Professor Hapgood’s studies on ancient maps were fixed
Einstein said his theories should be added to history’s mix
Perhaps it proved too big a leap for other minds to take
But his ancient culture findings, Hapgood would not forsake
6000 BC, before Egypt’s pyramids were built
Millennia before Pompeii’s lava had been spilled
Or small fishing boats hugged the Mediterranean Coast
And Columbus’s “daring” voyage was not even close
Ancient seafarers drew with astounding accuracy
Maps of the world they once knew, the fishermen’s legacy
Antarctica sans ice and closer to the equator
The Mid-Atlantic Ridge once an above-sea sky scraper
Siberia touching Alaska with no Bering Strait
(Palin could have seen Russia without snow from her back gate)
Cuba, England, Sweden, too, on these maps appear clearly
But Sweden’s fully glacial; England’s blanket an ice sheet
If we believe Hapgood, a civilization once thrived
Thousands of years before language; maps keep memories alive
Technology to chart the seas was lost in ancient times
With latitude and longitude measurements quite refined
Sea kings’ cities may have succumbed during the last Ice Age
Surviving nations lost their skill when history turned a page
Geography to be found again when the Earth had healed
“Discoverers” reinvented the forgotten ship’s wheel
Magellan, perhaps not the first to sail around the globe
Admiral Byrd not the first man to visit the South Pole
Spirits from a colony of seafarers can be found
From deep beneath Antarctic ice, they try to spread the word
But laugh they must as scientists forecast global warming
And man attempts to alter life and heed their dire warning
Shifting poles? Natural cycles! Men would be well advised
To study the maps Hapgood found and open their closed minds
To learn more about Professor Charles Hapgood’s map studies and the comments made by
Albert Einstein, you can visit http://www.crystalinks.com/crustal.html.
French trader Tavernier in a greed-inspired way
Glared at an idol of a temple in Mandalay
Prying a gem from its eye socket, a curse prevailed
Tavernier died bankrupt soon after making the sale
Louis XIV bought the stone, 1668
A gift to his mistress, Louis had it cut heart-shape
For dabbling in Black Magic, this madam was burned
A century passed with the curse’s power unlearned
The diamond was then bestowed on Marie Antoinette
For wearing it with boastful pride, Marie lost her head
She lost respect from the commoners of her nation
This gem has since been linked to the French Revolution
Cut far smaller, the gem resurfaced, 1830
When a London banker bought the rock of infamy
Henry Thomas Hope survived; the curse appeared to break
For 70 years the Hope Diamond’s wrath lay in state
A Hope heir’s marriage collapsed; his wife evoked the curse
As she foretold, subsequent owners’ fates would be worse
French broker Jacques Colot went mad, suicide his road
Sultan “Abdul the Damned,” insane after being deposed
Then to an American the Hope Diamond was sold
Washington Post owner Maclean watched horrors unfold
Other household members died, but it was Maclean’s son
Ten years old, struck by a car, his Dad’s mind came undone
Ultra-light ray tests caused the mystery diamond to glow
With safety in mind, Hope’s eerie stone found a new home
It remained locked on display in the Smithsonian
Could it be to blame for all that’s wrong in Washington?
Tragedy also tied to raiders of King Tut’s tomb
Perhaps lessons can be gleaned from those who met their doom
Robbing temples, burial sites, outcomes always bad
Greedy souls’ quests for wealth can leave them totally mad
So don’t expect me to purchase a diamond in the rough
Considering this gem’s history, a sandstone’s quite enough
I never knew following dreams could be this lonely,
But up on the hill, looking back, thank God I'm not the old me.
If the tears will fall, let them be;
I believe this is God's plan, follow your dreams.
There’s torture of the body
And the torture of the mind
But the torture of the heart
Is the most horrendous kind.
To know you must not express
The wealth of emotions felt
To have to suppress the dream
Is to burn until you melt.
You are careful of each word
And you laugh despite the pain...
It’s torture to be in doubt
If his love can keep you sane
To know it can never be
For you’re lost inside love’s maze,
To accept it’s a lost cause
Is to set the heart ablaze
Torture is a painful thorn
That your little heart impales
It won’t stop till you’ve bled dry
You don’t dare to voice its tales
He is near enough to touch
But his heart is worlds away
Can torture be worse than this?
No, the rest is just child’s play
Does everybody feel the same as I do?
Lost? Adrift? Disconnected? Confused?
Does anyone know how to ease the hurt of truth
For the accuser, as well as the accused?
I've heard there's bliss
Found somewhere in ignorance
For those who have been stripped
Of their already fleeting innocence
So I continue to move through this life
Practiced smile, that doesn't quite reach my eyes
Which instead reflect the emptiness
That fills me up inside
It hurts to feel so alone and uncertain
Consumed by doubt and fear
Eventually life becomes a burden
Damaged beyond all repair
The temptation to numb all sensation
It more powerful than one might believe
I'll sacrifice the pleasure, to relieve the devastation
As passion gives way to apathy
Say whatever you want
About those who dwell on the past
Go ahead and judge me from your moral soapbox
While you cower behind your mask
The opinions of most matter very little to me
It won't be taken to heart as you intend it to be
First you'd have to practice the words you preach
If you ever do then I promise I'll start listening
An orange little ball,
Tattered and torn to bits,
No longer does it fly straight,
Its course lost, its path in fits,
An orange little ball,
Sad within its cracks and in its creases,
Faded bumps, its lost its grip,
It now falls to pieces,
Orange little ball,
Come to death smiling,
Never live just to die,
Happiness lives in and amidst the crying,
Orange little ball,
Wipe the tears away,
There is peace to be found,
In and amongst the fray.
