The ugly human face
Wailing with tears and
Helplessly in commotion,
All of you’re telling to write
The history of hatred, enmity, killings,
The history of human ugly face.
My pen is dried up,
Tell me in which medium,
And language should I write.
Where to begin and
Where to end
Such history of human ugly face.
Oh! Betrayer
You’re telling me to wipe out from the history
Of such human ugly face,
That shattered and shook human conscience,
That haunts the face of those innocent people,
Killed and hurt; widows and orphans.
That hums: that reminds.
Telling me just to close my eyes.
But I’m not blind.
Telling me not to speak,
But I’m not dumb.
Telling me not to write the truth,
But I cannot write anything but the truth.
How can I deceive the history where I belong?
Human memory is short,
Tears would dry up,
The blood would be washed away with time
But the silent words, written in the heart of each human ugly face
Imbedded forever and immortal.
Let me dip the pen in the smeared blood,
The blood of all religions, caste, creed and colour, poor and rich,
The thick blood of those innocent persons.
poem by Dr.bhagya Chandra Rajkumar
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Related quotes
The Winners Write The History
That the winners write the war histories should not be the case
For war is a tragedy a human disgrace
And the losers in war see their Country destoyed
And the war history never written by the losing side.
Look at Oliver Cromwell victorious in war
The deeds of his glory from England known far
But those who write on Cromwell they never do tell
Of one who for poor people made life Earthly hell.
To the Catholics of Ireland Cromwell was a brute
The poor rural peasants he did persecute
Yet streets in his honour distant from England today
The winners only write the history so true what they say.
Efrain Rios Montt became President of Guatemala even though he
Was guilty of serious crimes against humanity
An old man now but for his crimes yet to pay
The winners write the history it's always been that way.
Augusto Pinochet in Chile has blood on his hands
And that he may die a free man seems hard to understand
And though loathed by many in Chile for his crimes of shame
The winners write the history and their's is the fame.
I've just mentioned a few for there are many more
Who have committed crimes against humanity but like it has been said before
that the winners write the history and that's how 'twill remain
And the mistakes of the past are repeated again.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Ugly Truth About Her
ITS TIME TO FACE THE UGLY TRUTH ABOUT HER
SHE'S STRONG SHE'S WILLING BUT SHE'S NOT UNDERSTANDING
ITS TIME TO FAE THE UGLY TRUTH ABOUT HER
SHE WILL MAKE YOU LAUGH SHE WILL MAKE YOU CRY BUT ALSO WATCH YOU DIE
ITS TIME TO FACE THE UGLY TRUTH ABOUT HER
SHE WILL BE THERE FOR YOU BUT SHE WILL NOT ALWAYS BE TRUE
ITS TIME TO FACE THE UGLY TRUTH ABOUT HER
SHE'S DETERMINED SHE'S A WINNER BUT REGARD YOU AS A LONER
IT'S TIME TO FACE THE UGLY TRUTH ABOUT HER
SHE MY FRIEND IS THE REASON WHY YOU ARE HURT INSIDE
AND SHE'S THE ONE WHO PROMISED TO BE ON YOUR SIDE
THIS IS THE UGLY TRUTH ABOUT HER
poem by Gerry Mark
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Tales of my past
Don't write me down in history,
In reference to my past deeds,
Works I derived no joy from,
Or mistakes of those years.
Don't write me down in history,
The ages gone show little of what I am,
That part of me is truly done,
My dreams now can say it all.
Don't write me down in history,
The lessons of life flows in my blood,
My blunders are now my teachers,
The scars now my daily pledge.
Don't write me down in history,
I am yet to achieve perfection,
Still I strive for redemption,
Searching the soil for my lost glory,
Don't write me down in history,
The tales of my past I recall,
That was then, this is me,
Woes to your judgment.
poem by Venessa Ambrose
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Human
Come on, baby, dry your eyes
Wipe your tears
Never like to see you cry
Wont you please forgive me ?
