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Napoleon Bonaparte

What is history but a fable agreed upon?

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The History Of Tomorrow

I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of light
By dumping us in the dark with pits everywhere

I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of food
By asking us to chop several fire-woods to heat up a pot full of stones

I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of job creation
By making us slaves on our own soil

I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of education
By dumping us in dilapidated buildings without teachers

I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of accountability
By looting our treasury and asking us for yet another term in office

I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of safety
By leaving pot holes large enough to swallow countless accident victims on our roads

I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our bows and arrows
Would secure our future

I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of a country, a country with countless heroes
It’s the history of a country, a country with countless robbers
Robbers with fame
Robbers without shame
Robbers that we would roast with flame

© Adegbenro Adekunle Jacob

Tomorrow’s history is today. All world leaders must make real democracy work. They must be selfless. We must not wait until there is horror and terror before we learn. Nigerian leaders must shun CORRUPTION.

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We Agree

AndersonHoweSquireWhite
September 11, 2001
Answers never clear again
This turning of the page
This turn look away
There I took a left turning
Before I came of age
I agreed to let it out
I agreed to let it go
I agreed to turn around
I agreed to turn my face away
Danger is the most important
Fear you'll ever know
The transporting of refugees
The silent night is cold
And all the time
We looked around
As we were never told
But we agreed to let it out
We agreed to let it go
We agreed to turn our backs
We agreed to turn our face away, away
Thousands to the million
Sisters, grandmothers and more
It's not the feast we throw away
It's the way we close the door
Their silence deafens every sound
We try just to ignore
To waste their future freedom
We'll regret forever more
I believe in
I believe in
These are the days that we will talk about
I believe in
I believe in
One understanding what is real
If we are one
Then we are refugees
We are the prisoners of our own design
If we are one
Seen through the eyes of a child
We will perpetuate this song of love
If we are one
Seen through the eyes of a child
We will perpetuate this song of love
If we are one
Seen through the eyes of a child
We will perpetuate this song
Perpetuate this song of love
Now we build the bridges

[...] Read more

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We Agree

AndersonHoweSquireWhite
September 11, 2001
Answers never clear again
This turning of the page
This turn look away
There I took a left turning
Before I came of age
I agreed to let it out
I agreed to let it go
I agreed to turn around
I agreed to turn my face away
Danger is the most important
Fear you'll ever know
The transporting of refugees
The silent night is cold
And all the time
We looked around
As we were never told
But we agreed to let it out
We agreed to let it go
We agreed to turn our backs
We agreed to turn our face away, away
Thousands to the million
Sisters, grandmothers and more
It's not the feast we throw away
It's the way we close the door
Their silence deafens every sound
We try just to ignore
To waste their future freedom
We'll regret forever more
I believe in
I believe in
These are the days that we will talk about
I believe in
I believe in
One understanding what is real
If we are one
Then we are refugees
We are the prisoners of our own design
If we are one
Seen through the eyes of a child
We will perpetuate this song of love
If we are one
Seen through the eyes of a child
We will perpetuate this song of love
If we are one
Seen through the eyes of a child
We will perpetuate this song
Perpetuate this song of love
Now we build the bridges

[...] Read more

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Napoleonic Fable

A fable that’s agreed upon
according to Napoleon
is what we should call history,
but ascribe its mystery
to recollections that are wrong
of brief events stretched into long,
in contrast to the brief report
that should, like our own lives, be short.

About this poem’s serious moral
A good historian would not quarrel:
Your history, if you are able
to write it up, is just a fable.


Napoleon once asked rhetorically: “What is history but a fable that is agreed upon? ”

1/3/10

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Tom Zart's 52 Best Of The Rest America At War Poems

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

The White House
Washington
Tom Zart's Poems


March 16,2007
Ms. Lillian Cauldwell
President and Chief Executive Officer
Passionate Internet Voices Radio
Ann Arbor Michigan

Dear Lillian:
Number 41 passed on the CDs from Tom Zart. Thank you for thinking of me. I am thankful for your efforts to honor our brave military personnel and their families. America owes these courageous men and women a debt of gratitude, and I am honored to be the commander in chief of the greatest force for freedom in the history of the world.
Best Wishes.

Sincerely,

George W. Bush


SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III


Our sons and daughters serve in harm's way
To defend our way of life.
Some are students, some grandparents
Many a husband or wife.

They face great odds without complaint
Gambling life and limb for little pay.
So far away from all they love
Fight our soldiers for whom we pray.

