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Valeriu Butulescu

History. So many fossilized lies.

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Black Days Of History

(10/25/12)

The black days of history that many do not know
And many refuse to accept - of how the black man
Helped AMERICA to be the greatest country yet.

They was brought here as slaves because the
Color of their skin!
But their minds was never searched to see
What lied within.

Every ethnic group that came to the states
Had many a hardship that they had to face.
Every race that came was given a derogatory name
Which they had to accept and had felt the shame.

But they all contributed to this great nation of ours
Which is now known as the greatest power.
These are just a few facts of what the blacks
Had given to this nation, and many of these
Became part of our salvation.

FACTS :) 1) john love- invented the pencil sharpener in 1897
2) Joseph lee -invented a bread making machine that mixed
The ingredients and kneaded the dough in 1895
3) Thomas l Jennings was the first African American to receive
A patent in 1821 which was for a dry cleaning process.
He used the money earned from his patent to purchase
Relatives out of slavery and support abolitionist causes.
4) madam c.j. walker (1867-1919) daughter of a former slave
Who suffered hair loss in her twenties and created hair care
Products, and allowed her to open a factory and school to
Train hundreds of black women to be economically self sufficient
And become one of the first female millionaires in U.S. history.

There is still something that burns in my heart
And when I think of it -it tears me apart
Of all the people in this great nation
That have been put to the ground
There lies one race that still lives
Way below the poverty line and
The government says there doing fine.

The "AMERICAN INDIAN" who had
Most all treaties broken and of this the
Government hasn't spoken.

Many families of five and more
Living in a shack without a door
Just a blanket to stop the wind
To me this is a crying sin.

The Indian charities having to buy
fifty five gallon drums for water
And many of them on "back order".

I know that I started writing this poem for the blacks
But on the Indian nations - I can't turn my back.
We have to help one another, for we're all
Sister and brother.

GOD BLESS US ALL

© L. RAMS

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Biography To History

A man’s biography
Becomes a history
With insertions of lies
By men of interest.

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Lies are held as truths

History is full of lies,
written by winners.
Scriptures are full of lies,
written by hypocrites.
Epics are full of lies,
written by oppressors
Romances are full of lies,
written by perverts..
These are full of truths,
we are led to believe.
09.08.2008

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The Work of Many Years

The work of many years
Lies in piles
Hidden from my care-
Years of effort
On pages most likely
Never to be read-
I don’t have the courage
To confront it
And try to save it all-
How much hope and effort did I give to those pages
No one will ever know?
How much of my life has simply been wasted
And will be thrown out in an hour as if it never were?

For years now I have been running away
From work done years before -
This poem too is a small escape
That will not save a single page
Of all I have done before.

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Tomb of Evrion

In this tomb—ornately designed,
the whole of syenite stone,
covered by so many violets, so many lilies—
lies handsome Evrion,
an Alexandrian, twenty-five years old.
On his father's side, he was of old Macedonian stock,
on his mother's side, descended from a line of magistrates.
He studied philosophy with Aristokleitos,
rhetoric with Paros, and at Thebes
the sacred scriptures. He wrote a history
of the province of Arsinoites. That at least will survive.
But we've lost what was really precious: his form—
like a vision of Apollo.

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From History We've Not Learned

Men crucified the one millions now worship more than two thousand years ago
Yet many men they are as cruel today and any compassion towards others they never seem to show
And the gifts of compassion and empathy to the special few belong
And many far too many seemingly cannot tell right from wrong
Two thousand and seven years ago Jesus Christ was crucified
And nailed to a timber cross on Calvary slowly and painfully he died
Yet we have not learned from human history and it does seem sad to say
That nowadays many decent people die in the foulest way,
The war supposed to end all wars did not live up to it's tag
Young people dying in war zones every day for God and Land and Flag
Before we learn the lesson of history how many more must die
War men mock the sacredness of human life and many wars based on a lie
It has been more than two thousand years since Christ died on Calvary
And from history we've not learned a thing that's how 'twould seem to be.

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Anonymity for history?

I do not want to be seen.

(Can you appreciate what I mean?)
I want to be invisible among the crowd,
not loudly laughing, not outstanding,
not too hushened, not too loud,
not the one with blue-burning eyes,
or the rabbit-in-headlights look of suprise;

I wish to engage with history....
so many things I desire to see
and to be
a part of them,
absorb them;
and I ask myself:

just when
will I take myself back to earlier London,
to Waterloo Bridge,
Londinium,
its Celtic heritage
vivid, burning
in my brain....

when will I see sights no longer, now,
the same...?

