History Poems
Questions Of Travel
by Elizabeth Bishop
There are too many waterfalls here; the crowded streams
hurry too rapidly down to the sea,
and the pressure of so many clouds on the mountaintops
makes them spill over the sides in soft slow-motion,
turning to waterfalls under our very eyes.
- For if those streaks, those mile-long, shiny, tearstains,
aren't waterfalls yet,
in a quick age or so, as ages go here,
they probably will be.
But if the streams and clouds keep travelling, travelling,
......
Creed
by Steve Turner
We believe in Marxfreudanddarwin.
We believe everything is OK
as long as you don't hurt anyone,
to the best of your definition of hurt,
and to the best of your knowledge.
We believe in sex before during
and after marriage.
We believe in the therapy of sin.
We believe that adultery is fun.
......
We Refugees
by Benjamin Zephaniah
I come from a musical place
Where they shoot me for my song
And my brother has been tortured
By my brother in my land.
I come from a beautiful place
Where they hate my shade of skin
They don't like the way I pray
And they ban free poetry.
......
Maastricht aan de Maas
by Mario Odekerken
De stad ademt oud en nieuw tegelijk,
stenen vertellen verhalen
zonder stem.
De Maas glijdt traag,
alsof zij niets vergeet,
alsof elke golf
een herinnering draagt.
Bruggen verbinden meer dan oevers
......
Plutonian Ode
by Allen Ginsberg
I
What new element before us unborn in nature? Is there
a new thing under the Sun?
At last inquisitive Whitman a modern epic, detonative,
Scientific theme
First penned unmindful by Doctor Seaborg with poison-
ous hand, named for Death's planet through the
sea beyond Uranus
whose chthonic ore fathers this magma-teared Lord of
......
Sunrise
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
In huge purple blooms
ancestor of ancestors,
sun streaked cro magnon!
The whispering lime green leaves
told secrets of fragrant breeze.
A Sonnet 16: The Batik Soul
by Ayatullah Nurjati
My soul is dyed in patterns of the past,
A batik thread through centuries of flame.
Each motif speaks of empires built to last,
Yet whispers loss beneath the woven name.
The wax resists the dye, like truth resists
The empire’s ink upon the scholar’s scroll.
Yet in each fold, a sacred myth persists—
A lotus blooming from the fractured whole.
......
On the Streets of Old London
by Mario Odekerken
Cobblestones remember
the weight of centuries-
boots,hooves,bare feet
all pressing stories
into the cracks.
Smoke curls from chimneys
like the ghosts of industry,
and the fog-
thick,yellow,and watching-
......
The Seven Wonders
by Mario Odekerken
The seven wonders stand,
silent witnesses to time,
stones and stories carved by hands long gone.
The Great Pyramid rises,
a triangle touching the sky,
enduring through desert,winds and sun.
The Hanging Gardens breathe,
lust with forgotten green,
......
D'Artagnan
by Mario Odekerken
Niet in Parijs,
niet in een duel bij dageraad,
maar hier,
aan de rand van Maastricht,
vond him zijn einde.
Tussen rook en kruit,
tussen bevelen en stilte
viel hij
zoals hij had geleefd-
......
