history poems

Parthenon – A Poem by Roy Pullam

- Leave a Comment

My knowledge
Of democracy rests
On Socrates, Plato, Aristotle
And a pile
Of broken stones
The beginning
Of western culture
On a hill
In freedom’s birthplace
I walk gingerly
My footsteps uncertain
On the wet rocks
Leading to the temple
Coming closer
To the skeleton
Marble columns
Two millenniums old
Reminders of a great civilization
That wrote the rules
That taught the world
And though in ruins
Enough remains
To give us a glimpse
Of the true greatness
That was Greece

History Lesson | Stan Morrison

- Leave a Comment

mason dixon lewis and clark
went exploring until it got dark
stumbled into the indian ocean
celebrated there with great emotion
many say the french-russian revolution
can be considered as the final solution
never mind what makes good sense
based on the facts and the evidence
make up anything and write a book
everyone’ll trust you if you’re a crook

Amelia E | Diane Wooward Dorff

- Leave a Comment

sister of flight
gone
all these years
you are here again
your soulful eyes
and aeronautic mind
at the edge of sight
a tiny firing
sparking
slipping out and in
airborne in the sky of here
of now
winging back from then

Soldiers | Dan Tindall

- Leave a Comment

In between the river
And the dim distant past
I spent my solitary childhood
In the quaint and murderous valleys
Of this gently wooded townland
Of a long forgotten sub-king
Whose sole remains are earthworks
And ancient brittle thorns
Where I hid from moonlit figures
Silent soldiers of all ages
In the cool sweet mist that rises
Through the rowans and whin bushes
And which sings softly of
Condolences that assure me I am
Dreaming and my mind will shortly
Flutter like the damselflies
That dodge and swerve from bats
And birds and broken swinging branches
That fall between the newly
Planted birches that were
Put there by my father
To rejuvenate this land

More at http://www.dantindall.com.

The Twin | Uduak Uwah (Whill)

- Leave a Comment

Who knows where the twin went?
It’s been ages and our time is almost spent.
It left home in 1914 in search of greener pastures in oblivion
It has since been nowhere to be found despite our efforts to effect a reunion.
Each time we send a delegation
It would return with a false declaration.
Proclaiming ‘peace and security’
When in reality
The conjoined twin had gone beyond our vicinity.

More at https://www.facebook.com/whilltree.

The River Meanders | Ananya S. Guha

- Leave a Comment

The bed of river
sands
civilization dead
only the steadfast climbing
of pillars, relics of an ancient
past, steps leading to an
arcade
capturing history in
moments of transgression.
The sea winds by,
couples sit on a bench
loving,
History creeps in timelessness
I watch in upper Assam
temples a carnival of ceremony
a park where they worshipped Lord Shiva,
all along the river meanders,
so does history.

Nok Figurine | Shola Balogun

- Leave a Comment

The ocean
in your eyes,
in its depth,
moves me.
Your smiles
like the juice
of Marula
and the beauty
of your carved lips
do enchant me,
to mime the most
vast deluge of songs
captivating from
Bantuland to Chelsea.
From Mombasa
to Singapore,
You’re the ancient
antiquity,
priceless like Benin
bronze
whose startling myths
depict my soul
Vist Shola at http://www.facebook.com/shola.balogun.184.
—–
Shola Balogun, playwright, poet and writer is from Yoruba,
southwestern Nigeria. He received his Masters Degree in Theatre Arts from the University of Ibadan, Nigeria, specializing in Literary and Dramatic Criticism. He was the winner of the First Educare Trust’s Olaudah Equiano Poetry Prize (2002) and the Festival of Peace Poetry Award (2005) organized by the Institute of African Studies, University of Ibadan. He is the author of a collection of poetry, The Cornwoman of Jurare and Other Poems (2007). His books The Wrestling of Jacob, Praying Dangerously: the Cry of Blind Bartimaeus, and Death and Suicide In Selected African Plays, are available at Amazon and select bookstores. His play, Egue Eghae, is ready for the stage. Shola Balogun also writes stories for children. His Yoruba background and encounter at
the age of 21 with the poetry of John Donne and William Shakespeare
influenced his creative writing.

Stories | Miguel Soto

- Leave a Comment

The stories are told in such a fine grit
the echoes of eternity were infinitely lit,
at certain paths there is a crossroad
you look for a crown to which I will righteously bestow.

The clutches of tomorrow were never in dismay
you write your riches to which no one ever flinches,
please say to sorry that I was never there
let us hope that there will be a share.

Go on, go on, go on, go far far on
snaring away at the pumps of your heart,
is all you will ever need to start.

Please don’t go, don’t give me a precise no
every sound of the air way can give a chance to go,
too little, too far on our journey to an intergalactic bar
a million men marched up Jupiter’s spiral low.

Take it, take it, take all the eternity of time
making up a conscience will give us a world to deny
from start to finish there will be no minds left to vanish.

The once and for all have grown too far gone
many can rid us from this infinite church,
I stand here in the middle as a road’s pawn
The earth will open up for us to emerge.

More at https://www.writeoutloud.net/profiles/miguelsoto.

Best Poetry Online