... Wander along to Pulcher's place, Isis;
-seal my memories
with your kiss upon my face,
(in 'that' place)
and a photograph,
and a wee ironic, captured laugh....?

When will I again walk over Ludgate Hill
-stretch my limbs through history, until
I feel as exhausted in mind as much as in body
as Classicianus must surely have been?


The forum and the basilica
ever, ever nearer, nearer;
Leadenhall Market;
and let us not forget
that kiss
to accomplish
the art of walking
whilst talking
whilst taking me, you, us
by tube, train, bus
through a physical and emotional journey
that must be covered precariously;

walking, talking.

Britannia Superior, is London
(York only acheived 'Inferior' :))
AD 200, or somewhere around...
and have my feet yet touched the ground?

No...

I beg to show
you, me, around;
there is beauty to appreciate,
and history, right up-to-date.

But Maxiumus, he of the Mint -
what would he think
now that our banks have sinned
in their modern mediocrity,
their impingement upon you and me
even now, as we traverse the complexity
of these ever-increasingly historical streets,
with a tossed-off smile to those we meet,
the epitomy
of modern courtesey?


(And yes; it comes so naturally.)

Sometimes I wish for anonymity,
for all of us. Not history.

And yesterday we made our history
in our joined anonymity;
we took our journey,
made our vows,
and through shared learning
made history 'now'.

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George Bernard Shaw

Swindon What will history say Burgoyne History, sir, will tell lies as usual.

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Quatrain #74 - Please tell us a true story of love.......

Please tell us a true story of love that will bring tears to the eyes
there are those who are sick of listening to so many damned lies.
Only the truth and love can touch and pierce one's heart
the effect of which is a re-awakening of the spirit in part.

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I Live In A City As Great

I LIVE IN A CITY/ AS GREAT

I live in a city
As great as holy as conflicted
As history itself
Many years have I lived here
And little have I written about it-
Much greater than me
Have written here Holy Books for mankind here-
Generations of Jews
Prayed to live here-
I have been blessed
The city will always be too great for me
But I hope to live here to the end of my life.

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A Celebrity

What attracts everyone's fancy
Makes them dream to be me
Is but my wellknownness
That denies me a life-
Enters the stage

Before i seem to enter;
An echo with a real voice
Like the truth of liars
Makes silence eloquent,
To whom all propose a toast

Despite a cold embrace
Or an adder's kiss
As if a stranger with whom
I'm forced to live...
In my own eyes not love light


Only history's finely cut lies.

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A Memorial

Canonised when dead, cannonaded when in life,
Lofty your thoughts that savour of content
But loftier the craftmanship
More congruent in symmetry
Than ever are our warring senses-
All in silent watch -martyr.

Not your lust of martyrdom but the sculptor's chisel
Leaves a living name. world wonder made.
Sad, Time and with it, centuries fail to see
Not light of fulfilment in your eyes
But hollow worn in stone,
History's daintily cut lies.

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The Somber night

Somber night,
grew us apart,
but the truth
of the world.

Is that we all are,
one unique Artifact
we make history
we make lies
but we realize
it no use
to pretend

The Somber night
makes us tired
sleep on guilt
which will make you a liar

Th tears of somber night,
grew us weaker
sky's eyes
warn me
to tell
or yell the truth

it is said
to set you free

Somber night
grew apart
new history
has been made

lies are old
and the truth renewls
my guilt of somber night.

4/8/2011

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Adult Realities

the tragedy
of many adults
lies in the killing
off of too many
childhood stages...

the tragedy
of many adults
is that they
have forgotten
the wonder...

belief and faith
of childhood
possibilities...


adult reality
should also
blend realism,
faith, hope
and acceptance...

when necessary,
and the will
to strive
to make
a better world...

adult reality
should also
never forsake
wonder
enlightenment...


wisdom
regener ation
written into...

contemplation
of miraculous
divine creation...


