History Books
We read the history books
The death and destruction
That happened time
And time again
But remembering is futile,
Without total and complete consensus
War will happen again
The memories of the Elders
While we sit on the lap of danger
We are listening in awe
and disbelief
It could never happen here
Ten thousand dead!
The headlines blare
In some alternate universe
Separate from our cushioned existence
Their lives are marked by tragedy
Ours by the tragedy we have escaped
Our army is only numbers
Theirs dear departed souls
Their stories are separated by a barrier
Faceless, courageous people
Risk their lives each day
While we sit
And read the history books
poem by Hannah Rachnid
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All About History
History is the past
What do we need it for?
Time runs out real fast
Who cares what happened before? !
Princes who were wed
Forget what your teacher said
No need to fill your head
With people who are dead
Why do we need to know
Let them rest in peace
They died and we will so
From books their lives release
i wrote this one in a history exam (i didnt have anything else to do)
History?
Has history taught us nothing
but tales and ancient lies?
All wrapped up in stories
not told us by the wise?
Told by the vicars who consecrated death
Told by the rulers
with power in their breath.
Passed on in written words
in books the masses read,
never questioned, never disputed
in the minds they lead.
Slanted stories still present
right to our present day.
Foes of peace seen as heroes
in ungodly ways
and as we live the history writers
will pen each blazing act
as benificent for these difficult times,
more fiction than true fact.
So those who follow in our steps
will read our history book
and what they read will be fantasy
with a different look.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Romance Of A Book
Reading a book, you're hit by romance,
No matter the subject matter,
You can read and read,
And every book is different,
Some stories are more pleasant than others,
While some are funny, but most are serious,
For the romance of a book,
Is in everyone's heart,
No matter their age or height,
Whether male or female:
It is all relative and I devour,
Each and every book,
I can read the classics,
Or even a heart-warming romance,
I just get through so many books,
I love every storyline,
Not so much the gory parts,
But the cleverness of the fictional detectives,
And those rock stars that roam the stage,
For a book is something that will never age,
No matter how many years on the shelf,
And stories can be shared with everyone else,
Yet everyone has their own views,
And books can be lifting when they're feeling blue,
For people have been reading fiction for centuries,
But, of course, not all books are fictional:
There're the historical books, interesting,
Even if a reader is just passing through,
And we can all learn something from the history books,
And let's not forget the autobiographies:
Many a man and woman fascinating,
Having lead unique lives and having had special loves,
And there is a romance to these people,
For they walked the same earth as everyone else,
Yet brought something strange and special to the world,
Like a scientist making a new discovery,
Or a rock star penning a hit song,
And all these things are which make books belong,
I haven't met anyone yet who finds books boring,
Because books are not boring: they are fascinating,
Unique, special, strange, romantic and enjoyable,
And every reader's dream: like hitting 'play' on a record,
For this is the romance of a book.
poem by Paula Glynn
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Following Orders As Soldiers.
Some follow orders well,
Others question authority
Everyone is someone's child
And sad it is
When their lives are snuffed.
Perhaps the War is noble
Could well be, that it is just
And pitiful are the answer
When consulting history books
Death is a constant
Remembrance a must
Difficult it is to judge when
The Victor writes the history books
© Calac.
poem by Chris Lane
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I think that's not a question that one can answer accurately. I read a whole range of books, quite a lot of history at the time, and still do read a lot. I read very widely.
My heart goes out to victims and survivors of the Hurricane Katrina tragedy and to their families. This disaster will go down in history books as one of the largest natural disasters in U.S. history.
quote by Ellen Tauscher
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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One Blue Buffalo (Sestina)
Snow swirled and blew over the plain
the minutes melted into hours
the frosted buffalo stood still
solid against the breath of time
it faced life and death with scotch
colored eyes, affected by nothing and no one
each winter struggle the buffalo won
illustrated mastery of blue sky and plain—
wicked winds and flying ice could not scotch
survival that desperately depended on each hour
it was the buffalo’s time—the natives’ time
and without hesitation it remained still
history remembers lost time, still
it is accepted by most and accurate to no one
misrepresentations are drawn by this time—
what happened on the buffalo’s plain
or in the blue of each pond, each hour
history changes—reality is scotched
wicked truths, told through fifths of Scotch
through the gaze of the present hold time still,
moments disregard the buffalo to becomes ours,
the blue past of many is unwillingly chained to one—
ancient sunsets over purple and yellow plains
are prisoners of industry, technology, history and time
ancient senses remain unaffected by lavender, sage or thyme
they cannot revive what books have done to scotch
the blue buffalo that dotted the wicked plain
the petrified past is bound to remain still,
years, days, faces, herds, species become one—
books have the inability to retrieve a single hour
or a history that is the buffalo’s, the natives’, ours
when books are replaced by computers, in time,
history will be reborn, all of our days will become one
technology will distort this time, scotch
our truths, a hundred thousand sunsets will remain still
billions of blue lives will paint a picture that’s plain
our truths and a past we’ll never know become scotched
time is irrelevant when lives mesh to singular sights—everything’s still
one blue buffalo stands on a museum wall in the whirl of winter winds, silent against time’s plain
poem by Jane L. Carman
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I read all the time... I read a lot of history books.