In the mist of life, I have found myself
lost and alone in a wood dark and gray.
A chill to the bone, a fall to the depth
a longing to feel the warm rays of day.
There was but one road which ran to a church.
There was many roads that ran far in the wood.
Like a fool I have run past Elm and Birch
this lost road turned to a trail where I stood.
A dark cloud now forms a narrow cold sky
a wind from the North, which blows coastally.
My choice brings no answer only a sigh
it made years ago and so willfully.
Weary am I of a life on this path
wishing to visit my option again.
Fearing my Lord or fearing His wrath
I backtrack this road but only in vain.
Before me a puzzle of rock and stone
reaching far back before a road in time
planted me deep in a mist with no tone
searching for a life, that I could call mine.
This narrowing track turns back on itself,
the undergrowth soon will stand in my way.
In the mist of life, I have found myself
Lost and alone in a wood dark and gray.
An empty room was the scenery to his death
Not a single living soul was present to witness the events that took place
A sliding door covered with a mirror spoke back to him with his own reflection words spoken and breath
A change he saw in the playful mirror, he had a different face
A broken heart powered his spirit, a spirit that had lost all sense of direction
Fake, selfish to the heart he crawled into his path
All along yearning for his fathers attention
A feeling that he never met, for he was truly lost in the yearning of affection
Anger flowed in his heart
Hope was locked up, it wasn't free always it had a bail
He never truly mean to harm anyone, yet the ones closest to him felt it all, saw his spirit fail
Alas all was lost, his family, his dreams slapped him awake, awake to his reality in part
All alone, at the bottom of the pit
His heart was bleeding and not a soul around to aid him, he fell to his knees
With his heart in his hand, reaching for the sky, he asked Jesus to take his heart and dwell in it
An ugly howl of the mind with the spirit and soul all at one, gasping for air, for life he said "please"
Shattered, his all, he was nothing but dirt with dirt
His eyes blinded by the endless tears could not see the sky, a beautiful night it was
He asked with all his mind, heart and spirit to be forgiven for his past, for his fault for his flaws
At point zero he blacked out, he died
In his death he saw a light, brighter that the sun itself, it blinded the heart
A presence he had never felt before came over him, yet there was no fear
Pleaing to his understanding, he knew it was good, and that shortly he would awake from his sleep
Wrong, for the light drew closer and it even spoke, at the words that vented into him, he did weep
A sense of security, of purity overwhelmed his body
Afraid he was not, for His Lord was the light
In the beginning, from the very start He was there to guide him into life herself, teaching him how to fight
Darkpoet died that night, but a new being was born! In the name of Jesus Christ, he was called Jeremiah
-God, father I have been seeking you all my life,
Here I am Lord to serve You, My King.
Jeremiah I shall be, to write for You Father.
Jeremiah Eduardo Orozco
There on that bench, here in this park
Was where I met God, alone in the dark.
He wasn’t adorned with riches galore.
He was a pauper man, not needing more.
He sat with me then, as I was so scared.
Just eight years old, and I got lost at the fair.
Separated from family, didn’t know where to go
I sat on the bench and waited there so.
Along came this man, scared of him I was
Until he sat next to me, I lost fear because
He spoke with a tone and offered a hand,
A sign to me that he would understand.
I told him my story. He said not to fear.
He’d stay with me until family was near.
I felt reassured and safe as could be.
His warm soft voice, it blanketed me.
Then in the distance, my dad had appeared.
He was right all along, I had nothing to fear.
My dad came up crying and hugged me so tight.
I then turned to that man to wish him goodnight.
He was there on the bench, I knew it for sure.
When I turned my head, he wasn’t there anymore.
I looked at my dad and told him of my tale
He smiled back at me and fell awfully pale.
He said, “Son when you need him, God does appear.
It’s not very strange that He was right here.
He serves and protects and loves us all much.
I believe He was here and gave you His touch.”
I was amazed at those words that my father said.
I couldn’t wait to go home and pray at my bed.
“Dear God up in the Heaven, I thank you, I do.
You sent me a savior and that savior was You.
You reached to this child, protected this night.
You offered him hope and provided light.
You took away his fear and made him feel warm.
Mostly, Dear God, you kept him from harm.
Out in the distance thunder rolls
the wind it howls like poor lost souls,
The rain it pounds like angry fist
across the land it falls like mist.
Inside this house I sit alone
I've lost my power, internet and phone,
While outside the storm continues to rage
not stopping for an eternal age.
Nature does what nature will
we have no control over it still,
it seems so very awful funny
we can't control it with all our money.