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Pitfalls of the Search

the mosaic of history,
too many missing pieces
unexplained,
too many labyrinths and cul de sacs

hindsight,
no less a hazy scene,
a mirage, a maze,
full of ghosts, phantoms and boasts,

learning from
blurred foggy events,
misted and distorted
full of ego reported,
,
slanted and transplanted
how is one to sift the true
from the false,
discern fact from faith

story saga, myth, legend and fable
told and retold in rhetoric so able
emotions and of drama
poetic and prose

relates and unreels
the history of what was

or might have been
let us assume
nothing, or much less
was true, accurate or complete

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The God Of Gasoline!

for every gallon of gasoline...
how many children killed?
how many families destroyed
by the bombs?
how many countries ravaged,
how many peoples left
to live in abject poverty?
how many of your own sons
sent to battle,
killed or maimed?
how much pollution in the air?
how many oceans defiled?
how much sea life squandered?
how many political lies told?
how much hatred spread?
how many fat cats getting fatter?
how many hours of work?

gasoline...
the god of food supplies,
transportation and jobs,
even the farm machinery...
the big trucks...
and how much of your check?

there has to be a better way!

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In Him, There Is Justice

Constant is the struggle, betwixt truth and deceit-
Whyest then do most tend toward belief
Of largest of lies, until same crumble before their eyes?
Why is that the world, for a time, believed your lies?

More to the point, what were your reasons for such?
Again, why would you stray from 'yourself' so much?
Is not our family's import above all else?
Why then would you leave Father, gravely wronged, by himself?

What was so important at the time and since?
Why also, would those better in the know, respect your nonsense?
How many mistakes, lies and omissions need be there-
For Justice to emerge out of the seeming thin air?

Says The Good Book: 'in Him, there is Justice'-
That said, soon shall we see, the edge of this precipice!

Maurice Harris,23 December 2007

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In My Imagination

In imagination the rights are few and famous,
Inside the triangle of many disorders lies a weapon
To make our message shine with love and minor actions.

In this season of joy we aptly remind ourselves
To keep a revolver on the further bench
So as to shoot the men of mighty age and skill.

In this reality, a goal has been achieved out of
The lingering fear, one felt a sensation of cool
Air, the very being has established a ruin and relish.

I have ascertained my age according to deeds,
Those doers in runny waters are watching,
Theirs is the food of the youth and innocence.

Sometimes a young sweetheart reigns on the obvious
And the mundane, to fulfill my sweet sounds
And the courage will fight for another night of fountains.

My image has relied on substances of the mice
Creeping in their holes, and they are ready to pry into life
Outside. Their relaxed being causes me to stir.

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Lonesome Tears In My Eyes

Oh baby baby baby,
Blues and sorrow,
And i love you tomorrow,
Just suit you just fine.
Oh baby baby baby,
Blues and sorrow,
And i love you tomorrow,
Just suit you just fine.
I can't forget that you told me
So many promising lies.
How must i forget these
Lonesome tears in my eyes?
You've broken my heart,
Gonna do it again.
And i can't forget
The spell that i'm in.
Can't forget that you told me
So many promising lies.
I'm a-trying to forget these
Lonesome tears in my eyes.
You've broken my heart,
Gonna do it again.
I can't forget
The spell that i'm in.
I can't forget that you told me
So many promising lies.
I'm a-trying to forget these
Lonesome tears in my eyes.
Oh baby baby baby,
Blues and sorrow,
And i love you tomorrow,
It'll suit you just fine.
Oh baby baby baby,
Blues and sorrow,
I love you tomorrow,
Just suit you just fine.
I can't forget that you told me
So many promising lies.
I'm a-trying to forget these
Lonesome tears in my eyes.

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Birthdays ahead

What shall happen?
Not thought over even
Many happiness lies in store
Birthday brings it on the fore

Fortune has to smile
One has to go ahead meanwhile
Happiness to self and for others
Responsibility to share and shoulder

If we take birthday as good sign
We must realize the facts and resign
It brings great sign of challenges
Demands great ability to sustain and manage

What can happen if you fail?
What can be takes as life to avail?
Merely passing of years as wastage
Not to take into account about age

Yet celebrate it with fun fare
As one day you may take steps and dare
You may think to go ahead and jump into fray
Make the headway with clean sweep and find the way

This is what mankind must thrive for
Engage self in worthwhile in tactics or
Stay still in touch with emerging scenes
Show the courage on field previously never seen

Nothing can happen if proper taken care is taken
Faith should remain firm and not shaken
Everything comes from right stubborn approach
The birthdays may prove decisive if thought as such

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