You And I: The Slumber
Eleven years of history slumbers between us.
Under the surface, it breathes.
It wonders if it has been forgotten,
Abandoned, lost.
I wondered if he could see the breaths,
The thoughts rising like colorless,
Medicated balloons.
I could.
The rearrangement of life, the history,
You and I.
And the madness, O how it burrows.
poem by Liesel Eva Schmidt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Page of my History
Some laughs some tears
This is it, its what we feared
We are going our separate ways
Things getting easier by the days
You’re now a page of my history
Many days of adventure and fun
But we both know we aren’t the one
The pain eases so very slow
But it’s for the best and we know it
You’re now a page of my history
The not knowing is the mystery
But us being together is history
We will get over the misery
Even though I miss yee
You’re now a page of my history
We gave it our best shot
But it was a game we lost
Our love is lost but never gone
We will find a place to keep it safe
You’re now a page of my history
poem by Stephanie Mcgrath
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You Became My History
You were once a mystery,
The one I loved to solve.
Deciphering your code,
Always got me lost.
I thought of understanding you more,
But before I realised it,
You became my history.
You were once a mystery,
Discovering you was a thrill,
Every puzzle I put together,
Granted me fulfilment,
But as time flew by,
you became my history.
You were once a mystery,
Every clue brought me closer,
Every step brought me nearer,
Only to make me smile,
I thrived on your addiction
But after a while,
You became my history.
You were once a mystery,
the very foundation that kept me stable,
Once I comprehended you, I began to feel able,
You were the ocean to my boat,
The cell to my system,
However, even without the distance,
You became my history.
You were once a mystery,
Clouded in question marks,
Trying to understand,
Trying to comprehend,
I was left with numerous thoughts,
The more I tried, the more I learnt,
The less I craved, and before I knew it,
You became my history.
poem by Zushan Hashmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Am Apart Of History
I am apart of history
History lies deep down inside of me
I am like Martin Luther King
Just like him I'm going to let freedom ring
I am like Mary Bethune
Because like Maya Angelou I walk like I got oil wells pumping in my living room
I am apart of history
History is important to me
I am like Charles DREW
Like him I can be a scientist too
I am like Malcolm X
Come on my sisters and brothers we have to stop that
I am like Chainey, Schwenger and Moore
I will get people to vote I will go to every door
I am apart of history
I accept the rights my ancestors gave to me
I am like Jackie Robinson
Lokking in the sky at my home runs
I am like Harriet Tubman
Taking slaves to their freedom land
I am like Medgar Evers
Like him I too can be clever
I am like Barack Obama
Rising above to greatness despite the drama
I am apart of history
History is deep down inside of me
poem by Jeanette Matthews
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Soft and Gentle House
The syncopated steps of memories through the walls
The soft and gentle feelings of history in the hall
The house breathes life into me … as through I softly step
And wonder who so often has … stood and gently met
The rhythm of the lives … throughout it’s history
Now surround and touch … and so encompass me
poem by Philip Vincent Sanders
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Song of Madness
Listless and empty, History revisits this winter
Slow moons on the icy river, pale and restless
Shadows jump out, from long abandoned moments
To flee the nights, painted on frozen windows
Darkness whispers his insane monologue
Waiting breathless on a nervous Christmas
Cloaked in brilliant rituals, Life turns up again
Crunching thoughts, to wake up sleeping Hope
Love and Impossibility sat around their dinner table
Passing gifts to eat out of their torrid lives
Some wrapped in tenderness, and some in secrets
Were all eaten in silence, sipping on blood-red thirst
Don't ask the dawn what she has for her new day
She cant sing, when History is still prowling
Everybody is waiting for Christmas to dance in
To slip out on Darkness, to Life and her moves
And so it goes on, Madness, Darkness, Life, and History
Walking around Love and Impossibility, and their dinner
Eating torrid lives with Hope, and waiting for Christmas moves
Fleeing nights and shadows, painted on frozen windows…
poem by Bindu Vijayan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In The Middle Of Madness
(instrumental intro)
Dont you really love her, dont you really care
Youve been looking forever, how did she get you there
In the middle of madness, when all has gone
In the middle of madness, she walks, she breathes babylon
Isnt she so pretty, isnt she so fine
Havent you been blessed to hold her all the time
In the middle of madness, when all has gone
In the middle of madness, she walks, she breathes babylon
(cant figure out this part)
(instrumental)
Have you found a heaven, try to see the worth,
Looking at the future, shes right here on earth
In the middle of madness, when all has gone
In the middle of madness, she walks, she breathes babylon
In the middle of madness, when all has gone
In the middle of madness, she walks, she breathes babylon
(fade out)
song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Short of Breath
One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four,
my breathing’s weak and my chest is sore.
Five breaths, six breaths, seven breaths, eight,
I have to breathe deeply at a slower rate.
One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four,
I’m four breaths closer than I was before.
Five breaths, six breaths, seven breaths, eight,
my mouth’s wide open, but I can’t inflate.
One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four,
it’ll be the end when I breathe no more.
Five breaths, six breaths, seven breaths, eight,
I’m sure someone's rattling heaven's gate.
One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four,
well that’s it, I can't count no more.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To believe history…
Two eye witnesses told me an event.
The third one told of it from hear-say.
I wondered about history written down.
I believe History in order to believe.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Simple Days
There are days that never make history,
That are never remembered for tantalizing love
On exotic beaches or abandoned farms,
But they’re simple days of prayer-like breaths
That cherish every moment
And send something beautiful and healing
Into the immense universe of God-like kindness.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!