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History Lyric Poems | Lyric Poems About History

These History Lyric poems are examples of Lyric poems about History. These are the best examples of History Lyric poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Lyric |

Montage Poetry

The words we use become pictures into lives
Pictures from words spread out for all to see
This is what becomes of our poetry
Has the makings of a montage to me
With words we complete many pictures
Pictures then arranged to fit in closeness
And so with our poetry I do believe
We create a montage for all to see


Details | Lyric |

New Deal

New Deal

Black Tuesday
     October 1929
     Vanishing wealth; stocks decline

Great Dust Bowl
     Windstorms and drought, top soil gone
     Breadbasket empty; nature’s con

FDR
     He’s the man, New Deal imposed
     Opportunities renewed; hopes rose

New Deal Reigns
     Work offered by the CCC
     Saves the lost American dream

Recession Echo
     The winter plunge 2009
     Who will save our dreams this time?

Reality Knocks
     Frustration with Congress, current events
     November elections a time to vent

New Deal Needed
     Americans looking for leadership
     Power from sheep about to be stripped



*For Constance, a Rambling Poet’s “Create your own form, maybe?” contest
By Carolyn Devonshire
I work frequently in this form that I choose to call “Headline Couplets.”  It includes a 
headline followed by rhyming couplets that address the concept, person or event in 
the first line of three-line verses.  Probably inspired by my years as a journalist.


Details | Lyric |

Aliens Choking on Oxygen

I was here I was here First I was here First Take a breath of oxygen Your choking on confidence The lights are on but you cant see Slit wrist Bleed You took my life from me Let us come back You stole the air we breath Let us come back I was here first Choking on oxygen I was here first Choking on oxygen I was here first Choking on oxygen You took my life from me Let us come back You stole the air we breath Let us come back Choking Like Aliens Choking on oxygen
to hear the song search youtube for "Aliens Choking on Oxygen" Heliosonic written by Sara Perle and Omar Masri


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) |

the day you flew to Heaven


           We knew , it was if a moment stopped in time 
              hearing the news before most of the World did
           He loved to fly his plane from Colorado to Monterey Bay
           He was a avid golfer at Pebble Beach respected 

           He had loves and passions from many places 
           deciding to fly low through the overcast red sunset
            Not only did he love music and inspire all 
            He loved his Plane , he will always remain a beautiful Soul

              The next day it was confirmed ..all saddened 
             It was John Denver's plane that went down
             Today in Pacific Grove stands the Memorial 
             So Kiss me and smile for me we will ~
              always in loving memory 
               OH babe ,  do we hate you go ~    
                            
    

         Inspired by ; contest in Music and Loss of an Artist
                   "Leaving on a Jet Plane "
             


Details | Lyric |

The Old Homestead

Orphaned footsteps round the old place.
Pitch black soil, packed deep with bartered
coin and Indian heads – wood and otherwise,

coat her worn leather shoes, Hutterite chic. 
The long land screams within its own silence.
Prairie sage burns somewhere, a ghostly smudge

for the undulating grass and, those it serves.
Its alive scent makes the dead turn towards 
its head - and the barely living turn to listen. 

The impossibly endless horizon holds its bright 
blue at bay, begging acknowledgement for 
its self-professed being and looming enormity.

She looks at the broken window glass and 
through the tattered, delicate gray lace. “Those 
were hers.” She whispers to the one who listens. 

This great-great-granddaughter sees the curtains 
as they once were – wistful in the hot Manitoba 
wind; fresh and lowing with the honest elemental 

scent of aspens, hope and bare-knuckle wash boards; 
always fresh; shifting in the cry for solace in summer 
shadows – never as still as this moments endlessness.

Blowing through the deep brown of splintered pine 
front doors; cracking the announcement of cast iron, 
rot and burnt wood comes the simple statement of – 

I lived. This mother of five young does not cry, 
just yearns to walk in the old ones footsteps;
to know them loved; hear the birdsong through

unbroken bedroom windows for a 5am waking; 
feel the resistance of dough on fingers that beg 
to be broken, and kiss the twisting undead, living. 


The burning of the noonday sun taps her whole,
marking; branding her pale Swedish skin its own.
The red sting of burnt breaks her inward silence, 

welcoming her familiar face home.




© Kristin Reynolds 3 29 2009

*Reposted for John's Summer Celebration Contest. This is a personal celebration; 
celebrating and honoring my great grandparents who settled in Manitoba after leaving 
Sweden and Denmark. This celebrates the summer of family, at least for me. We went there 
every summer until it was gone...


