Shecht and eat the Paschal lamb
Destroy the ‘no-gods’ of Canaan and Ham
Break the middle matzo, hide half away
Harbinger of a now-hidden day
Chew and swallow the bitters as a reminder
To treat the stranger amongst you kinder
_________________________________________
Notes:
'Shecht- means 'kosher-kill' an animal
'Paschal lamb' - one of the 'no-gods' of Egypt
'Canaan and Ham' - idolaters
Ham was Noah's son, ancestor of Egyptian Kings
Canaan was Ham's son
A breeze of super heated love the ancients called it
At the forth angle trumped up charges bemoan you
Twas a case of of an eagle eating a chic..... cry folly
Cry folly for Roy was as is his usual MO a by passer
How can you let her use you're premises yet no pay..
Are you Roi for real threatened the pistol service Bro
Yes you are our Bro Intelligence son is you're not..
Not uttered as Kaayan and by it a pointed index mark
Where did the fingerlings who abide by fingering... Eh
Leave a Mark that Roi now you have to be roasted..
The wheels of justice grind and groan in the mean time
Co-Optation has never been sur-judged as a justice means
In Esoteric font Roi Fold you're wings.. Let chics Be..
Who said you have to stay in the form of the Eagle
A Leopard you are an African Black Panthre' On My Mark.
Reflecting on Stonehenge
Ancient mysteries
Neolithic man left behind
Their enlightened thought suggests
heaven and earth are twin powers
harnessed through astronomy
Standing stones silent witness.
Sunrise, sunset, and solstice
Natural chronometer
heaven's perpetual pulse
Celebrations long since dead
Echoes muted
Excavations ongoing
hypothesis abounding.
Abiding mystery
What drove this undertaking?
How was knowledge obtained?
Science of astronomy
was remote truth for ancients
Removed from Sailsbury Plain
other henges' ~ Question why?
Reflect
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Joe Maverick
04/10/2021
Are we really disputing beliefs of the past
Evolution makes us think we have surpassed
Basic skills back then
We surely do transcend
But their abilities were amazing and really vast
rolling thunderheads
searing lightning scorched the earth
ancients cast bones
a carvery the sadistical it plough the salt on pewter it swords poles, rods,
it makes that satic it means a Conan, it twilight it scourges, it raid the emcamp it ask not
a baby humanity it ask not in eye, it had it gouged out
it asked the arm torn off it asked the nimrouiB Khan it asked it carried the a pole 50foot og long it made
it decapitated its own men women, child has thrown o'er these off a wall, 10s oh thousands
i sleuth it winds, it smouldered they ofh it made decapitated, a head oh a stick, do tell oh the inge
it taught og these own it asked oh me taught of the body og
women, i asked it Sorceri it Sargent it ask og me how is it the sticks, here is Herod, it me plough how we did meek it slaughtered
be me it taugh a central og it body part removal made a fistula
feed feel not it make of a feminine it made she, it stolen her it made i
me slouch a i a child is made a man, he Wilders the post
be k be known it hunted humanity it body become of apple
Are we really disputing beliefs of the past
Evolution makes us think we have surpassed
Basic skills back then
We surely do transcend
But their abilities were amazing and really vast
It's my last day with the old giants
In mourning I hike the lost trails,
sniffing the aroma of the bark,
that cinnamon of the forest
Under tepees of wood
in a membrane of shadows,
I stalk the earth, its mammal traces,
its elusive tracks,
to sit on a fallen log
where spiders macramé,
moss sloping to my knees
unaware of invisibles within,
grubbing in their tunnels
A lizard taps my foot,
responding, I muse to its touch,
my thoughts like Indian visions,
And when daylight mushrooms into night,
and an owl hoots from cedar,
I still sit with a lizard on my shoe
Huddled with the ancients of the woods
It's my last day with the old giants
In mourning I hike the lost trails,
sniffing the aroma of the bark,
that cinnamon of the forest
Under tepees of wood
in a membrane of shadows,
I stalk the earth, its mammal traces,
its elusive tracks,
to sit on a fallen log
where spiders macramé,
moss sloping to my knees
unaware of invisibles within,
grubbing in their tunnels
A lizard taps my foot,
responding, I muse to its touch,
my thoughts like Indian visions,
And when daylight mushrooms into night,
and an owl hoots from cedar,
I still sit with a lizard on my shoe
Huddled with the ancients of the woods
The Fermi Paradox: Where is everyone?
The Universe is nearly 14 billion years old say those in the know.
Enough time to populate our galaxy they say!
But is this really so?
The elements in our bodies were created in the stars,
blasted into space when they died and exploded.
How long did that take?
The elements then regrouped to form second generation stars to repeat the process.
How long would that take?
Finally enough of what makes our bodies was created.
Planets then formed filled with the materials to create life.
How long does that take?
How many generations of stars to make?
Our sun will die at 10 billion years of age.
It’s now 5 billon years old.
How many generations of stars were needed for us?
We just might be the first.
We just might be the ancients!
Disrobing the flesh of ancients
In a continuous hot pursuit
A growing embryo
Spreading into the ether
The ionized atmosphere
With contant cosmic outpouring
The last tenet
Of man's unbridled elite
Casting his instruments
Proding stardust for clues
Yet all analysis recedes
When a grand synthesis sweeps
A human life course
Forever resonating with the truth
I speak
Though words are far.
In the tongue of ancients,
Here shall I abide in love.
I sing
the birth of an infant
the ancient kingdom celebrates
gentle gift of life
man moved ahead
kingdom no more survived
families break up
new nuclear family
birth and death forever here
just seem to pass by
when death knocks on the door
realisation slides in
of the glory of ancients
a thousand sheddings
of my skin
finally
brought me into
the trajectory
of the maze
zooming
between
humanity's haze
ancients call to me
wanting to be set free
to fly along the wind
to swim in the azure sea
rising from my soul
they scream for release
in my blood they flow
the ancient songs of old
I brave their feircesome cold
to step
where they have stepped
a millena ago
primal drumbeats
deafen me
all around
their ghosts I see
rising from
death's black sea
imparting their wisdom
to those who seek (C)MJR
The ancients say:
“Beautiful, the evening clouds
Endless, the distant hills, blue upon blue, peak upon peak!”
But after the splendor of the sunset
shadow creeps in upon the land, cold, dark, heartless
and though one needs but wait until sunrise
for the dead, that is an awful long time.
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