The plotters and planners of America's doom
Pledge to murder and maim all they can.
From early childhood they are taught
To kill is to become a man.

They exploit their young as weapons of choice
Teaching in heaven, virgins will await.
Destroying lives along with their own
To learn of their falsehoods too late.

The fearful cry we must submit
And find a way to soothe them.
Where defenders worry if we stand down
The future for America is grim.

[...] Read more

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Black History Month

In January...
There they are making history.
In February...
There they are making history.
In March...
There they are making history.
In April...
There they are making history.
In May...
There they are making history.
In June...
There they are making history.
In July...
There they are making history.
In August...
There they are making history.
In September...
There they are making history.
In October...
There they are making history.
In November...
There they are making history.
In December...
There they are making history.

But...
It's nice to know
The shortest month of the year
Was chosen to celebrate
The great deeds of African-Americans!
However...
It is those LEAP YEARS,
That really have the blacks jumping for joy!

Note: 'Black History Month' along with other
works of interest can be found in...

*'MindPrints from Untouched Places-VOL I'*
~Now available online at a PC near you~

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Makin History

Tonight theres a magic that I cant explain
Tune-up and start the show all set now ready to go
This bands gonna really rock tonight
Steppin out upon the stage
Under those lights again
Were gonna shake the place tonight
They gotta new song high in the charts you know
You must have heard them play it on the radio
When that flat top starts that picking
Hear the bass drum start that kicking
The joint is really jumpin now
Ooh mama its so exiting to feel
That tension rising when they turn the house lights down
Its a strange kinda magic that never seems to age
Makin history
Makin history
Adding a new leaf to the story that is rocknroll
Makin history
Makin history
Playing a new beat to the glory
That is rocknroll
Rock on
They gotta new song
High in the charts you know
You must have heard them play it on the radio
Hear the start and the jumbo gibson
You dont know what youre missing if youre not
Painting the town tonight
Ooh mama its so exiting to feel
That tension rising when they turn the house lights down
Makin history
Makin history
Adding a new leaf to the story that is rocknroll
Makin history
Makin history
Playing a new beat to the glory
That is rocknroll
Makin history
Makin history
Adding a new leaf to the story that is rocknroll
Makin history
Makin history
Playing a new beat to the glory that is rocknroll
Mama its so exiting-oh oh
Dont you find the beat exiting

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The History of Now

The recording of culture is history;
but our culture is more than that.
It's the world of human action,
and the myths we make of the fact.

The recording of history is culture,
but our history is more than that.
It informs a hidden agenda.
Unconscious of motive we act.

It's the history of now, the history of now.
It's only the present that exists as endowed.
It's the history of now. The moment - KAPOW!
That knocks you right over and muddies your brow.

Through the prism of language, we know what we know.
We carry our baggage and stories of woe.
Victor and vanquished pride cannot budge,
the dead weight of hatred and ancestral grudge.

We fight our good fights with our hand on our heart;
the music is swelling as loved ones depart.
As sheep to the slaughter, the script cannot chart,
a course more ignoble: the propagandist's art.

The recording of history is culture,
but our culture is more than that.
More than the great individuals,
the scholars so love in their tracts.

The recording of culture is history;
but our history is more than that.
Not simple dates or statistics,
the full horror and gore still attracts.

It's the history of now, the history of now.
A strange contradiction that makes sense somehow.
It's the history of now, a mystery and shroud.
The past and the future: best fiction allowed.

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History Stones People.

History stones people.


They stoned Moses, David and Linclon,
history did that for all to see


Marbel and cement,
that's all it leaves behind
of a long changing life.


Great heroes of time,
fall under the mercy
of the sculptor's knife.


History stones faces,
in a way that would make
ecclestias cringe.
History stones feet,
in a way that would make
piligrims cry.


History stones life
to always stay fresh,
yet, what is life without
the sins of the flesh.


All the radical kids
get stoned
and never change
or even move a muscle.

All the sword raising warriors
history stoned
without blood in their veins.


You can see all the victims
that history stoned
when you walk in the park,
they got kings
and queens
hell, they even got Gods.


They are there captive

[...] Read more

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On Passing Cromwell Street

In Melbourne streets named in his honour though he does not warrant such fame
For he lived a life of dishonour yet he never felt any shame
For his crimes against the poor of Ireland the winners write the history they say
And historians are too kind to Cromwell the one who did awful things in his day.