Details | Lyric |

If History Was Food

< Plato liked his full
Ceaser liked his salad
And Molotov had a burning desire for cocktails
And of cause Wellington was upper crust
But who do you think had to pay for all this
Monet of cause
But the face of Helen of Troy looked as if she had
MUNCHED A THOUSAND CHIPS >
-----------------------------------------------------


Details | Lyric |

Inside Job

Building castles in the air,
Gold and diamonds everywhere;
You were the brightest stars in your own skies

In empty space you built your dreams
Behind  computer screens
You rode in long expensive cars
 Drank in all the trendy bars
As all the while you lied and bet
Against the ones who'd hoped to get
Some small piece of our communal pie;
They bought your homes and with them bought the lie.

     It was all an inside job
     Pulled by a faceless mob
     Of bankers, lawyers and their ilk.
     It was all an inside job
     By a thoughtless, greedy mob
     Of men who rob the poor to sleep on silk.

Smoking candles, fallen flowers
Foreclosed homes and broken hours -
This is the aftermath of what you've done,
Games ill played and  ill begun.

And the rich keep getting richer
Though they've painted us the picture
Of what happenswhen you set the weasels free.
They've no concern for you or me
Or the discrepancies we see;
Should be enough for us that they should always be.
No one's punished ,no one pays,
And they remain, complacent in their ways.

     It was all an inside job
     Staged by the untouched mob
     Of bankers, lawyers and their ilk.
     It was all an inside job
     Perpetrated by the mob
     Of men who rob the poor to sleep on silk.

And now this evil season
Has descended without reason
And the sheep will stand and wait
To receive their unearned fate.

I hope you're proud, you sleep at night
While masses live by candlelight
May your riches find you lone and cold
When you at last are frail and old
And no one mourns your passing days
And none thought loyal will stay
To watch with you all through the coming gloom
That pushes you, now helpless, to your tomb.

Castle building in the air
Gold and diamonds everywhere;
The brightest stars will dim away
Replaced by others, other days.

     And so it goes, the inside job
     Brought off by the blacksuited mob
     The bankers, lawyers and their ilk.
     The framers of the inside job
     That heartless, faithless, grasping mob
     Will one day drown, beneath a sea of silk.


Details | Lyric |

Phryne II

Greece you are waiting for me.
With white speechless marbles
within the August heat.
With sullen and loveless areopagites
carving my name on sea-shells.

Hypereides, you liar.
Praxiteles, oh so blind.
You Xenocrates, son of the *****.

And me that I was thought
I would return bearing banners
to rebuild your Thebes.

A roar under the earth.
Ashes in the wind.
Athens rises in the sky
and charges against me.

Why should I be afraid?
Why should I run for a shelter?
No!
I don’t want you to cover my eyes.
I want to see the terror in yours,
when after the execution
you’ll find me at the exit,
waiting for you
with a molotov cocktail in my hands.


Details | Rhyme |

My Rodeo Cowboy

papa said 
son what you going to do 
with your life

now that you have 
no money job 
or wife

he said papa
I'm going to 
leave this town

think I'll
join up with the rodeo 
and break them bulls down 

Maybe even rope
me a stallion or
even a clown

Son you better
take another 
look around

for theres no money
for bull riders
thrown to the ground

or being stepped on
by a horse or bull
weighing over eight hundred pounds

Papa I promise 
Ill make you proud
of your rodeo cowboy when I'm done

And promise 
not to be thrown or bucked off
to the ground

So papa please come
visit when our show's
in town

for I'll be 
the one riding high on 
the biggest bull that's found

hanging on for just 
eight seconds while I'm
listening for that bells sound

just kicking those sides
of horses and bulls
jumping up and down

with coming out your
top rodeo champion and
bull rider found



Tribute To
The Rodeo Cowboys 
and Cowgirls


Hang Tough


Details | Lyric |

Blind Sight

Back in the day when a horse was a need
And a sword was a weapon to fear
Poets were druids and music was magic
And an eye interfered with an ear
So musical poets were blinded by swords
White hot and held very close
So all they had left was a hearing of tone
And  an opening way of reprisal
They felt their duty to blind with their beauty
So that listeners felt so alone
They  would need to be led
And of course would be bled
By the king they had put on the throne
The songs taught them so well
That the king went to hell
And the blinded then held a revival
Nowadays poets can see and be free
Stand on their own and be whole
It’s the way we come into the world
Using all senses the mind comprehenses
To heal all the scars of  the soul
Pain’s for the body to deal with
Soul’s a creation to hold
As the only thing one can own
Leaving  this wonder unfurled
Is the way we go out of this world


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