Historical Poems
#historical
Historical poems, poetry about the past. Poems inspired by, and offering analysis on, important events in history.
missjem56
Poem Published
22nd Sep 2021 1:43am
22nd Sep 2021 1:43am
Dove Cottage
I wonder
How William Wordsworth
Would of coped
If he'd been born
150 years later
Whilst musing over daffodils
As an electric strimmer
Cuts them down
Lopping off their trumpet heads
Whilst chainsaws cut through
Screaming trees around him
Hedge-trimmers
Hoovers
Or spin dryers
Noise
Surely would of affected
His poetic thoughts
Although i contend
That baaing sheep,
And the mooing of cattle
May of caused his brain to rattle
I wonder if Dorothy snored?
From what i saw ...
How William Wordsworth
Would of coped
If he'd been born
150 years later
Whilst musing over daffodils
As an electric strimmer
Cuts them down
Lopping off their trumpet heads
Whilst chainsaws cut through
Screaming trees around him
Hedge-trimmers
Hoovers
Or spin dryers
Noise
Surely would of affected
His poetic thoughts
Although i contend
That baaing sheep,
And the mooing of cattle
May of caused his brain to rattle
I wonder if Dorothy snored?
From what i saw ...
#technology
#funny
#historical #WilliamShakespeare
#historical #WilliamShakespeare
396 reads
0 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
21st Sep 2021 4:00am
21st Sep 2021 4:00am
Ellis Island of the Mind
Ellis Island of the Mind
My wife was the bride of a thousand woes
who wore her blouse for modest memories
that gathered under cotton clouds
of smoke and tears.
Her body was a diary written
in sanguine ink to be legible
for the blind who read
the Braille of her heart
where the broken thorns
of her past are embedded
in her soul forever.
Her immigrant eyes dreamed in tears
of her bubbie who told her
about tea houses in the neighborhood
called Little Russia on the banks
of the Hudson River
where...
My wife was the bride of a thousand woes
who wore her blouse for modest memories
that gathered under cotton clouds
of smoke and tears.
Her body was a diary written
in sanguine ink to be legible
for the blind who read
the Braille of her heart
where the broken thorns
of her past are embedded
in her soul forever.
Her immigrant eyes dreamed in tears
of her bubbie who told her
about tea houses in the neighborhood
called Little Russia on the banks
of the Hudson River
where...
#wife
#family
#memories
#historical
#nostalgia
352 reads
9 Comments
Calamityofgin
Poem Published
21st Sep 2021 3:17am
21st Sep 2021 3:17am
The miniature mechanics of Antikythera
It was a curiously rendered thing
Touching even,
To witness it being held in a hand
Cradled
As if in an infancy
In a palm capable of collapsing around it
And crushing it
An object
Who’s delicate nature and unique charm existed somewhere
In its childhood permanence
It would never change
And forever remain
A beginning
From deep blue
And alabaster apparition
It had been taken
The bottom of sand beaches screamed for their loss
Their depths had never seen the cosmos ...
Touching even,
To witness it being held in a hand
Cradled
As if in an infancy
In a palm capable of collapsing around it
And crushing it
An object
Who’s delicate nature and unique charm existed somewhere
In its childhood permanence
It would never change
And forever remain
A beginning
From deep blue
And alabaster apparition
It had been taken
The bottom of sand beaches screamed for their loss
Their depths had never seen the cosmos ...