He evicted the poor of rural Ireland those who only knew of poverty
And put them on the hard road to Connacht the victims of crimes against humanity
His army were thugs and not soldiers for they did things that soldiers ought not do
The winners always write the history though their version of history is often not true.

In Cromwell's time the winners wrote the history and the winners still write the history today
But for any crimes against humanity the winners too should be made to pay
But Cromwell and his army honoured for their crimes in Ireland against the poor defenceless poor
'Tis sad to think that one so unworthy of a place in history is secure.

To hell or to Connacht his catch cry he forced thousands of poor families on the road
To people who were penniless and innocent not one scrap of mercy he showed
Thousands of them died in the harsh Irish Winter when homelessness on them took it's toll
Because they were poor they were punished though their life circumstances beyond their control.

I think of the untruths of history each time I drive by Cromwell street
The history written by winners their history of lies and deceit
I say to myself they honour a tyrant and I struggle for to understand
Why they name a street after somebody who oppressed the poor of Ireland.

Andrew Marvell in verse glorified Cromwell but he was one who would not know
What Cromwell and his army got up to in Ireland in those bleak times centuries ago
But he only believed what they told him and they told him what he wanted to hear
History often written by unworthy people those who rule by terror and fear.

In Melbourne streets named in his honour his poor victims long forgotten and gone
Into the World of the forgotten but Cromwell's fame is living on
And the lessons we should have learned from history did not lead to a fair go for all
And the winners only write the story though the real truth they never recall.

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Ten Words Circularly

History is ‘Nothing to be done’; and Time passes circularly.
Nothing passes circularly: History and Time is to be done.
Time is circularly Nothing and History passes to be done.
History circularly passes Time and Nothing is to be done.
To be Nothing, Time passes and History is circularly done.
Nothing is to be done: Time and History circularly passes.
Nothing is History and, to be done, Time circularly passes.
To be is History; and Time done circularly passes Nothing.
Time is to be; and Nothing circularly done passes History.
Nothing passes History and Time to be done circularly is.
To be is: Nothing done circularly passes History and Time.

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I Have Decided

I have decided,
Im gonna live like a believer,
Turn my back on the deceiver,
Im gonna live what I believe.
I have decided,
Being good is just a fable,
I just cant cause Im not able.
Im gonna leave it to the lord.
Theres a wealth of things that I profess,
I said that I believed,
But deep inside I never changed;
I guess Id been deceived.
cause a voice inside kept telling me,
That Id change by and by,
But the spirit made it clear to me,
That kind of lifes a lie.
I have decided,
Im gonna live like a believer,
Turn my back on the deciver,
Im gonna live what I believe.
I have decided,
Being good is just a fable,
I just cant cause Im not able.
Im gonna leave it to the lord.
So forget the game of being good,
And your self-righteous pain.
cause the only good inside your heart
Is the good that jesus brings.
And when the world begins to see you change,
Dont expect them to applaud.
Just keep your eyes on him and tell yourself,
Ive become the work of god.
I have decided,
Im gonna live like a believer,
Turn my back on the deceiver,
Im gonna live what I believe.
I have decided,
Being good is just a fable,
I just cant cause Im not able.
Im gonna leave it to the lord.
I have decided,
Im gonna live like a believer,
Turn my back on the deceiver,
Im gonna live what I believe.
I have decided,
Being good is just a fable,
I just cant cause Im not able.
Im gonna leave it to the lord.
I have decided,
Im gonna live like a believer,

[...] Read more

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The Two Majors

An excellent soldier who's worthy the name
Loves officers dashing and strict:
When good, he's content with escaping all blame,
When naughty, he likes to be licked.

He likes for a fault to be bullied and stormed,
Or imprisoned for several days,
And hates, for a duty correctly performed,
To be slavered with sickening praise.

No officer sickened with praises his CORPS
So little as MAJOR LA GUERRE -
No officer swore at his warriors more
Than MAJOR MAKREDI PREPERE.

Their soldiers adored them, and every grade
Delighted to hear their abuse;
Though whenever these officers came on parade
They shivered and shook in their shoes.

For, oh! if LA GUERRE could all praises withhold,
Why, so could MAKREDI PREPERE,
And, oh! if MAKREDI could bluster and scold,
Why, so could the mighty LA GUERRE.

"No doubt we deserve it - no mercy we crave -
Go on - you're conferring a boon;
We would rather be slanged by a warrior brave,
Than praised by a wretched poltroon!"

MAKREDI would say that in battle's fierce rage
True happiness only was met:
Poor MAJOR MAKREDI, though fifty his age,
Had never known happiness yet!

