Best Historylife Poems
Refrain
You shimmering waves on the ocean blue
Dance not again, he cannot dance with you
You weeping forests where the winds wail too
Let your bright tears fall in the pool of dew
The world of pop will never be the same again
The king is dead, and life is a dream so vain.
Do you ask me why does my sorrow flow so
Endlessly for him? Is he not gone the way
Of men that many went before? O I do know
My time may not be long, and lessons delay.
Who do think was the man in the mirror? did
You see us there, did you know it oppressed him
When like wanton dogs drugged and rabid
Went heedless along the callous way being dim.
Look at the dance videos again, tell me
You see the what he begs to beat it. Off the wall
Are shadows falling like an inner expose
Where he internalized the world, and yet did call
In many songs - his troubled world was us
But now the king's sun set to dust, and we
Remain to heed and weep the vanity of lust
The tangled truths of out tentacled history!
Michael was God's gift to our season, and how I
Wish he would dance for me across the tribal plains
Of Africa again, where warriors ride in the sky
Through the fire make us brothers without chains
A global oneness where dreams deny the child
Nothing again. O death, what oneness beyond this
Can we find? Treat him kindly there, be mild
To him who in this troubled life knew no bliss.
Michael I miss you; O genius, sleep now in peace
The storms of life are over, the lightning ends
And droughts will come again, but I'll never cease
To proclaim your virtues to foes and friends;
Sleep beloved. Your glory stream in summer's eye
And Harlem's street are filled, old men remember
And old women interrupt their planning to cry
Farewell, Michael ... the grandest star is but an ember.
In the course of years,
Vincent wrote out his heart.
Capturing his thoughts,
Around his life and art.
Sunflowers were his muse,
As he painted through the rain.
He beautified the canvas,
While adding hints of pain.
His heart, mind, and soul,
Were his artistic trio.
He chronicled his life of art.
In his letters to Theo.
________________________________
*Note: Inspired by Vincent Van Gogh's
Letters to his brother Theodore describing,
his art, pain, and inspirations...
We who survived the Holocaust
My life was taken away from me.
I was an unknown Jewish prisoner.
The Germans sent me to a concentration camp.
We had no food, which lead to starvation.
I wish I had a different life
I had a golden crown that could lead me to sudden pain.
I had to march for hours and hours till I reached a point where I can feel pain
beneath my feet.
I had to watch my Dad being wiped by German solders.
I didn’t have any rights or freedom.
In this society it’s all about life or death.
I am a young boy named Elie who is determined to live a healthy life.
I come from a poor family.
I sleep in a small room crammed with innocent Jews.
I pray and pray that my destiny lies in gods hands hoping to live.
I deal with father and son relationships only.
I had to bury bodies including my Dads whose body I couldn’t save.
I had to watch people being tortured like my Dad.
I lived because I believed in God and God believed in me.
We survived the holocaust.
My life was changed forever.
I was a Danish woman who risked my life for a friend named Ellen.
I was sent for help.
I felt bad for Ellen to a point where I was so depressed all I could do is fall to the
floor.
I had a life that I was willing to save which could lead me to sudden death.
I had to take care of my family everyday.
For days and days I had to lie to the German soldiers for my own sake.
I had a lot of freedom because the German’s didn’t care about Danish people.
I am a ten-year old girl named Annemarie.
I came from a wealthy family.
I sleep in a peaceful house with less, people and more space to move around.
I deal with problems that my friends and family faces.
I had to be in dangerous situations that could nearly get me killed.
I had to watch the Nazi’s destroy houses that the Jew’s lived in.
There seem to be many, but never are there plenty. In the begining was the word and
that he became life from the same (?) that has no ending. If there are feeling's you would
like to express at this very moment, what would that word be ? Would that word be enough
to immentily self-expose you are me. "If for no other reason", you and only you, must de-
cide when you have reach the thressinghold of being "tired of being sick and tire", and for-
ever and ever when you have reach that plattoe do you seek out the word that truly will give
meaning to that interest of desire.
"If for no other reason", do we all realize that the world owe's you nothing. The blight of man
kind itself is that it has obliviated the courtship of "Trust" and looking in your rearview mirror
as you drive from one episode to the next, another question needs some answer's. Can the
word that became life, would trust be able to lift you (me) from the sidewalk to the "good
season". O'You, Can you see your Breakthrough. You know never are there plenty but there
do seem to be many, people that has grown tire beyond just being (?) and now "If for no
other reason", you cann't allow your breakthrough to come to (?) then the season of spring-
summer and or fall, will never return to lift you away from being You. And blessing goes on
and you will be stuck amoung the abusers forsakening the mystery of why you're so (?)..
How do you really feel, "feel about life right now". Really, yes in the beginning was the
word and now I know you have heard, that be became life and you and I are heir's on that
(?) and I myself do not know why you feel the way you do. Why in Afghanistan is there to
come a day when peace describe the word of today and hope pertains an idea for tomorrow.
How do you (?) today. Are you mad enough to kill, are you slouthful in all due season inso
enough you steal.