I wouldnt ever try to hurt you
I just needed someone to hold me
To fill the void while you were gone
To fill this space of emptiness
Im only human
Of flesh and blood Im made
Human
Born to make mistakes
So many nights I longed to hold you
So many times I looked and saw your face
Nothing could change the way I feel
No-one else could ever take your place
Im only human
Of flesh and blood Im made
Human
Born to make mistakes
I am just a man
Please forgive me
The tears I cry arent tears of pain
Theyre only to hide my guilt and shame
I forgive you now I ask the same of you
While we were apart I was human too
Im only human
Of flesh and blood Im made
I am just a man
Human
Born to make mistakes
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Written In Red!
Pages of history of man kind
Are written red,
Those who thought their blood,
As blue as sky or as blue as deep ocean,
Wrote the pages in Red and every page is full of bloodshed!
Hungry people weep for even glass of water,
And even for that they had blood to shed,
Innocent plants or innocent grass die,
When two elephants fight for supremacy!
They never care how many innocent may die!
Great heroes are made on the number of men they despatch to hell,
Saying patriots have heaven in their fight!
They are heroes like matadors at the cost of blood of an innocent bull!
Otherwise they are as you and me except that cruelty,
Men the made several men to shed blood, in the name of woman,
May it be sita, may it be Padmini
Or may be Helen of Troy,
All men were treated like toys
By a that a few mad boys,
To have their woman back,
Or defend their action,
All religions have their history written in red,
May it be books that are from God,
Stained with red, God signed it with blood,
Put the rubber stamp of quality with bone and flesh,
Every nation is having its own fountain of blood shed!
power hungry need only to shed crocodile tears,
Or just present awards and reward,
Those who safeguard
and died to save them!
May it be Ashoka, may it be Idi Ameen
or may be Churchil, or may be Gandhi,
Or may Lincoln or Changez Khan
Only they were famous due blood shed!
May it be history of continent or that sub continent
Only a story written in blood, On human skin and with bones as pens!
May it be any ' -ism ' or may
Politics in spain or Britain,
Equally dangerous are these..
Power or woman,
Ambition or nation,
Whether terrorist or counter terrorist venture
Police or politician,
Every history of massive wealth,
Or a piece of land
Religion or culture, blood is That red ink with pages of history is written only in red!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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With Each Memory Drained
With each memory drained
I feel better
I write another letter
But never the same
Not as I once was
If only because
The loss of love matters not that much
I keep telling myself
What was her name
I think I already forgot.
A remembrance that matters not
Is it really the now that you got?
Grab hold
Squeeze till it never stops
Like a heart dieing
I must try harder, harder
With each memory drained
I feel better
I write another letter
But never the same
Not as I once was
If only because
The loss of love matters not that much
I keep telling myself
What did her face look like
Another one erased
I am walking backwards
Picking myself apart
Digging and searching
So maybe these feelings
Will just fade
With each memory drained
I feel better
I write another letter
But never the same
Not as I once was
If only because
The loss of love matters not that much
I keep telling myself
As I touched her only the way a man could ever know
What were the sounds
The moans, the whispers
In the dark
I must make it blank
Wipe the slate clean
But it just seems mean
With each memory drained
I feel better
I write another letter
But never the same
Not as I once was
If only because
The loss of love matters not that much
I keep telling myself
Where was it we first met
In the summer yet
If only I could just forget
I must be stronger
I must not hold on any longer
Like an obsession it just won't die
With each memory drained
I feel better
I write another letter
But never the same
Not as I once was
If only because
The loss of love matters not that much
I keep telling myself
What was the first kiss
What was the first taste
With such a sweet embrace
This is something I just no longer want relive
I gave it all I have give
Still suffering.