LA GUERRE would declare, "With the blood of a foe
No tipple is worthy to clink."
Poor fellow! he hadn't, though sixty or so,
Yet tasted his favourite drink!

They agreed at their mess - they agreed in the glass -
They agreed in the choice of their "set,"
And they also agreed in adoring, alas!
The Vivandiere, pretty FILLETTE.

Agreement, you see, may be carried too far,
And after agreeing all round
For years - in this soldierly "maid of the bar,"
A bone of contention they found!

[...] Read more

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Dont Stop For No-one

Dont stop for no-one
And then it goes on
(repeat 3 times)
One day my father said to me
its time for you to leave,
But dont wait for me, its pre-destiny
Dont wait around for someone to believe in
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Just like moses waiting on the mountain
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Dont hang around in the babylonian gardens
You know, history dont stop for no-one
(? ) tourist attraction
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Dont stop for no-one
And then it goes on
(repeat)
Sometimes I told I must confess
To a life of tenderness
But I just repeat what he said to me:
dont close your eyes because seeing is believing
You know, history dont stop for no-one
(? ) child, fighting for a meaning
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Dont dream too long, its time to awake now
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Like sleeping lucy waiting for a kiss now
You know, history dont stop for no-one
I think you know the way its gonna go now
You know, history dont stop for no-one
From aztech kings to new york queens
And then it goes on

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The Rest Is History

Saw you across the room
Felt somethin stir inside my soul
Knew Id never be the same
Now that love had taken hold
Then when you touched me
There was no doubt
You unterstood what my heart was all about
And the rest is history
The story of you and me
For all eternity
The record will show
Well fill up the pages
Romance for the ages
There for the world to see
The rest ist history
Before we spoke a word
My heart told me you were the one
When you pressed your hand to mine
I knew my life had just begun
Like some old movie
Music filled the night
Lost held each other tight.
And the rest is history
The story of you and me
For all eternity
The record will show
Well fill up the pages
Romance for the ages
There for the world to see
The rest ist history
And the rest is history
The story of you and me
For all eternity
The record will show
Well fill up the pages
Romance for the ages
There for the world to see
The rest ist history
History ...
The rest is history.
The rest is history.

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History

That girl stole my heart
When she gave a kiss to me
She opened her arms
And she gave herself to me
That girl stole my heart
When she gave a kiss to me
She opened her arms
And she gave herself to me
I started to explore every possibility
Since she gave a kiss to me
The strength of her appeal
Lies in her ability
To keep a sense of mystery
She made my senses real
When she gave a kiss to me
She made the others history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
That girl stole my heart
When she gave a kiss to me
She opened her arms
And she gave herself to me
That girl stole my heart
When she gave a kiss to me
She opened her arms
And she gave herself to me
I feel like I'm the deal
Since she gave a kiss to me
It felt like electricity
Her lips gave me sensations
Full of authenticity
When she gave a kiss to me
Her kiss had such effect
'cos of it's simplicity
She made the others history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
The rest is history
It's all in the past
That girl stole my heart
When she gave a kiss to me
She opened her arms

[...] Read more

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Avoiding History

avoiding history is a family tradition,
draft dodging, missing wars, as far
back as my fathers go, I find
no soldiers, no warriors and also
no lovers. we don't write
in my family, we withdraw
our stories on objection, stop
telling them. we keep secrets.

I keep my own secrets and rarely
tell them, keep my truth
from coming back to hurt me.
I learn slowly but I learn well,
to keep my secrets, avoid history.
I avoided history by protesting war
and by refusing to marry.
I learned late, but I learned well.
your eyes tell your history, your belly,
in its soft geography, hints at mine.
I don't enlist, I avoid being drafted,
my bridges burn behind me.

I read history in the slope of her breasts,
her silence uses me in my telling.
I have many ways to lie,
using a sharp knife to separate
flesh from nerve, bone and tendon.
how many times have I undressed you,
hearing you tell me that I don't care
about anything, until you turn
away from me, turn on me, turn
to stone. I turn you over, exploring
history in the cleft of your ass,
touching with my hands but never
touching you, feeling alone finally,
shedding uniforms and telling stories.

lies return in the secrets I keep, hints
I cover with long explanations.
you come to me, naked, asking questions
and feel betrayed, telling me finally
that I don't matter and never
was real to you. I tell you
I was a soldier, that I fought,
and you lie to me by undressing yourself,
nakedness concealing your aims.

