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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Related quotes
Rochester Cathedral 2005
Pass by this ancient door and pause
Look upon it very history etched in stone
Wonder at its age and all who stood,
As you are standing now, looking.
The good and great of history
Have passed its portals just like you
Kings and Queens of every age
Have worshiped here, the Christ King.
Sit, be still, as voices young and old
Raise in perfect sound, the alleluia’s
To echo round the vaulted heights.
Kneel and pray as others have
So many times before through history
Evidence of the living God worshiped still.
Here Justus placed his knee in prayer
When all was daub and wattle
The imprint of history remains however
A time line of experience, and calling.
Today its mission written large in stone
To worship the alpha and omega
We see its beginnings, its end?
Is always in the future, waiting.
poem by James Tipp
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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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How Long
climb on top of all you despise
it's a better view from the lies
two steps behind before I've begun
time stops to tell me all I could have done
and I'll say
how long till the word will be completed
how many times will history repeat it
how long will it take
how long
how long
I want to go
will you show me the way
I'd rather be wrong than be deceived
to thinking that I believe
that I can stand to be here on my own
there's too many questions that we won't ask
in hopes that this too will pass
but how far down do we have to go before we know it
how long till the word will be completed
how many times will history repeat it
how long will it take
how long
how long
I want to go
will you show me the way
how long
how long
how long will it take
how long
how long
how long
I want to go
will you show me the way
how long
how long
how long will it take
how long till the word will be completed
how many times will history repeat it
how long till the words fall to the pages
how many times till all we can say is save us
song performed by by Lifehouse
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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~ His[s]tory ~
History Maker ~ Fossilized Custodian
History Breaker ~ Reckless Bohemian
History Reformer ~ Abortive Artisan
History Seeker ~ Obsessive Varifocalian
History Writer ~ Hyperbolic Historian
History Critique ~ Diplomatic Confucian
History Reader ~ Befuddled Bookman.
Better Opt For ~ Gymnastic Geography
Enjoy Floor Exercise ~ In Poetry.
Won’t You?
If Not Check Cervical Spine
For Etiology Of Vertigo Sign.
==
Glossary: Humbly given for what I tried to express: ~
Varifocalian: Metaphorically used relating to a lens that is graduated to permit any length of vision between near and distant.
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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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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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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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 Of Tomorrow
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of light
By dumping us in the dark with pits everywhere
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of food
By asking us to chop several fire-woods to heat up a pot full of stones
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of job creation
By making us slaves on our own soil
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of education
By dumping us in dilapidated buildings without teachers
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of accountability
By looting our treasury and asking us for yet another term in office
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of safety
By leaving pot holes large enough to swallow countless accident victims on our roads
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our bows and arrows
Would secure our future
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of a country, a country with countless heroes
It’s the history of a country, a country with countless robbers
Robbers with fame
Robbers without shame
Robbers that we would roast with flame
© Adegbenro Adekunle Jacob
Tomorrow’s history is today. All world leaders must make real democracy work. They must be selfless. We must not wait until there is horror and terror before we learn. Nigerian leaders must shun CORRUPTION.
poem by Adegbenro Adekunle
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History Lessons
Notoriously, history books are warm
and bland.
This one is smaller, neatly compacting
years into large print pages.
Somehow, the near coverless book
reappeared from the long, dim
Nun's library, dug up, specifically for
a reprisal of the 1918 Influenza Revisited.
It was a custom to pass out last editions.
A clear out of the aging history Teacher's
Library section.
An acknowledgement of the past
pressed onto a pupil for a masked honor.
Smells of old lockers, chesty
coughs, and fatigue. So many class
smiles and collective ease.
The book holds the marks of many
boys' notes, hen-pecked bits of scratch paper.
History written within history.
poem by Mary Anderson
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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 Rest Is History
Saw you across the room
Felt somethin stir inside my soul
Knew Id never be the same
Now that love had taken hold
Then when you touched me
There was no doubt
You unterstood what my heart was all about
And the rest is history
The story of you and me
For all eternity
The record will show
Well fill up the pages
Romance for the ages
There for the world to see
The rest ist history
Before we spoke a word
My heart told me you were the one
When you pressed your hand to mine
I knew my life had just begun
Like some old movie
Music filled the night
Lost held each other tight.
And the rest is history
The story of you and me
For all eternity
The record will show
Well fill up the pages
Romance for the ages
There for the world to see
The rest ist history
And the rest is history
The story of you and me
For all eternity
The record will show
Well fill up the pages
Romance for the ages
There for the world to see
The rest ist history
History ...
The rest is history.
The rest is history.
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
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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War Is Our Worlds History
I Look into a history book.
And what do I see?
Pain and agony, death and suffering,
I see history that tells a lot about our world.
War!
Our world's history is war.
It is the pain and agony, the death and the suffering,
I see large fields of dead bodies,
I see our heritage being destroyed by other people
because it is not what they believe in,
I see people begging for mercy, but they do not get it
instead they get a bullet in the head.
In our history I see many mistakes in which we can learn from,
but we obviously we do not.
They say not to judge a book by its cover,
to me this quote means nothing to our history.
Our history is our cover,
and the book is filled with pain and agony, death and suffering.
Plain and Simple
War!
poem by Christian Cervantes
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Soul Control
I surrender long ago
And I have been waiting
For you to take control
Your words are etched
In history
Incomplete instructions
For us to see
Cut like a knife
Through eternity
At my soul
If I only knew how to believe
Or is all of history
Just make believe
Oh why did you
Have to involve me
When do you plan on
Taking control of my soul
Until then could you please
Have your angels do
A little soul patrol
A little soul patrol
Until you take
Complete control
Of my soul
For eternity
poem by Brian Kilpatrick
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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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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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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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We Affect Forever
We Affect Forever
We are making history, through every day we spend.
We are here, leaving our mark, a mark that will not end.
Others before have left behind this world we now obtain.
Though it’s changed since way back when, the old shall always remain.
History is how we got here, history is who we are.
History is what led to this, yes history is not far.
It remains within our families, its tradition and unchanging ways.
It’s Christmas day, Thanksgiving, its countless nights and days.
History is what you’re becoming; it’s what you are soon to be.
And history never dies; it’s a part of everybody.
We fight to maintain who we are, to maintain who we’ve always been.
And while we fight we know this fight is not easy to win.
Many forget the past, and many never even know,
Many people never hear of how times were long ago.
Those thousands of years before us, are more than just time spent.
They are filled with real people, real feelings, and real places that they went.
The People had different life styles very different from our ways,
But it is true that there is nothing knew under the sun’s golden rays.
Stand proud to be alive, know you affect forever.
Every act that we commit we all commit together.
We are entrusted with this earth; we must love and cherish this life.
We must remember to love our existence lest love becomes our strife.
Yes we are becoming history, through every move we make.
We are here, leaving our mark, a mark ……or perhaps a mistake.
poem by Mary Murphy
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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 ''