With each memory drained
I feel better
I write another letter
But never the same
Not as I once was
If only because
The loss of love matters not that much
I keep telling myself
The muffled sounds of a fight
Screams and shouts brought to the light
Just dim it all out
Absolutely nothingness
A void I must become
With a sadness that must be unknown
With each memory drained
I feel better
I write another letter
But never the same
Not as I once was
If only because
The loss of love matters not that much
I keep telling myself
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Avoiding History
avoiding history is a family tradition,
draft dodging, missing wars, as far
back as my fathers go, I find
no soldiers, no warriors and also
no lovers. we don't write
in my family, we withdraw
our stories on objection, stop
telling them. we keep secrets.
I keep my own secrets and rarely
tell them, keep my truth
from coming back to hurt me.
I learn slowly but I learn well,
to keep my secrets, avoid history.
I avoided history by protesting war
and by refusing to marry.
I learned late, but I learned well.
your eyes tell your history, your belly,
in its soft geography, hints at mine.
I don't enlist, I avoid being drafted,
my bridges burn behind me.
I read history in the slope of her breasts,
her silence uses me in my telling.
I have many ways to lie,
using a sharp knife to separate
flesh from nerve, bone and tendon.
how many times have I undressed you,
hearing you tell me that I don't care
about anything, until you turn
away from me, turn on me, turn
to stone. I turn you over, exploring
history in the cleft of your ass,
touching with my hands but never
touching you, feeling alone finally,
shedding uniforms and telling stories.
lies return in the secrets I keep, hints
I cover with long explanations.
you come to me, naked, asking questions
and feel betrayed, telling me finally
that I don't matter and never
was real to you. I tell you
I was a soldier, that I fought,
and you lie to me by undressing yourself,
nakedness concealing your aims.
I read history in the curve of your thighs,
my tongue seeking your skin, seeking
you in your skin, tasting
beneath your skin. I find
your secrets, I tell your history
and turn my back to you. in sleep,
you back away, waking,
you dismiss me and I write a secret
history, full of lies and silences.
poem by Jesse Weiner
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Stars Dont Know My Fate
Tonight I make history
and one day history will find me
and haunt me...even write me
in the pages of immortality
and will never be forgotten
as the wind.
Tonight I face history
and one day history will face me
and mock me...even write me
in the pages of uncertainties
but will never be forgotten
as the wind.
Tonight- I end my life...
I change my history, I make my destiny
for stars don't know my fate.
And one day, maybe one day
this night would be forgotten,
carried by the wind.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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Race
Lie down, [fair 1//pheromone], and come away
Till the rain is over and gone
G-g-gimme the beat now (face the music)
Lead line (face the music)
If the air is a little thick in this room 2nite
I reckon its the result of an onslaught of separatist rookies
Overcome by this colorful sight
Talkin so fast that even they
Talkin so fast that even they
Dont know what they mean
Of all the things that base a rhyme
How is it that u everytime
Regurgitate the racist lines that keep us apart?
Thank God this aint monopoly
Ud make us all go back 2 start
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
I gotcha
Race
Race
Check it
Three seats over theres a lady black
Entrusted 2 her care is a little white girl
And the fact of the matter is
Before her momma or another kid at school
Tells her about the fallacy that 1 race rules over the other
Shed be a much-better-off-left fool (face the music)
If we never heard about the evils that those before us committed
Then how my dear, tell me now how my dear, tell me now how now would we know
And then the band say
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
I gotcha
Race
Race
(face the music)
D-d-down with h-i-s-t-o-r-y and all this bs propagandi
Keepin u from me and me from u as we grow
I dont wanna know (I dont wanna know)
Why those before us hated each other
Id rather believe they never did
Id rather believe (Id rather, Id rather believe)
That theres hope 4 a kid
And if he imitates the best
I guess thats what Ill try 2 be
And I will let the rest dissolve with my guitar underneath the sea
Race
(face face face face face)
Face the music (face the music)
Face the music
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
Get it?
Race
Got it
Race
Face the music
Race race
(face face face the music)
Race race
(face face face the music)
Race race
Race race
(face-f-face the music)
Race
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The History Of You And Me
Everytime you think of me.
Write it all down in your diary.