I read history in the curve of your thighs,
my tongue seeking your skin, seeking
you in your skin, tasting

[...] Read more

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You Tell Me Of Your Australian History

You tell me of your Australian history your ancestors were British and Irish pioneers
But your history in this Land is not an old history just two centuries and twenty years
And in time that may seem quite a long span though the combined life spans of three people nothing more
Your ancestors hardly were Aussies they came here from a distant shore.

The first Australians have lived in this Country for longer than most care to know
Their ancestors came here from Asia more than sixty thousand years ago
They are indigenous to this Country all others have links to elsewhere
Yet they still struggle for recognition and that to me seems quite unfair.

Dispossessed by the Northern invaders they never did get back their Land
And that they are now ruled by white people I find that hard to understand
You talk of the history of this Land as if it were only two hundred years old
But then suppose the history of the ancient Dreamtime by white people will never be told.

I was not even born in this Country which makes you more Aussie than I
And though I'm not Nationalistic or Patriotic my heritage I won''t deny
You talk of your pioneering ancestors but why talk of Human history at all
If the history of the first Australians you do not see fit to recall.

You tell me of your pioneering ancestors but one fact you tend to ignore
That they were not born in this Country they came here from a foreign shore
You''d swear by you the Human history of this Land was only two centuries old
But the true history of this great Country by your type will never be told

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Landslide

(john farrar)
Cold winds rarely blow
Here at the end of the rainbow
Guess its hard to believe
Id be willing to leave
Someone walked up behind me
Seemed to find me
I felt him standing there, I turned around and
Saw the face of an angel, I fell
It wasnt fair, it just wasnt fair
He took my heart, it was a landslide
You know it was a landslide
My head was saying this is the man
My heart agreed
My minor desires turned to major needs
My needs wont be denied
It was a landslide
Somehow Im thrilled by all he says
High on his campaign promises
I dont wanna come down
I dont wanna come down
But no promises he made me could persuade me
Like the loneliness that comes on when i
Try to go on without him
Try to doubt him
I confess, I have to confess
He took my heart, it was a landslide
You know it was a landslide
My head was saying this is the man
My heart agreed
My minor desires turned to major needs
My needs wont be denied
It was a landslide
Im in heaven when hes around
In heaven when hes around
And Im hoping that he might be
Feeling the same as me
Im in heaven, heaven
It isnt hard to see
He took my heart, it was a landslide
You know it was a landslide
My head was saying this is the man
My heart agreed
My minor desires turned to major needs
My needs wont be denied
It was a landslide
Im gonna tell everybody I see
Hes the only party for me
It really was a, it really was a
You know it was a landslide

[...] Read more

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Tale XVIII

THE WAGER.

Counter and Clubb were men in trade, whose pains,
Credit, and prudence, brought them constant gains;
Partners and punctual, every friend agreed
Counter and Clubb were men who must succeed.
When they had fix'd some little time in life,
Each thought of taking to himself a wife:
As men in trade alike, as men in love,
They seem'd with no according views to move;
As certain ores in outward view the same,
They show'd their difference when the magnet came.
Counter was vain: with spirit strong and high,
'Twas not in him like suppliant swain to sigh:
'His wife might o'er his men and maids preside,
And in her province be a judge and guide;
But what he thought, or did, or wish'd to do,
She must not know, or censure if she knew;
At home, abroad, by day, by night, if he
On aught determined, so it was to be:
How is a man,' he ask'd, 'for business fit,
Who to a female can his will submit?
Absent a while, let no inquiring eye
Or plainer speech presume to question why:
But all be silent; and, when seen again,
Let all be cheerful--shall a wife complain?
Friends I invite, and who shall dare t'object,
Or look on them with coolness or neglect?
No! I must ever of my house be head,
And, thus obey'd, I condescend to wed.'
Clubb heard the speech--'My friend is nice, said

he;
A wife with less respect will do for me:
How is he certain such a prize to gain?
What he approves, a lass may learn to feign,
And so affect t'obey till she begins to reign;
A while complying, she may vary then,
And be as wives of more unwary men;
Beside, to him who plays such lordly part,
How shall a tender creature yield her heart;
Should he the promised confidence refuse,
She may another more confiding choose;
May show her anger, yet her purpose hide,
And wake his jealousy, and wound his pride.
In one so humbled, who can trace the friend?
I on an equal, not a slave, depend;
If true, my confidence is wisely placed,
And being false, she only is disgraced.'
Clubb, with these notions, cast his eye around;

[...] Read more

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