quote by Mickey Spillane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Multicultural Melbourne
Melbourne Immigration Museum
I stroll,
Past history,
Past lives,
Past stories.
I see for the first time MY nation’s history,
My nations courage,
My nations suffering,
My eyes glaze over
And realisation creeps up on me.
I see stories of the past and present,
Played out before me,
The lives of Australia’s people,
Australia’s history
poem by Katie Anne
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Face In The Sand
Everyone's waiting for something to happen
Everybody's waiting for something to see
Lunatics waiting for bigger disasters
Everyone's waiting for news on TV
Winding lives at the end of the spiral
Waiting dictators with their next big thrill
Everyone's looking but no one is listening
Everybody wants to be in at the kill
I wait for the signs, they tell me true
I see the signs of the end of time
Everyone's searching but nothing's revealing
Everyone's looking for the reason why
Everyone's hoping for life everafter
Everyone's looking at death from the sky
Everyone's nightmares are going to happen
Everybody's ripping the mask from their eyes
Everyone's praying but no one's believing
Everybody's heroes tell everyone's lies
I wait for the signs, they tell me true
I see the signs of the end
So I watch and I wait
And I pray for an answer
An end to the strife and the world's misery
But the end never came
And we're digging the graves
And we're loading the guns for the kill
Can the end be at hand?
Is the face in the sand?
Future memory of our tragedy
Can the end be at hand?
Is the face in the sand?
Future memory of our tragedy
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I finish a book a week, I will read only a few thousand books in my lifetime, about a tenth of a percent of the contents of the greatest libraries of our time. The trick is to know which books to read.
Carl Sagan in Cosmos
Submitted by Catalin Popescu
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Danger Zone
I can't imagine how hard it must be, to be you
Adopting all your history, it's hard being me too
Are your secrets where you left them
Cause now your ghosts are mine as well
I think it's time I met them and I think it's time you tell
And you should have told me when you met me
All these things I should know
I should have asked, we should have talked
About this so long ago
It's not fair, it's not fair
And don't leave me here
How's this happening to me
It feels so lonely here
We are in a mess, a danger zone
What will happen next, you never know
We are in a mess, a danger zone
What will happen next, you never know
Now we share the closet, now you've let me come inside
And now you're finally undressing, and I feel like I might die
The damage is infectious, the confession is too late
And how can I accept this
How is this happening to me
It's not fair, it's not fair
And I come up for air
How's this happening to me
It feels so lonely here
We are in a mess, a danger zone
What will happen next, you never know
We are in a mess, a danger zone
What will happen next, you never know
You never know
You never know
All of your secrets
All your lies, all of it
We are in a mess, a danger zone
What will happen next, you never know
We are in a mess, a danger zone
What will happen next, you never know
[2x]
song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By Those Interested In War History
By those interested in war history war history is read
But the winners write the war history or so it is said
That is how it is and will always be
What is true to one is not to another that's how it seems to me
Of war and war heroes many stories are written and many poems to recite
And mostly of war winners that war writers stories do write
And readers believe what they want to believe
And the mothers of the war dead for their dead children grieve
In war as in life 'tis the winners who count
And the stories of losers to little amount
For the dead war heroes many a parade
And far too many films of war have been made
And 'tis mostly the winners write the war history
That is how it is and always will be.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Anything Can Happen
Time will come when we know what happened here
Change will come in time and make it clear
We learn one thing if we learn at all
In the secret wars we call our lives
Anything can happen
We watch the days, we make our plans
We change in ways a life demands
But what ever pleasure this life may allow
Ill give you the love I have for you now
Because anything can happen
In a world so full of fear
Dreams are whispered in the dead of night
And people disappear
But you hear my heart and you know Im still here
Although you know and I know you know
While I swear Ill never let you go
Anything can happen
Yeah, if this love can happen here
Anything can
We watch the days we make our plans
We change in ways a life demands
Ill always remember this time, this place
The hope in your voice, the light on your face
Because anything can happen
In a world so full of pain
People give their lives to making war
And we call those people sane
But I love you where your dreams remain
Though you never say it anymore
One day therell be an end to this war
And who knows
We may see what were here for
Anything can happen
Yeah, if this love has found us here
Anything can
Can happen
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To the Departed Soul of my dear friend KASTHURI-Poem-1
To the departed soul
of my dear friend
KASTHURI
POEM -1
Oh! my Kasthuri!
My dear, dear friend!
My beloved, revered, a God-send!
I know not
What sin of any sort
I ever did commit, even in thought
To lose you,
A gem of lives few
Who attained full nobility true!
To your duty tightly tied,
You were kindness personified,
With simplicity swinging in your stride!
Beauty you ardently loved,
Gulping it to your heart's content, you roved,
But by fate's cruel hand were you shoved!
Books and books you read,
All day your eyes on them, you shed,
Peace they instilled even in thy death-bed!
A loving dear indeed!
My heart's fond friend in need;
From Death's icy hands, her life I couldn't plead!
Wherever can I find
A true friend of thy kind
Taking my heart behind? .
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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My little book
blind as I was, deaf as my friend yet! have
gone as furthest as the universe, I thought
that was only a great dream of my past
laughing me seems to easy, for once I was
a little child is always a child, it was the day
where my father and mother hold me so tight,
closing my bulging eyes as they read, telling
some fabulous stories and then gradually falls
my attentive ears down to my sight and there
no more
all comes to meet my fantastic imagination,
making my childhood memories filled it all, with
what is all remembered is not what it makes, for
what ever is heard now has gone as it is done
books tells me different stories, that relates my
ways, for I taste of what is the past and today, simply
I know that hearing is not reading and reading is
always remembering
my little book paved me the way that in my little
room I will be free....read and read and read...the
only way to visit and see, of what is yesterday for
the future belongs today.....and reading always
become part of me
poem by Antonio Liao
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Y.. Poetry and History
Tired at night, I went to sleep
I slept tremendously deep
I slept a very long time
I woke up in October of 2110
and some history books of then
were laying in that room of mine
How exciting it was, how queer
to read the history of the coming years
I was in for quite a surprise
The heroes of the 2011 history books
were labelled as what they were, just crooks
Heroes in 2110 were nobody else than the wise
There were some wise people, so clever
who brought to us kindness and wisdom forever
these were the heroes of 2110
Among the heroes, prophets and thinkers were found
poets of wisdom, their names all around
Sages and wise ones from way back,2010
In 2110, from what I could read
there was no longer hunger, no more greed
thanks to the poets sharing wonderful words
I prayed to go back to the time when I had started to sleep
I wanted to share that news, so good, so profound and deep
I was happy to wake up in the now, my prayers were heard
So here I share the wonderful news at last
That greed and hunger will soon be a thing of the past
it all 'll have started in 2012 during spring
History books of the future mention a kindness revolution
Starting in May 2012, affecting all subsequent evolution
Isn't that a wonderful thing?
poem by Aufie Zophy
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Horoscope
At one time, I used to read
my horoscope every day,
just to see what the stars
had in store for me.
It always seemed that
they were writing
about someone who wasn’t me.
The things they said were going to happen
and the dates they gave all went by,
but nothing ever happened.
They even asked those who wrote it,
did we get it right?
It made me wonder if they knew
what they were doing
or was it just one big sham.
I got tired of reading them
and now only do it for a laugh,
because whatever they say
is never going to come true.
Well, at least not for me.
Therefore, if you read your horoscope
and read religiously
just take it with a pinch of salt
is the advice I give to thee.
No one can predict
what will happen just to you.
Now I just like the mystery
that each new day brings
and it is much more fun that way.
19 January 2008
poem by David Harris
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Witnesses
Without rests, the anti-Semites
work day and night
to let us forget
'The Final Solution',
'Night of Broken Glass',
'The Sacrificed by Fire'.
The Chosen always hated
but before the Nazis took power
lives were as usual.
It can happen again,
if we don't teach it in the schools.
It can happen again,
if we don't preach it from the pulpit.
It can happen again,
if we don't sing it on the choir.
It can happen again,
if we don't let history
bust anti-Semites heads
when we go global.
How can a people
who give so much
suffer so much?
People of conscience are witnesses;
we will blind them with the truth.
We will speak from the heap.
We are Christians and Jews,
ignorance will not divide us.
It will not happen again,
again,
again,
again.
poem by Buxton Shippy
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