And never forget you were mine.
'Cause you can write a book about love.
And you can write a book about history.
The history of you and me..
On every page that you write.
Move your pen, with those old memories of me.
Holding me in your arms.
'Cause you can write a book about love.
And you can write a book about history.
The history of you and me..
Try not to miss a word.
Don't miss a single word, about those old romantic nights.
The nights you spent with me.
'Cause you can write a book about love.
And you can write a book about history.
The history of you and me..
Yaahh! The history of you and me....
Love Song Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1990,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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Not because we are friends
Not because we are friends then I will
Be dishonest, calling a spade a diamond,
I don’t work that way, ugly is ugly
Pretty is pretty, and bad is bad and
Good is good to me, no matter what,
And you show me your face with a
New haircut, and ask me if you look
Good, and I say, you look the other
Way around, is the barber still alive?
Then you show me your poem that you
Wrote last night, and you ask me
What do you think? I think it is
I take a look, read a while and
Twitch my face many times than usual
Garbage, throw it in the wastebasket
And you say I am cruel, I am inconsi-
Derate about how you feel. I am
Telling you, you are my friend and
We are friends because we are honest.
Why not try writing another one again?
I will not teach you though, I write so
Bad myself, feeling so bad, but I will not stop
Being myself & be my harshest critique
I bought another trashcan, bigger this time.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Do You Still Call Me Brother? ?
Brother, so you call me
when your hands are red with blood
whiskers resembles those of vampires, ,
in the dark silent of the night
portraying me like a devil on the cross
am i still your brother?
when without without change in temperature and without any love lost
you ran away from me
..telling your fellow conspirators how i am bad
or is it a better deal you have found
and brother you still call me
when you have led me to believe
that the exposure of your ugly fangs
is a smile, , to be with me
when you have wanted to swallow me alive
brother, ,
is my success you cant stand?
or is it a question for the Lord
why it has not been you
when my star is shining?
..and you still call me call me brother
perfect i know i am not
and nobody is perfect didn't they say that?
i have my human flaws
but should the whole be informed?
courtesy of your generosity
in information about me
and you still part my shoulder
..brother you call me
when my nudity you have exposed?
my GOD is not a human being
to be influenced by the conspiracies theories about me
my blessings shall continue to roar
from all directions of the wind
my calabash shall be filled
and i will soon kiss the clouds
unlike you my brother I
will hold your hand until fate smiles at you
will cover your nakedness until the end of time
will wipe the sweat dripping from your rigid face
..my smile will come from the heart
and i will rejoice in your every success
until the end of time
so it shall remain......
brothers.....
poem by Ole Kuyioni Josphat
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Eyes Without A Face
I'm all out of hope. One more bad break could bring a fall.
When I'm far from home don't call me on the phone to tell me you're alone
It's easy to deceive. It's easy to tease. But hard to get release.
(Les yeux sans visage) Eyes without a face.
(Les yeux sans visage) Eyes without a face.
(Les yeux sans visage) Eyes without a face.
Got no human grace your eyes without a face.
I spend so much time believing all the lies to keep the dream alive.
Now it makes me sad. It makes me mad at truth for lovin' what was you.
(Les yeux sans visage) Eyes without a face.
(Les yeux sans visage) Eyes without a face.
(Les yeux sans visage) Your eyes without a face.
Got no human grace your eyes without a face.
(Les yeux sans visage) Eyes without a face.
(Les yeux sans visage) Eyes without a face.
(Les yeux sans visage) Your eyes without a face.
Got no human grace your eyes without a face.
Such a human waste your eyes without a face.
And now it's getting worse. Yeah.
song performed by by Scooter from Encore (Live & Direct)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Divine Image
Cruelty has a human heart,
And Jealousy a human face;
Terror the human form divine,
And Secrecy the human dress.