#historical
507 reads
6 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
18th Sep 2021 3:59am
18th Sep 2021 3:59am
Tenement Artist
Tenement Artist
Sunflower Kachina seeks a way to blossom
On seventh-floor tenement hall
Finds Hopi artist whose canvas
Is an elemental being
Whose earthen wind meanders
In the desert of gypsum light on fire
With the parade of a thousand torchbearers
On their way to a land beyond tears
Whose path gathers sunken treasures
Buried deep in the sands of clockwork
Where ancestral bones form antiquarian deeds
For excavators of lullabies
From remembered dreams
Sunflower Kachina seeks a way to blossom
On seventh-floor tenement hall
Finds Hopi artist whose canvas
Is an elemental being
Whose earthen wind meanders
In the desert of gypsum light on fire
With the parade of a thousand torchbearers
On their way to a land beyond tears
Whose path gathers sunken treasures
Buried deep in the sands of clockwork
Where ancestral bones form antiquarian deeds
For excavators of lullabies
From remembered dreams
#dreams
#art
#historical
#poverty
#surreal
359 reads
5 Comments
missjem56
Poem Published
16th Sep 2021 10:07pm
16th Sep 2021 10:07pm
Hastings Beach Boathouses (circa 1822!)
Beach residents of a different ilk
The council once tried to milk
To fill their coffers, and fill their bag
In protest the residents, hoisted the American flag
The council now, were somewhat irate
As the beach was now, an American state
The beach party revolted, against their persecution
In 1822, began their American revolution
The floundered Galleons, were now upside down
Forming a part, of the America Ground
As the flag flew high, the banners' star spangle
It's shadow now cast, over the Trinity Triangle
...
The council once tried to milk
To fill their coffers, and fill their bag
In protest the residents, hoisted the American flag
The council now, were somewhat irate
As the beach was now, an American state
The beach party revolted, against their persecution
In 1822, began their American revolution
The floundered Galleons, were now upside down
Forming a part, of the America Ground
As the flag flew high, the banners' star spangle
It's shadow now cast, over the Trinity Triangle
...
#historical
#nonfiction
246 reads
3 Comments
missjem56
Poem Published
14th Sep 2021 9:58pm
14th Sep 2021 9:58pm
A Mouse Called Periwig (Musings)
I saw a mouse
Where?
There in your hair
WHAT?
It wasn't wearing clogs
Sorry, i forgot
I wonder if clogs were commonly around
Back then
When?
That time when big wigs
Were in vogue
Bigwigs?
Back in Georgian times
When mice were oft
Found within wigs
Are you on something?
Should i be?
Lucky i didn't mention the rats
There was me thinking
Rat hair was just knots
I wonder historically
About crabs
Don't even go there
Goodnight!
by Jemia
Where?
There in your hair
WHAT?
It wasn't wearing clogs
Sorry, i forgot
I wonder if clogs were commonly around
Back then
When?
That time when big wigs
Were in vogue
Bigwigs?
Back in Georgian times
When mice were oft
Found within wigs
Are you on something?
Should i be?
Lucky i didn't mention the rats
There was me thinking
Rat hair was just knots
I wonder historically
About crabs
Don't even go there
Goodnight!
by Jemia
#animals
#funny
#historical
262 reads
1 Comment
dartford
Paul S...
Paul S...
Poem Published
13th Sep 2021 11:47pm
13th Sep 2021 11:47pm
why she left
she said she was bored going out with me. I suggested we spent the night in ..
#girlfriend
#historical
447 reads
1 Comment
rainy_day13
Poem Published
13th Sep 2021 3:37am
13th Sep 2021 3:37am
Caligula
when he was a boy
Legionaries teased him
calling him little boots
while laughing it up
knowing one day soon
he'd rule over all of them
his plan for revenge was
removing their tongues
with a house full of enemies,
father was left for dead and
the women were imprisoned
Caligula lived but with bad luck
raised by his father's killer,
he felt hell in his...
Legionaries teased him
calling him little boots
while laughing it up
knowing one day soon
he'd rule over all of them
his plan for revenge was
removing their tongues
with a house full of enemies,
father was left for dead and
the women were imprisoned
Caligula lived but with bad luck
raised by his father's killer,
he felt hell in his...
#dark
#MentalHealth
#historical
631 reads
28 Comments
archie23
Poem Published
9th Sep 2021 11:55am
9th Sep 2021 11:55am
That's what I got
This is a fictional situation about an individual
who is on the brink of suicide.
He holds his (HER) gun to the head,
waiting to point their middle finger
at the world as they pull the trigger.
