Fear (part1)
Elders muttering with fear
of the youngones
my king now speak
with unGodfulness why must
my own history unpage
time is falling apart
my village now run
out for help why
why must my history
untold
time & tide have some
friutfulness
where are the me
to stand out fate.....
poem by Senator alufalism
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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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Southerndown South Wales No3
History Writ Large
Like layered cake the tide washes
The crumbled mix of history
Laid down in times that ceased so long ago
Yet stand so resolute for all to see.
Peering through the lens of time
We scan the distant vista with impunity
The cliffs that tower over all the bays
Along this ragged coastline etched in time
We feel the hand of God writ large
Yet most who pass this way see nothing
Nothing but the weathered view
Transient and ephemeral, short lived
But here history was made and carved
In the mind of God and in eternity
Southerndown South Wales
November 2004
No 3 in the Southerndown Trilogy
poem by James Tipp
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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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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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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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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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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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History Stones People.
History stones people.
They stoned Moses, David and Linclon,
history did that for all to see
Marbel and cement,
that's all it leaves behind
of a long changing life.
Great heroes of time,
fall under the mercy
of the sculptor's knife.
History stones faces,
in a way that would make
ecclestias cringe.
History stones feet,
in a way that would make
piligrims cry.
History stones life
to always stay fresh,
yet, what is life without
the sins of the flesh.
All the radical kids
get stoned
and never change
or even move a muscle.
All the sword raising warriors
history stoned
without blood in their veins.
You can see all the victims
that history stoned
when you walk in the park,
they got kings
and queens
hell, they even got Gods.
They are there captive
in history's stones,
never to be again what they were;
wilting flesh and
breakable bones.
People look up at them
they are victims too.
History's stones fall far,
even on to you.
Those stoned to live
are like the ones stoned to die.
enslaved to the search
of the frozen smile.
Life is a burning bush
that doesn't get consumed.
not a dead rock
or a statue of history.
It's a fusing wind
of happinnes and misery.
An exploding volcano
of courage and fear.
It is the stem of the flower
struggling through the seasons
to stand and bloom
above the drying soil.
Life is the fighting wave
you see at sea
forgotten and denied
by the stones of history.
poem by Samuel Katz
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Black Fate
I often reflect on history
I am reminded of where I stand
I am told I am not equal
That my skin is inferior
God gave me strength, yet,
I am incapable of sustaining life riches
History determines our fate
poem by Angela Khristin Brown
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Without Them We Wouldn't Be Here
Ask yourself this question right now,
Is your view on your elders to mock,
If it is it's time ask yourself why,
You must put yourself in the dock.
To properly assess your role in this life,
Your history you just have to respect,
Those generations who have went before,
On them take some time to reflect.
Would you seek advice from your elders,
Or does the thought of that leave you cold,
Life is short so don't ever forget,
One day you yourself will grow old.
Throughout history our Mothers and Fathers,
Have encouraged their offspring to learn,
That the gift of life you must treasure,
The respect of all others you must earn.
Do you really know your Grandparents,
If not you must ask yourself why,
The knowledge they've gained is invaluable,
They also have an unlimited supply.
When they impart their vision of life to you,
Wisdom comes to the one who listens,
Our elders are worth far more than you think,
Remember it's is not just gold that glistens.
They also had parents who loved them,
If they've passed do you know their location,
Find out where they've been laid to rest,
It's a search which will bring such elation.
You'll then find it highly rewarding to find,
You're but a branch on a very large tree,
That generation gap will be cast to the side,
The knowledge gained will set your mind free.
Finally you'll have learned the meaning of life,
Age should never be used as a barrier,
We are all growing old from the day we are born,
Of that message you are now the carrier.
That question you posed will be answered,
Your life will become crystal clear,
We've a lot to thank our elders for,
‘' Without Them We Wouldn't Be Here ''
For the very first time the young are seeing history being made before it is censored by their elders.
quote by Margaret Mead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Thanks to television, for the first time the young are seeing history made before it is censored by their elders.
quote by Margaret Mead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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I Am Apart Of History
I am apart of history
History lies deep down inside of me
I am like Martin Luther King
Just like him I'm going to let freedom ring
I am like Mary Bethune
Because like Maya Angelou I walk like I got oil wells pumping in my living room
I am apart of history
History is important to me
I am like Charles DREW
Like him I can be a scientist too
I am like Malcolm X
Come on my sisters and brothers we have to stop that
I am like Chainey, Schwenger and Moore
I will get people to vote I will go to every door
I am apart of history
I accept the rights my ancestors gave to me
I am like Jackie Robinson
Lokking in the sky at my home runs
I am like Harriet Tubman
Taking slaves to their freedom land
I am like Medgar Evers
Like him I too can be clever
I am like Barack Obama
Rising above to greatness despite the drama
I am apart of history
History is deep down inside of me
poem by Jeanette Matthews
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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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Racial history is therefore natural history and the mysticism of the soul at one and the same time; but the history of the religion of the blood, conversely, is the great world story of the rise and downfall of peoples, their heroes and thinkers, their inventors and artists.
quote by Alfred Rosenberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Ending Of The Sad Story
it is such sad history
that even I am noting have
the strength to describe it
our country star, moved to the city
and were missing fresh air,
one meadow, water and fields,
not mentioning forests which
we seated - a long time ago when
not yet was our children
and this way, we were full of hope,
that will grow out of the star, super star
and the village will get well-deserved
bonuses like the most however,
our country star, moved to the city
and we ran short of words in order
to stop her a village, administrator said,
but alone she came back longing
behind the fresh air, one meadow,
fields and forests which alone we planted.
and now, this sad history isn't already
so sad but... I am pressed for time
entire to describe. I must see to it...
about the star, because again for us
she will splatter...
poem by Maria Barbara Korynt
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If Jesus Christ was who He claimed to be, and He did die on a cross at a point of time in history, then, for all history past and all history future it is relevant because that is the very focal point for forgiveness and redemption.
quote by Josh McDowell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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