Tye
I was once a great queen of Egypt,
Though I ‘am just a lifeless mummy now,
I was once at the heart of Egyptian life,
I became first queen of real power,
I helped shape history through my actions,
My name still lives on today,
People still carry my name after all these years,
I have become as close to immortal as any human can,
History still remembers who I was,
The Tye name lives on across the world,
People still us my name with pride,
Though I died so long ago I still live on,
Showing the world what I achieved,
I was the first woman to become an equal to men,
People respected me for my wisdom and intellect,
I paved the way for all those who followed me,
I was the first of many great queens though-out history,
I ‘am a sign of what could be achieved by one person.
poem by Christopher Tye
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Related quotes
A Real Hero
A REAL HERO
Some people come into our life and quickly go. Some stay for a while and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same.
We admire some people because they are good at what they do and we want to be like them.
Both actions and character are keys to what it takes to be a hero. Perhaps a person is your hero because he or she is extremely honest, or may be that person fought to improve a bad situation or helped someone in great need.
Recipe of a hero: Although heroes are unique, there is a common denominator. A hero makes a difference to the lives of others, often without fanfare. The influence of a hero's actions can live long after the actual deeds are forgotten.
A hero models the great possibilities of the human spirit. This can help us discover our own talents and heroic qualities.
But remember: Heroes are only human. They may not do everything right all the time.
Learning to understand their mistakes and putting them into perspective is a sign of maturity. So imitate the good in others, while always trying to be our own unique best selves.
poem by Bhumika Wadhwa
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2,000 Years Of History! !
2,000 years of history!
2,000 years of history! !
2,000 years of history could not be wiped away so easily.
From the constitution of the Olympic Gods inot Olympic Games,
And from the mystery God of december 25th into Christmas;
But,2,000 years of history could not be wiped away so easily.
Oh! ! What a Babylonian Train of Constantaine to cover the truth of the Zion Train today;
For, the quest of knowledge had really blinfolded my people!
With no reward of positivity to the heaven of heavens;
For, the masses are now giving glory to 'Semiramis'! ! !
Who, through her schemes became the 'Babylonian Queen Of Heaven'.
Yes,2,000 years of history could not be wiped away so easily!
And, the Romans based their letters on the Greek Alphabets;
Which are still in use today,
So, learn from the truth only and come out of this deceived world and be saved.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Nothing Ever Last
The World's great Empires have gone to decay
They rose and they fell and each had their day
And one Super Power rise as another does fall
And the small will grow great and the great become small.
The Pharoahs and the Aztecs and the Incas as well
And the all conquering Romans too had their glorious spell
And the Spaniards and the British of the recent past
Were known to be great Empires but they too did not last.
The Soviets and Germans great power did command
But their demise not that hard to understand
Since great powers they come and great powers they go
Though nothing lasts forever as history does show.
Genghis Khan and Napoleon and Alexander the Great
These all conquering heroes had their use by date
Though in the history of the World their names living on
The Empires they ruled over like them are long gone.
Un-rivalled for supremacy as the World Super Power of today
By far the most powerful Nation is the U S of A
But as history does tell us nothing ever last
And one day they too will be a power of the past.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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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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From History We've Not Learned
Men crucified the one millions now worship more than two thousand years ago
Yet many men they are as cruel today and any compassion towards others they never seem to show
And the gifts of compassion and empathy to the special few belong
And many far too many seemingly cannot tell right from wrong
Two thousand and seven years ago Jesus Christ was crucified
And nailed to a timber cross on Calvary slowly and painfully he died
Yet we have not learned from human history and it does seem sad to say
That nowadays many decent people die in the foulest way,
The war supposed to end all wars did not live up to it's tag
Young people dying in war zones every day for God and Land and Flag
Before we learn the lesson of history how many more must die
War men mock the sacredness of human life and many wars based on a lie
It has been more than two thousand years since Christ died on Calvary
And from history we've not learned a thing that's how 'twould seem to be.
poem by Francis Duggan
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What Is A Jewish Poem?
WHAT IS A JEWISH POEM?
What is a Jewish poem?
‘Shema’ is a Jewish poem
Perhaps the Jewish poem-
'Shmoneh Esreh' is comprised of Jewish poems
Nineteen prayers as one-
Our history is filled with Jewish poems-
From the beginning with Abraham and Sarah
Those who have given so much beyond our understanding -
Jewish poems everywhere -
Is each Jewish life a poem and a story also?
Or is it only those who give something to our people and history
Who are worthy of Poetry?
I have known many Jewish poems
People the great world will not know the names of
People who whether they walked humbly or not
Made the lives of others better in some way –
Kindness is perhaps the ultimate Jewish poem
And Justice also-
And Jewish poems are not without their contradictions –
As I write this poem in Jerusalem in the land of Israel
I think of the small Jewish world of Troy New York where I came from so many years ago
And miss so many people no longer of that and this world –
Longing for Israel for two thousand years was the Jewish poem
Living here now is a blessing and a gift
I thank God for.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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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It's The Conquerors Who Write The History
As they chased the wild bison on horse back they whooped and cheered loud
And they were great hunters so noble and proud
But now on the prairies the bison are rare
And the people who hunted them no longer there.