They are alone.
They are in this alone.
They do not pull the trigger.
They keep the middle finger down.
---still alive---next scene---archie23
Read poems by archie23
who is on the brink of suicide.
He holds his (HER) gun to the head,
waiting to point their middle finger
at the world as they pull the trigger.
They are alone.
They are in this alone.
They do not pull the trigger.
They keep the middle finger down.
---still alive---next scene---archie23
Read poems by archie23
#fiction
#scary
#LifeAsAWriter
#mystery
#historical
262 reads
0 Comments
The_Silly_Sibyl
Jack Thomas
Jack Thomas
Poem Published
7th Sep 2021 9:06pm
7th Sep 2021 9:06pm
Stories My Dad Tells Me
1
I like to tell my dad’s stories.
They’re much more amusing than mine,
given that he sailed in
the 1970s,
a Naval engineer.
He served with Prince Andrew.
Who was as thick as Corgi dung
to a point where you couldn’t
hold a conversation.
The instructor would threaten
to kick his head in
if he didn’t pay attention
and learn.
One night in the bar
a drunken sailor
walked up to the Prince and slurred:
‘ow you pull so many birds?!
An officer grabbed the man
and threw him out wholly, ...
I like to tell my dad’s stories.
They’re much more amusing than mine,
given that he sailed in
the 1970s,
a Naval engineer.
He served with Prince Andrew.
Who was as thick as Corgi dung
to a point where you couldn’t
hold a conversation.
The instructor would threaten
to kick his head in
if he didn’t pay attention
and learn.
One night in the bar
a drunken sailor
walked up to the Prince and slurred:
‘ow you pull so many birds?!
An officer grabbed the man
and threw him out wholly, ...
#love
#family
#memories #historical
#memories #historical
302 reads
3 Comments
The_Silly_Sibyl
Jack Thomas
Jack Thomas
Poem Published
5th Sep 2021 10:57pm
5th Sep 2021 10:57pm
Burke and Blades in: The Palaeolithic Problem
I
The country house of Lady Helen Winthrop was a modest affair, if your idea of a modest affair is six months in Paris with more damned whores and sodomites than you can shake the Old Testament at. Not a corner was spared some souvenir picked up by Lord Winthrop at some exotic period, including an early contraceptive device used by Cleopatra, which Lady Helen insisted be covered with a sheet. Detectives Burke and Blades, newly reassigned to the Linear Violations division of Scotland Yard, were visiting Winthrop Manor about one of the Lord’s recent adventures. The gentleman’s...
The country house of Lady Helen Winthrop was a modest affair, if your idea of a modest affair is six months in Paris with more damned whores and sodomites than you can shake the Old Testament at. Not a corner was spared some souvenir picked up by Lord Winthrop at some exotic period, including an early contraceptive device used by Cleopatra, which Lady Helen insisted be covered with a sheet. Detectives Burke and Blades, newly reassigned to the Linear Violations division of Scotland Yard, were visiting Winthrop Manor about one of the Lord’s recent adventures. The gentleman’s...
#funny
#ShortStory
#historical #scifi
#historical #scifi
334 reads
2 Comments
Mookie
Poem Published
4th Sep 2021 6:31pm
4th Sep 2021 6:31pm
A childhood in Portsmouth
Driving through the streets of Portsmouth
Each stop a new memory of the past
Growing up in a vast expanse of fun to explore and devour
Sea front to cycle along, the greenest grass to run and play
Schools, shops, houses, memories, memories and so much more
Sat on the sea front, looking out at the wild exciting sea
A sea that is so alive
Today we are alive
Today we are living
Memories…
Each stop a new memory of the past
Growing up in a vast expanse of fun to explore and devour
Sea front to cycle along, the greenest grass to run and play
Schools, shops, houses, memories, memories and so much more
Sat on the sea front, looking out at the wild exciting sea
A sea that is so alive
Today we are alive
Today we are living
Memories…
#historical
6 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Historical Poems
