a day.
the rain dropp dissolving into the earth,
the small stone washed away,
when the river surges.
the memory of dawn
forgotten in the night...
the lonesome farewell of the snail
crossing just before light...
leaving only a small wet trail
as evidence of passing! , , ,
and the shout of joy,
that sounds like silence!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Small Town
Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Probly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities
All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity
Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic thats me
But Ive seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an l.a. doll and brought her to this small town
Now shes small town just like me
No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be
Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look whos in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and thats good enough for me
Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And thats probly where theyll bury me
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nothing Ever Last
The World's great Empires have gone to decay
They rose and they fell and each had their day
And one Super Power rise as another does fall
And the small will grow great and the great become small.
The Pharoahs and the Aztecs and the Incas as well
And the all conquering Romans too had their glorious spell
And the Spaniards and the British of the recent past
Were known to be great Empires but they too did not last.
The Soviets and Germans great power did command
But their demise not that hard to understand
Since great powers they come and great powers they go
Though nothing lasts forever as history does show.
Genghis Khan and Napoleon and Alexander the Great
These all conquering heroes had their use by date
Though in the history of the World their names living on
The Empires they ruled over like them are long gone.
Un-rivalled for supremacy as the World Super Power of today
By far the most powerful Nation is the U S of A
But as history does tell us nothing ever last
And one day they too will be a power of the past.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Small Things Bother Me
He wore dark glasses I could not see his eyes
And the mirror to his soul he did disguise
He hid from the World his personality
Without the eyes a face you only see.
Perhaps his eyes from the bright sun he shade
The main reason why dark glasses are made
And though he lives nearby him I shall never get to know
As he wears dark glasses rain or sun shine or snow.
Any acknowledgement of me he never seems to show
And we pass each other by without saying hello
Through his dark glasses into my soul he peer
And he's still a stranger though to me he lives near.
Perhaps I'm small in ways and small things get to me
But it bothers me when others eyes I cannot see
Whether their eyes be blue, brown, green or grey who can say
As the mirror to their soul behind dark glasses hidden away.
I see him often though not every day
And his eyes behind dark glasses always hidden away
The mirror of his soul is well hidden from me,
Perhaps I'm small and small things bother me.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Blonde curly head
When you run joyous into the garden
the whole world lies open before you
while it's autumn, leaves are stripped from branches
and you look great-eyed at the small lizard
where it hides in a small hole in the wall,
and you notice a pool with big Koi fish
that watches you from beneath the water of the pond
and then you try to touch and feel
with your small hands and the water is cool,
while you catch a small frog
and press that animal against your cheek,
while it feels as if eternity is lingering there
and suddenly it jumps from your wet hands
as a strange wet thing.
poem by Gert Strydom
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One Small Step
So many people
Need to go so many miles
How do we move them
To where the answer lies
Reach out to the ocean
Beyond the stars that shine
Weve got to take one small step in time
If we are the dreamers
Then the world must be the dream
Driven to question
All the things weve never seen
We search the horizon
Looking for a sign
Weve got to take one small step in time
One step beyond
All our hopes and our passion
There is the light of the universe flashin
All that it takes is one leap of faith
One small step, (one small step)
One small step in time
Deep in the darkness
(deep in the blackness)
Theres a wind that never dies
(theres a wind that never dies)
Out in the vastness
(out in the vastness)
Theres a road across the sky
(a road across the sky)
Out there is the reason
That we were meant to find
Weve got to take one small step in time
Weve got to take one small step in time
(one small step, one small step)
One small step in time
(one small step, one small step)
One small step in time
(one small step, one small step)
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wıshes of Freedom
Caged in the small jail
Of my body
I live,
And
Call myself
“Free spirit”.
Bound by the chains
Of rules
Set by a few of us
We act,
And
Call ourselves
“Independent”.
Tied by the ropes of
Society
Like a herd of sheep
We follow each
Blindly behind another
And call ourselves
“Pioneers”.
Jailed in small
Cabins of regulations
We kill for lust and greed
And call ourselves
“Martyrs”
Captured in small guarded boundaries
Of earth
We breathe
And
Call ourselves
“Free countries”.
Mounting the horse
Of my winged thoughts
I often wish
To break the jails
Loosen the ropes
Fly out
Beyond the reach
Of the vast sky.
I often wish,
If we could be
More real,
True pioneers and martyrs.
For then,
Freedom won’t mean
Small boundaries
Of guarded earth.
Will have
The whole of it
To roam about.
But,
Soon as the gallop stops
I am back in my jail
My wishes of freedom
A cry so frail.
And
Caged in the small jail
Of my body
I live,
And continue
Calling myself
“Free spirit”.
poem by Anjali Kakati
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A Small Girl (Poetic Soul)
Southwest Detroit,
Old streets, ancient history,
Grey factory town
Weeping lonely rain,
A small girl
Moves from the city
And her cat is left behind.
The birth of melancholy eyes
And a poetic soul
Begin in delicate tenderness.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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My soul tells off my playful spirit
My soul tells off my playful spirit
Where is thine reverence it asks
I bow my head and ask forgiveness
But I know not for which giggling task
This soul has seen and felt deep love
And has touched great wonder sublime
It shares this love with its true dearest
Sending spirit free for playful rhyme
So when soul tells off my playful spirit
It's hard to take it seriously
As spirit knows that soul has caused
My love to spill for you deliriously
poem by Harriet James
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A Small Anonymous Word
A SMALL ANONYMOUS WORD
A small anonymous word
A word of praise-
How much this can mean,
To the lonely writer.
Writing far away and unseen
Forever to be unknown?
A small word of praise
How much it can mean?
Thank you my few readers
Whoever
You are.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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