The human dress is forged iron,
The human form a fiery forge,
The human face a furnace sealed,
The human heart its hungry gorge.
poem by William Blake
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Song About The Moon
If you want to write a song about the moon
Walk along the craters of the afternoon
When the shadows are deep
And the light is alien
And gravity leaps like a knife off the pavement
And you want to write a song about the moon
You want to write a spiritual tune
Then nah nah nah
Presto
Song about about the moon
If you want to write a song about the heart
Think about the moon before you start
Because the heart will howl
Like a dog in the moonlight
And the heart can explode
Like a pistol on a june night
So if you want to write a song about the heart
And its ever-longing for a counterpart
Write a song about the moon
The laughing boy
He laughed so hard
He fell down from his place
The laughing girl
She laughed so hard
The tears rolled down her face
Hey songwriter
If you want to write a song about
A face
Think about a photograph
That you really cant remember
But you cant erase
Wash your hands in dreams and lightning
Cut off your hair
And whatever is frightening
If you want to write a song
About a face
If you want to write a song about
The human race
Write a song about the moon
If you want to write a song about the moon
You want to write a spiritual tune
Then do it
Write a song about the moon
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We are at a major epoch in human history, which is that we don't need sex to recreate the race. You can have babies without sex. This is the first time in human history that has been true, and it means, for example, we could do some extraordinary things.
quote by David Cronenberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is clear that this essential Christian doctrine gives a new value to human nature, to human history and to human life which is not to be found in the other great oriental religions.
quote by Christopher Dawson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cried for Hours
I cried for hours
It was no fault of theirs
They lost the precious lives
My eyes could not believe
How all of sudden man can go wild
Sudden change of turning blind
What would happen to this holy land?
Where foes may act cruel but as friend
Why I should blame the luck?
On simple way I have been struck
I find no hope of survival
It is apparently seen as terror’s arrival
Many lie shattered in pool of blood
All have come here in search of food
They are met with tragic death
We may lament the attack and lay the wreath
I feel like crying further
No option is open and more to bother
Life is totally uncertain
What steps are to be taken to contain?
Many more may be bleeding in streets?
There may be no one to greet
What a pity on human lives?
They have become cheap to knives
Even animals strike only once
They test human blood out of threatened stance
Here human being is hungry of human blood
I try to shed tears for no good
I may pray almighty to give them little sense
Stop all innocent killings and nonsense
It may do no good to humanity as well
There won’t be any body left to tell
We may depart at inappropriate time
Assassin’s bullet may pierce through some times
What will be left behind except painful cry?
All responsible persons should gather strength and ask why
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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History Will Teach Us Nothing
If we seek solace in the prisons of the distant past
Security in human systems were told will always always last
Emotions are the sail and blind faith is the mast
Without a breath of real freedom were getting nowhere fast
If God is dead and an actor plays his part
His words of fear will find their way to a place in your heart
Without the voice of reason every faith is its own curse
Without freedom from the past things can only get worse
Sooner or later just like the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later just like the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
History will teach us nothing
History will teach us nothing
Our written history is a catalogue of crime
The sordid and the powerful, the architects of time
The mother of invention, the oppression of the mild
The constant fear of scarcity, aggression as its child
Sooner or later
Sooner or later
Sooner or later
Sooner or later
Convince an enemy, convince him that hes wrong
Is to win a bloodless battle where victory is long
A simple act of faith
In reason over might
To blow up his children will only prove him right
History will teach us nothing
Sooner or later the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
History will teach us nothing
History will teach us nothing
Know you human rights
Be what you come here for
Know your human rights
Be what you come here for
Know your human rights
Be what you come here for
Know your human rights
Be what you come here for
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tainted Water!
snowfall...
words spoken without talking.
history written on drawn faces.
eyes that speak the language
of hunger, ears that feel,
feet that find their way!
we have long been
a people lost in search,
buying religious tokens,
spreading political balm.
we've lost the gift
of understanding silence...
we rattle like bones
in need of flesh!
snowfall...
stillness bridges the moment.
face to face with
light and shadow...
and the forever taste of blood,
blood floating on tainted water!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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