Of the great Northern Land the first people till the invaders came
And their tragic dispossession is a thing of great shame
Conquered and put into reservations for to grow old and die
The rights of Indigenous people to them did not apply.
It's the conquerors who write history as we have been told
And men they have murdered for Land and for Gold
But what matters most when history we trace
That a Country's first people must take pride of place.
You great country singers with your golden guitars,
You politicians and tycoons and billionaire movie stars
There once was a people far greater than you
And to Mother Nature they were far more true.
And the workings of Nature they did understand
And they were the people who cared for the Land
And they were displaced and oppressed and down trod
By those who believed in a different God.
They once were great warriors, wise, noble and proud
And they gave us Chief Seattle and wise Chief White Cloud
And their profound words of wisdom still living today
And such things of great beauty will never decay.
The truth may seem bitter but the truth we must face
That a Country's first people should take pride of place
And around the World Indigenous people are not treated well
Though they have such marvellous stories to tell.
The conquerors write the history as conquerors do
But to the true history they never are true
And the conquered the history never will write
And we are conditioned to believe that might is always right.
The changes keep happening and nothing seem to last
And the great herds of bison a thing of the past
And those who once hunted them were locked away
And in reservations were forced for to stay.
Out on the lone prairie their ghosts still reside
At midnight the hunters their spotted horses ride
As they chase the wild bison across the great plain
The past in the moonlight comes to life again.
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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Ancestral domain my quest
history tells on people, geography, race, culture and
events, is a wonderful topic for, the process gives
meaningful aspect of human sphere
great civilization started in common principle, an
inherent idea, that all men are created equal, above
other living animal who lives in this wonderful earth
a unquestionable notion that all species are free to
procreate, free to exist, free to subdue of what is
given and has all the opportunity to live in any given
time
the land is the only living testimony that witness the
existence of our races in many ages, for it is the race
who own the land, any dishonor of the human race is
worse than death
not need to go, beyond cultural languages and principle
but only we need to know the basic principle that before
the culture comes to existence the human lives, owns
the land
defination of terminology, even indigenous people as
defind has nothing to say on the real meaning of race,
words definition, hutchs the essence of human race
it is now the quest of every race, to praxis and achieve
our meaningful existence, for only our race lives forever,
and zeal by time in the history of ancestral domain,
a quest of our human race.......
poem by Antonio Liao
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History Maker
History maker World shaker it’s what I wanna be
Going places seeing faces making history
Stepping out not afraid coming up against the enemy
History maker world shaker that’s what I wanna be
Get up and go-there is trouble everywhere
Finding solutions to our problems is so very rare
No more talking cause all the talking’s done
History maker world shaker I already have begun
Stand up for right I am in a fight
Trying with all my might to free them from their plight
History maker world shaker that’s what I want to be
Helping people change, changing history
But I can’t do it alone I need someone
To help me do the job and get it done
Become a history maker starting here today
Be a world shaker follow me I will show the way
Copy Right HN Brown 31 January 2009
poem by Henry Brown
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Down In The Cockpit
(andy partridge)
Man acting like a farmer and,
Hes treated the woman like a poor cow,
We got to treat you better from now,
But man is just a baby and,
Hes needing your milk of kindness.
I vow to drink as much as you will allow.
All the way through history,
Man, machine, no mystery,
All the way through history,
Girl have the brain to act like the weaker sex.
Down in the cockpit,
Man need the woman to pull him right out of it,
Down in the cockpit,
Man need the woman to pull him right out of it.
Queen wants the castle,
Back from the rascal,
Queen wants the castle.
The girl tribe are growing up and,
Filling the world full with a new soul,
To get so far they payed a high toll.
Try not to make,
The same mistakes,
As man has done, or youll fall in that hole,
And you will see us changing our role.
All the way through history,
Man, machine, no mystery,
All the way through history,
Girl have the brain to act like the weaker sex.
Down in the cockpit,
Man need the woman to pull him right out of it,
Down in the cockpit,
Man need the woman to pull him right out of it.
Queen wants the castle,
Back from the rascal,
Queen wants the castle.
song performed by by Xtc
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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Western history has been a history of deed done, actions performed and results achieved.
quote by Arthur Erickson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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)
Athens Beckons!