There seem to be many, there very-well maybe people that shall not keep it real. Send
our boy's home Mr. President, within the power of your might. If for no other reason, just
because all the people are beyond their thresshold with no place to go but up, it is what shall
hide our pain - when your breakthrough is known as (?). "If for no other reason", I feel
today, is my "Season".
Bound by chains……
Bound by chains then,
Chains bind us now,
It has taken away from our life style,
And the means to know how,
Bound by chains,
You have locked away our fathers,
Stolen the bodies of my people’s women,
Yet still to take it further,
Bound by chains,
Our kids continue to drop out of school,
Have my people killing one another,
That is not cool,
Bound by chains,
What is old let die?
Chains bound us then,
Today only in our minds,
Bound by chains,
I say no not “I”,
Thanks to those who paid the price,
Today I let loose of those chains,
That had my life and mind bound,
Throughout writing this poem something better was found,
Freedom.
Form:
Charles Darwin Shocks the World
By Elton Camp
Darwin’s father made it plain as could be.
“When you grow up, go into the ministry.
That’s an occupation respectable enough.
The schooling it requires isn’t very tough.”
A respectful son, he tried hard to obey,
But learned he didn’t believe that way.
Some church doctrine he couldn’t accept.
Of reason and common sense it was bereft.
None dared the belief to critique
Which said all was made in a week.
In Genesis “day” is used three ways.
But churches were in a mental daze.
Unable to accept a belief so inane,
From being a preacher he did refrain.
“Anyone who has eyes to see
From such a timeline will flee.”
“Since the churches are so mistaken,
My own faith they’ve badly shaken.
On an ocean voyage I came to understand
How ages were used for life on this land.”
He never said that apes became men.
Or just how he thought life did begin.
Those who never read his book
Need to get one and take a look.
In any place where life does strive,
Only the fittest are going to survive.
This was his major projection:
Change was by natural selection.
And then to their lasting shame
Others added much in his name.
If he could know and speak today:
“That’s not what I wanted to say!”
Darwin might never have gone that road
Without wrong church teaching as a goad.
Had he known what the Bible truly does say,
Then he might never have moved that way.
A memory so cold, its written in stone,
On a wall, out in washington,
up a mountain of stairs, sits a man brass and boney,
with a full chin of hair,
he faught for equality, of both black and white,
a man out to change ones destiny,
by first changing ones life.
He sat six foot four,
in the presidents suite,
reading correspondents from generals in heat,
out on a battle field,
fighting a war, against ones nation,
to keep a union untore.
He was murdered in office,
at a old town play,
by a man named booth,
he was shot where he lay.
after a few hours,
home in his bed,
he died there leaving us,
a country without a president,
a month after re-elect.
and the end of the war,
a nation came together,
of both white and black.
issues still rise,
and people still fall,
under one nation,
with equality for all,
its not like it matters to you or to me,
cuz now that we see what this man had to be,
he started an up rise,
with just a few words
in the gettysburg address,
his voice was heard,
we talk about equality,
and what we all want,
but still today in highschools its
all about the thought,
the thought that shes nothing,
or the thought that hes better,
cuz hes from a rich family,
and shes out in the weather,
without a house,
and without the food,
cuz her parents couldnt pay for a childhood,
why do we fight when we all hold back
against a world thats lacking the respect
we dont try to end this hate,
a racial descrimination
thats bound with shame.
he lost his life
representing us,
he spoke out,
to defend the ones,
the ones who were weak
and the ones who would treat
the hurt and the hungered with
a life of disrespect.
He stopped his life,
and he stood up,
for a cause that most today,
have no clue of.
Form:
From a far away land he was brought in chains
In a dark hole of a black ship he was sold for gains.
His life belonged to another,
And to the highest bidder he was sold to his keeper’s brother.
He worked from first light to past the setting sun
And then did more until the work was done.
Six days a week, with rest on one
He toiled at hard labor under the scorch of the sun.
The crack of a whip
Brought no words from his lips
He just looked down
And worked without a sound.
For his labors he received not a cent,
He did and went where he was sent.
A crude shelter he called his home
Worn clothes were all that covered his bones.
Of family he was not allowed any
And friends, truly there were not very many.
When his life was ended in a rude bed he was laid,
And his worn body then placed in an unmarked grave.
Continued From:
16. A Short And Violent Life Ends. A Legend Begins, Part 2
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195836
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"Duerme bien, Querido" or "Sleep Well, Beloved" are the words that were engraved
on a small wooden cross that Deluvina Maxwell placed at Billy's grave.
This would be the first of many visits she would pay to The Kid.
She would visit him well into her senior years.
Many times she would be seen kneeling down at his grave
with her hand on her heart and often in tears.
Perhaps it's just me but none of this appears to be
the treatment of a feared and hated outlaw.
The feelings expressed by those who knew him best
were feelings of mourning, of loss and much more.
A wanton killer? An unconscionable human being?
BILLY the Kid was none of the above.
All who were his friend displayed it on the night his life did end.
Billy Was Someone Who Was Very Much Loved.
