Pitfalls of the Search
the mosaic of history,
too many missing pieces
unexplained,
too many labyrinths and cul de sacs
hindsight,
no less a hazy scene,
a mirage, a maze,
full of ghosts, phantoms and boasts,
learning from
blurred foggy events,
misted and distorted
full of ego reported,
,
slanted and transplanted
how is one to sift the true
from the false,
discern fact from faith
story saga, myth, legend and fable
told and retold in rhetoric so able
emotions and of drama
poetic and prose
relates and unreels
the history of what was
or might have been
let us assume
nothing, or much less
was true, accurate or complete
poem by Shimon Weinroth

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Napoleonic Fable
A fable that’s agreed upon
according to Napoleon
is what we should call history,
but ascribe its mystery
to recollections that are wrong
of brief events stretched into long,
in contrast to the brief report
that should, like our own lives, be short.
About this poem’s serious moral
A good historian would not quarrel:
Your history, if you are able
to write it up, is just a fable.
Napoleon once asked rhetorically: “What is history but a fable that is agreed upon? ”
1/3/10
poem by Gershon Hepner

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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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Spin Doctors for friend alex
In days of yore long, long before
the spoken word took written form.
The Bards, the guardians of the lore.
In Great Men’s halls they would perform.
Their epic tales from history
to entertain the listening host.
With tales of war and mystery
and heroes which their race could boast.
Each teller added something to,
adjusted what they had been told.
By teachers who had altered too
the ancient tales they had retold.
Each myth and legend seems to be
a twisted version of some tale.
Which was quite true originally
Our search for truth is doomed to fail.
There’s little evidence to find.
Although we can extrapolate
from different versions left behind.
These fragments we appreciate.
Contain some truth enwrapt in lies,
Driven by curiosity
embark upon an enterprise,
The ultimate futility.
Though we can guess, we cannot know.
Our theories could be correct
Events which happened long ago
change with each telling I suspect.
03/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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One's life story cannot be told with complete veracity. A true autobiography would have to be written in states of mind, emotions, heartbeats, smiles and tears not in months and years, or physical events. Life is marked off on the soul by feelings, not by dates.
quote by Helen Keller

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is in a language?
Language carries in it the history of a people
The history that begins way before
The conception of that particular language
Every myth, idiom, or story told carries
In it the memories of an ancient infancy
Of a development that comes in stages
As that of a child crawling, walking
Developing a thought, a philosophy
Creating poetry and song
What is in a language is not just relevant
To the people that use it, but it is also relevant
To the entire community of languages
Like the fragments of a great puzzle
Every language has in it the bits and pieces
Lessons to be learned; things significant
To the history of mankind, things significant
To the growth and development of all
poem by LLM Mbatha

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My History,
My History,
My History was not favourable,
Since the older knew all,
In the morning deceived,
In the evening,
Grabbing all that is mine,
My story was not that good,
It was full of blasphemies and lies from relatives,
From my kith’s,
I wonder when the sword will fall upon Humanity,
Honesty is dyeing,
Words are easy spoken,
But truth is hardly done,
It is hardly seen from these people,
Never tell me that truth is complete on earthly dwelling.
poem by Maxpoet Beauty

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Idriss
News items are obtained from eyewitnesses,
But i am the eyewitness on this love;
So come and show me your true love, Idriss.
To tell the story like it is and,
To love you with all my heart;
So Idriss, come and show me your true love.
Of the present event full of history and,
Of the true love that we have to share;
Come! And do not be a by-stander on this love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Black people don't have an accurate idea of their history, which has been either suppressed or distorted.
quote by Kareem Abdul-Jabbar

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Neurotic
cause it moves just like you
And it breaks just like me
And it lies just like them
And these walls are protecting me
And so the story goes
Strip down its the same
And so the story goes
In a blink of an eye you become history
cause it plays just like you
And it fades just like me
And it steals just like them
Its neverending its neverending for me
And so the story goes
Strip down its the same
And so the story goes
In a blink of an eye you become history
I put my blinding faith in you
My philosophy says I should stop
And so the story goes
Strip down its the same
And so the story goes
In a blink of an eye you become history
song performed by by Unloco

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Saga
Undefined future
untold story
unheard pain
uprooted feet
unsung glory.
Relived past
retold story
renamed word
past, present and future
all blurred.
Time changes
with a new world’s worth,
century unfolds
with a new mirth.
Woman, thy name
and saga remains the same.
Copyright©2011Rizvana Parveen
poem by Rizvana Parveen

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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 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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Moonlake Ghosts
There’s a lake off of Moon Lake Road,
where stories are woven and retold.
about longtime gangster Al Capone.
Now I stayed in a house
right across the street,
and believe me I did not see,
but I heard a ghost talk to me.
See now legend has it,
that Al put people in this lake,
Now ghosts are around make no mistake.
I was in this house with Uncle Lenny,
he wasn’t scared for he couldn’t
hear a dropp of a penny.
He told me the ghosts leave him alone,
for they know he's handicapped
unlike his nephew Tone.
Yes, Tony said he heard them too,
I don’t know if he’s lying
or what he says is true.
All I know I don’t want to go back,
you can laugh at me and call me a quack.
I’ld rather see a ghost
then have one move my stuff,
that is scary and this I can't rebuff,
It’s not like eating at Denny’s
and having a lunch,
I believe in ghosts with an
absolute hunch.
Written by Christina Sunrise Feb.21,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier

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Although this is a fictitious story the history is real. You don't want to re-write history but you certainly want to portray events and characters as realistically as you can.
quote by James D'arcy

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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History!
Spoken words are history
Records of some remain a mystery
And when today and tomorrow
Row bitterly over yesterday
Today will become history
With just an empty space
Enlightened by a darkened face
History reminds me of a repetition of events
Dancing to the rhythm of the same kind of achievements
A battle is won or lost
Every love or hatred will eventually be buried in dust
I love you
You love me
Soon our love goes down in history
Someone else will find love a new discovery
So the theory behind is history
Is to have a story that commands all glory
For the inevitable past that will last!
poem by Sylvia Chidi

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Nothing which is true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; therefore we must be saved by faith.
quote by Reinhold Niebuhr

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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2 Pieces Of Drama
2 pieces of drama
The hammer's bout' to fall
2 pieces of drama
there's gunplay in the hall
2 pieces of drama
Make peace with your momma, the consequence is dire
2 pieces of drama
Boy you know not to play with fire
He rocks a big ??? caber
A ping pong table for a ring
He's mentally unstable
To him murder it ain't no thing
He'll do you dirty style
He's holding dirty bile
He's out pumping on the corner
Trying to stay warm
And keep it cool like Miles
He keeps it fundamental
He's got the jeans and the bubblegoose on
There's murder on his mental
He's got the deuce deuce in his palm
And y'all know the fable
How cain did able
Ever since the beginning
The world keeps pinning just like a turntable
2 pieces of drama
The hammer's bout' to fall
2 pieces of drama
there's gunplay in the hall
2 pieces of drama
Make peace with your momma, the consequence is dire
2 pieces of drama
Boy you know not to play with fire
La la la la la la la la (B Real Hand on the Pump sample)
When it's selling out back
Likes to pump crack
To the fiends that be getting high
He keeps his hand on the pump
He's ready to dump
On any chump that would even try
He got a finger on the trigger
He ain't scared to pull it
Head full of liquor
Boy you might catch a bullet
They're holes in stable
Drugs on the table
Everybody's sitting round
Watching cops on the cable
Dressed like a slob
Keeps his hair braided
He's never been robbed,
He's only been raided.
He's never known joy
The boy is so jaded
He's never been loved
He's only been hated
His soul's on ice
His heart is stone
Just another dead king
Rotting on his throne
With a pain that would
Cut you down to the bone
You're born alone
Boy you die alone
2 pieces of drama
The hammer's bout' to fall
2 pieces of drama
there's gunplay in the hall
2 pieces of drama
Make peace with your momma, the consequence is dire
2 pieces of drama
Boy you know not to play with fire x2
song performed by by Everlast

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ghosts By Moon Lake
There's a lake off of Moon Lake Road,
where stories are woven and retold.
about longtime gangster Al Capone.
Now I stayed in a house
right across the street,
and believe me I did not see,
but I heard a ghost talk to me.
See now legend has it,
that Al put people in this lake,
Now ghosts are around make no mistake.
I was in this house with Uncle Lenny,
he wasn't scared for he couldn't
hear a dropp of a penny.
He told me the ghosts leave him alone,
for they know he's handicapped
unlike his nephew Tone.
Yes, Tony said he heard them too,
I don't know if he's lying
or what he says is true.
All I know I don't want to go back,
you can laugh at me and call me a quack.
I'ld rather see a ghost
then have one move my stuff,
that is scary and this I can't rebuff,
It's not like eating at Denny's
and having a lunch,
I believe in ghosts with an
absolute hunch.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on Feb.21,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier

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Ghosts By Moon Lake
There’s a lake off of Moon Lake Road,
where stories are woven and retold.
about longtime gangster Al Capone.
Now I stayed in a house
right across the street,
and believe me I did not see,
but I heard a ghost talk to me.
See now legend has it,
that Al put people in this lake,
Now ghosts are around make no mistake.
I was in this house with Uncle Lenny,
he wasn’t scared for he couldn’t
hear a dropp of a penny.
He told me the ghosts leave him alone,
for they know he's handicapped
unlike his nephew Tone.
Yes, Tony said he heard them too,
I don’t know if he’s lying
or what he says is true.
All I know I don’t want to go back,
you can laugh at me and call me a quack.
I’ld rather see a ghost
then have one move my stuff,
that is scary and this I can't rebuff,
It’s not like eating at Denny’s
and having a lunch,
I believe in ghosts with an
absolute hunch.
Written by Christina Sunrise Feb.21,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise

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You Tell Me Of Your Australian History
You tell me of your Australian history your ancestors were British and Irish pioneers
But your history in this Land is not an old history just two centuries and twenty years
And in time that may seem quite a long span though the combined life spans of three people nothing more
Your ancestors hardly were Aussies they came here from a distant shore.
The first Australians have lived in this Country for longer than most care to know
Their ancestors came here from Asia more than sixty thousand years ago
They are indigenous to this Country all others have links to elsewhere
Yet they still struggle for recognition and that to me seems quite unfair.
Dispossessed by the Northern invaders they never did get back their Land
And that they are now ruled by white people I find that hard to understand
You talk of the history of this Land as if it were only two hundred years old
But then suppose the history of the ancient Dreamtime by white people will never be told.
I was not even born in this Country which makes you more Aussie than I
And though I'm not Nationalistic or Patriotic my heritage I won''t deny
You talk of your pioneering ancestors but why talk of Human history at all
If the history of the first Australians you do not see fit to recall.
You tell me of your pioneering ancestors but one fact you tend to ignore
That they were not born in this Country they came here from a foreign shore
You''d swear by you the Human history of this Land was only two centuries old
But the true history of this great Country by your type will never be told
poem by Francis Duggan

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