It is not just a fairy tale
But true and very much real
In the history of long long ago
There flourished the glory of Athens
And the golden age of Pericles
Just not a city of scenic beauty
But an ideal and a model city
The perfect symbol of democracy
And no special room for aristocracy
Devoted to the cause of Excellency
Surely a seat of great wisdom
Where people could enjoy utmost freedom
By digging deep into the repository
No where is found such place in all history
The mother of all epistemology
Where Socrates could write his Apology
When the justice shone on all the houses
Even the poor could smile as the virtuous
Bloomed on this cradle of fine culture
Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides
Could nourish the roots of literature
Herodotus and Thucydides
Two great chroniclers of matchless wisdom
Who took away from history all its boredom
Whoever said that history is dead
Isn't aware of the edifice on which we stand
For nations like Athens once mighty and grand
Connect us to history's unending strand!
poem by Rekha Sathya
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To You, Africa
You are a beautiful terra firma
With beautiful people
Rich in history
Rich in prosperity
You are a land of life hard lived
Through droughts and famines
Your people had a lot to give
Your villages were of close community
Unlike that of civilization
You were the best example
that the world could have seen
Then the toubob began to arrive
And your people were taken
With no regard for your childrens lives
I know you are still shaken
Taken from the land they loved
Shoving their beloved Earth into their mouth
For one last taste of you, Africa
Your people have been stolen
Your people have been killed
Your generations have been lost
Your families have been torn apart
Your people have been enslaved
Your women have been raped
Your people have long suffered
Your people have lived through misery
Stolen for what purpose
Other than to be a serf
Some say it could have been worse
But we know it was the worst
Africa, your people are great
Your people are strong
Your people survived through it all
Your people still sung their songs
After 1865 they were freed
Yet still they were enslaved it seemed
Today there are still places that ban your people
Brought here unwillingly, to this 'land of the free'
Your people are who can change this nation
Your people are here for that reason
All hope is not lost
We will succeed regardless of the cost
This is to you, Africa
poem by Ryan Sanders
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To be connected to America’s causes — liberty, equal justice, respect for the dignity of all people — brings happiness more sublime than life’s fleeting pleasures. Our identities and sense of worth are not circumscribed but enlarged by serving good causes bigger than ourselves. "Fellow Americans" — that association has meant more to me than any other. I lived and died a proud American. We are citizens of the world’s greatest republic, a nation of ideals, not blood and soil. We are blessed and are a blessing to humanity when we uphold and advance those ideals at home and in the world. We have helped liberate more people from tyranny and poverty than ever before in history. We have acquired great wealth and power in the process. We weaken our greatness when we confuse our patriotism with tribal rivalries that have sown resentment and hatred and violence in all the corners of the globe. We weaken it when we hide behind walls, rather than tear them down, when we doubt the power of our ideals, rather than trust them to be the great force for change they have always been.
quote by John McCain
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Queen Sheba-Ra
To the Snake Island,
To the Fish Island,
To the Love Island,
To the Peace Island,
To where our muses do meet;
Like a message from Queen Sheba-Ra.
Many want to see my face but,
I am faceless;
Many want to know my name but,
I am nameless;
Many want to see my home but,
I am homeless;
Many want to hear my voice but,
I am voiceless;
Many want to see my hair but,
I am hairless;
You can change your life by making the right choices.
A message from Queen Sheba-Ra,
The Queen from Nubia in Ethiopia;
Like the message from a poet without a name.
I am from a land of an entity but of different people,
My muse is all that i leave for mankind;
Queen Sheba-Ra,
Love must come from the heart;
Of the traditions of Africa,
Queen Sheba from Nubia;
Let's free ourselves from mental slavery.
I eat Cassava but i don't eat Gari,
You eat eggs but you don't eat chicken;
Yes, like Queen Sheba who met King Solomon.
My 73-year-old mother-in-law rides a bicycle,
My 82-year-old father-in-law rides a bicycle,
So pass it on to the next generation;
Like Amen-Ra from the roots of Egypt.
A call for the African Chiefs,
Queen Sheba-Ra III met Nii Adjei Karku II;
Hannibal the cannibal,
Queen Sheba-Ra III met Nii Tetteh Otu II;
Queen Sheba,
Queen Sheba-Ra I,
Queen Sheba-Ra II,
Queen Sheba-Ra III,
Of the African Chiefs and Queens;
46664 is in our hands today and,
Nelson Mandela has enough for us.
Of a cloud as small as a man's hand,
Of a poem as sweet as your muse,
Of a head taller than the others;
Life is like the one who puts off his armour.
Queen Sheba-Ra,
A man is measured by his strength;
Queen Sheba-Ra,
A woman is measured by her wisdom;
Queen Sheba-Ra,
I am very old and grey-headed;
So, i will rather have my donkey saddled.
Listen oh Heavens,
Hear oh Earth;
I am the shadow from the mountains!
Let my poetry fall on you like rain,
Let Queen Sheba-Ra III carry on her message,
Let wisdom abound to those who want to learn;
Like a lamb in front of the Balsam tree.
Brazil won a football tournament,
Italy won a football tournament,
Egypt won a football tournament,
Spain won a football tournament;
46664 is in our hands today and,
We have to learn more from Nelson Mandela!
From Ur to Rome,
From Queen Sheba to Queen Sheba-Ra III;
Africa has more to tell the world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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