And so, close to midnight, on July 14th in the year of 1881,
William H Bonney was shot and killed, compliments of Pat Garrett's gun.
Pete Maxwell's house is where BILLY the Kid became Billy the deceased.
Billy, may your reckless and restless spirit finally
Rest In Peace.
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I hope what you've read will put some falsehoods to bed
regarding all of the untrue things that Billy allegedly did.
This concludes my truest to life story of William H Bonney,
The Forever Legendary BILLY the Kid
Continued From:
15. A Short And Violent Life Ends. A Legend Begins
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195837
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She slowly approached the lifeless form on the floor.
She knelt down, turned him over and gasped in horror at who she saw.
"Is he dead?" Garrett asked. "Is it The Kid?" He asked again.
Deluvina rose to her feet and lounged out at him.
She violently pounded her fists on Garrett's chest
as she screamed the vilest curses she could bestow upon his head.
She wanted to scratch his eyes out of his skull.
She wanted him suffering. She wanted him dead.
Garrett's deputies and her friends tried to pull her away from him
but even with their combined strength it was a task difficult to employ.
Interspersed between her tears, Deluvina Maxwell cried out to all who could hear,
"They've killed my little boy!"
Billy's body was then carried to the carpenter shop
and carefully laid down on top of a table.
Lit candles were placed surrounding The Kid.
The village then held an all night long candle lit vigil.
Women and children, the old and the poor,
even manly men were seen openly weeping,
as they all walked by giving their final good bye
to their fallen young friend now eternally sleeping.
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To Continue Go To:
17. A Short And Violent Life Ends. A Legend Begins, Conclusion
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195835
Continued From:
5. Billy, the Kid Part 2
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195851
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Billy was a lad of many aliases. William Henry McCarty is believed to be his birth name.
Alias Henry McCarty, Alias Henry Antrim,
Alias William Antrim Jr are all one and the same.
Kid Antrim was another alias that Billy became known to be.
His most common alias was simply The Kid.
Then one day suddenly he was William H Bonney
and finally, The Most Legendary Billy the Kid.
At the age of 12, legend says that he stabbed a man to death
because the man insulted his mother.
Legend also says that he killed a man for every year of his life.
It's been said that he was killed by a man once his friend.
Both were always seen hanging around with each other,
but it's also been said that The Kid was shot dead
because of his love for a woman that night.
Billy always fought to stay alive, when others would just accept their fate.
He did back then what he needed to do in order to survive.
It was kill or be killed if you dared to hesitate.
The Kid may have done some things that many can't justify.
Even so, his young life ended far too early to die.
Was he a victim of his time or was he truly the bad guy?
His entire truest to life story is about to unfold. Afterward you can decide.
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To Continue Go To:
7. Catherine McCarty
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195847
i have had bad in past
i hoped to god this would not last,
i made me sad and very blue
i could not believe this was true,
now the time has come along
when a think nothing can go wrong
what the future holds for me
hope and pray it makes me happie,
never a moment to feeling down
never will be anothers clown
to walk away with a smile
to sit and say our lifes worth while,
looking at the things to come
makes me smile at heavens above,
for all the things thats meant to be
is one thing is to be happpie.
no one can say if its good or bad
no one can say if it makes you sad,
just need to keep move along
and pray my life dont go wrong,
as life is here and what,s for me
bring some things thats meant to be,
to make me happy and also smile
making a change make life worth while,
to sit and think where it will go
to sit and let my life flow,
to bring a smile apon my heart
to say goodbye to times i had,
for whats to come will be a change
to change my life in many ways,
may not be money or a love
may not see someone from heavens above
as no one knows what it is,
for my life a give with a kiss,
i sound good as you may see
as i know whats good for me,
goodbye sad times and feeling blue
my new world i owe to you,
for i know so good and well
time for my blues to go to hell,
so smile along and be happy to,
as the way i feel can happen to you,
pray each day as it does go by,
for each day like white clouds in sky,
feel your heart open up,
and pray your never hurt,
taking the blues and lock them away
then you will be happy in every way,
goodbye bad times that were around,
i bury the bad times in the ground,
looking around and see what,s there,
its all the loving in the air,
so farewell my sadness you may have caused
for it was for a love i lost,
as time heel all wounds,
a won,t be around to be your fool.
my life is loved by many around,
and the sad times are in the ground,,,
Form:
One struggles neath the ever bearing hand of tyranny
One rises up in revolution, wanting to be free
One gives his life a soldier so the rest might live in peace
One celebrates in freedom as they cheer throughout streets
One starts his life from little but is free to make his way
One has more than his father at the closing of the day
One worked for very little yet expected everything
One sold his vote to get it without ever wondering
One sat in idle apathy as tyrants raised their hand
One wonders how it all went wrong and doesn’t understand
My entire life is weighed by a moment
the moment that will always be remembered
where life has taken a turn
now there is no way to go back
Only looking at life from my rear view
moments gone by
time that can never be recaptured
Judged by a moment
but there so much life to live
the future has yet to be written
though a moment from my past is all you see
Mistakes happen to all
look within them and see
events of shame
buried away
a moment never meant to be known
Form: