Best Magellan Poems
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.
Philippines, my country of birth,
one of the countries in Southeast Asia.
It is an archipelago or group of islands,
with more than seven thousand islands.
Luzon, the largest island in the northern
part of the country, is where I was born
and where Manila, the capital is located.
Manila, the city known as Pearl of the Orient.
Magellan, the Portuguese explorer for Spain
claimed the archipelago in fifteen hundred
twenty one, named the islands Las Felipinas
or The Philippines, after King Phillip II of Spain.
Philippines was colonized more than three
hundred years, from fifteen hundred sixty five
until eighteen hundred ninety eight and ruled
under Mexico-based Viceroyalty of New Spain.
Manila was called Pearl of the Orient Seas
by the historian/Jesuit priest Juan Jose Delgado
in seventeen hundred fifty one for being a way
of sea transactions during Asian trade of goods.
However, in Jose Rizal’s poem “My Last Farewell,”
he wrote before his execution by the Spanish
government for rebellion through his writings,
he stated his country as Pearl of the Orient.
So, Philippines, the country and not Manila,
the city became known as Pearl of the Orient,
upon the discovery of his poem after his execution
in December thirty, eighteen hundred ninety six.
Philippines is known as Pearl of the Orient for
its strategic location in Asia, rich biodiversity or
different kinds of plants and animals, natural
resources and its natural beauty and splendor.
The Spanish Crown called it Pearl of the Orient
for the country was a precious source of spices,
other resources and trade of goods, even prior to
their colonization to acquire a share in spice trade.
Philippines’ natural gem is south sea pearls
and it is renowned for cultivating south sea pearls.
The famous pearl in the country, known as The Pearl
of Lao Tzu, was considered the largest known pearl.
The pearl weighed fourteen pounds, found by a
Filipino diver in nineteen thirty four and later, a giant
pearl, the Pearl of Puerto weighing seventy five pounds,
found by a fisherman, both discovered in Palawan Island.
No doubt why The Philippines is called Pearl of the Orient,
the two biggest pearls were found in Palawan, Philippines.
Isn’t that the most obvious, sensible reason? I wonder……
Well, what do you think?...... Just asking……
On such lovely mornings
I dive into you
Fingers probing
your ebony hair
Pausing along the sexy winding
curves of your ear
Winding the sacred trail
down along your shoulder
As you lie sleeping
I am Magellan
And
You are new country...
Eureka - a love song Tanka series
~ art by Edward Burne-Jones ~
It's a fair question:
as you smile that smile, you ask
how much I love you…
"You are constant as the sun
...and I am Copernicus"
As you close your eyes,
you ask how far I'd travel
to show I love you:
"Love, you are the seven seas
...I'm Ferdinand Magellan"
"Why do you tell me
I'm the apple of your eye?"
you wonder out loud.
I say, "You are gravity
…and I am Isaac Newton"
You furrow your brow
asking why I pursue you.
"It's simple", I say,
"you're 24 karat gold
…and I am Howard Carter"
You crinkle your nose,
"Why do you never give up?"
you ask me coyly.
I say, "You are a light bulb
… and I'm Thomas Edison"
You get somber and
ask if loving you is such
a good idea
to which I say "Eureka!"
… for I am Archimedes
written 29 Jan 2022
Written July 22, 2015
Hey Magellan
Land your ships on the shore
See what the natives have in store
Too bad
Nothing left to explore
The world's been found
Over and over
Before
Here the natives don't wield knives and swords
They're armed with computers
You're in their data store
See, they saw you coming
Before you left your shore
Just like I said, Magellan
Nothing left to explore
Mysterious, vast collection of stars
Intriguing your curiosity, no more than a marvelous band of light
Lighting up the inky sky of the night
Killing smaller galaxies, colliding into them and tearing them apart
Years grouped in billions go by as stars die and new ones are born
Whizzing around it are the Large and Small Clouds of Magellan
And it is huge, like a giant white whirlpool of light in the ocean of darkness
Years, 3 billion before its dramatic end, colliding with the Andromeda galaxy
At this harbor, I'm welcoming you as the moon in the middle of the mist
Even Victoria’s keel [1] takes some tears back home, the southern voices
All I want is thee unbinding hair stack pieces
But you said, “Something happened with Captain Magellan indeed”
Therefore I am that Lapu-Lapu [2]: Adventurer killer
Because love is fatherland I stand up for, until I wither
And a waiting has become grave for days in suffer
So are you: a poem I’ve wrote with tears
"Love is immortal," thou say to the tides at foreshore
Like a solitude staying at heart, never leave for sure
And we are the dawn body missing sunrise in pure
But I very sure that love is giving and never taking
So battle in Mactan [3] I heard as usual sad story telling
Then anchor’s elevated, another journey is begin.
[1] Sailing Ship of Magellan
[2] Tribe which winning a battle of Mactan from coalition army between Datu Zula and Magellan.
[3] A little isle in Philippines. Near from Cebu Island. The battle happened in 27 April 1521.
Ood
Is this sound
From not too far afield
Like mist
Between late dusk and early moonrise
Past quarter of six.
You might not know
It is something unforeseen:
Even as I collect the bad habits
I bear not to keep
Through my sobs, it is that screams.
Strange this is,
Of what I cannot name in the things I hear:
Noise of metals against metals, oft-rhymed sighs
And battle cries, each false note of guns and gongs I overheard: these be not
It.
Is it your footsteps
Of where seek?
Or the reek of its absence
Onto this shore of a bloodbath,
That, set my pulse to skip
Abeat?
Could it be my sweatdrops
Like hoofbeats
Pattering this tin shield
Time of the same?
Or, is it just my heart
Thumps against my ribcage
Which is almost,
But not quite, sharp enough to hurt
Whose beats howl
Nothing but your name?
Author's Note:
*gong - a large bronze disk, of Asian origin, having an upturned rim, that produces a
vibrant, hollow tone when struck, usually with a stick or hammer that has a padded head.
P.S The poem is inspired by the Battle of Maktan in 1521
between the Spanish conqueror: Ferdinand Magellan and the fierce Datu of Maktan:
Lapu Lapu.
Vacuum of space surrounds his hold
as he leaves the fair Cappellan
Darkness without and bitter cold
he seeks the far Magellan
How far he travels in search of gold
wrinkles line his star tanned face
Shouting I AM the adventurer bold
no echos resound in space
Silence answers he is alone
darkness whispers its tragedy
the tanned faced turns to bone
an endless voyage on an endless sea.
Off Terra Firma sixteen weeks now.
My legs take roots; my eyes become infinite.
Past the Tropic of Cancer, the Lesser Antilles.
Talk of brown skinned girls, Purple Clouds of Magellan.
The Southern Cross peeking above the horizon at 18N°.
Those first few nights I stared at the wrong stars in my
confident knowing. A seabird landed
on the gunwale and mocked me, “Sunk now are your
North Star and Great Bear.”
“Sunk now are your North Star and Great Bear.”
I unlock an ancient mystery.
You take shape like a paragon in the sky.
Four beaming stars agleam forming the points of a cross.
Climbing higher and brighter. To be steered upon due south.
By Terra Del Fuego, you are directly above. Your language is universal.
Taking up our stern till we sink into the El Salvadorian night.
i am the man who weeps for the world
i am the man who weeps
i do not, I will not
bleed for the world
i’m not the one who bleeds
little sister, my love
do not dry your eyes on my account
i am a fleeting consolation
i have been
to the ends
of the world
i have seen
the great emptiness (it lies)
on the other side of that horizon
Christmas at Grandma’s
over the river and the thru the woods
it’s damn cold out here even with our hoods
the horse knows the way but he tends to sway
if he drops we won’t be getting away.
next year I will get a two horse sled
it’s not fun with one horse almost dead
so we jingle the bells and secure the straps
laughing all the way with some peppermint schnapps.
oh what fun it is to ride to grandma’s house we go
bringing lots of gifts and a ho ho ho
hope she tossed out her old ragged apron
had to be worn during the Magellan exploration
joy to the world we are finally getting here
came with crackers and some silent night beer
few sips of that and you’re out for the night
too bad, you won’t see Rudolph so bright
oh come all ye faithful to the big hearty dinner
stuffing is homemade , grandma’s prize winner
cranberry sauce running over the sides of my plate
hope when the turkey is carved it won’t deflate.
Hark the angels, the food is being served
grandma sure knows how to stay well preserved
so many years we travel the path for yuletide
we don’t see her often enough due to the great divide.
well dinner is over and the bird won’t squawk no more
looks like it stepped on a mine before hitting the floor
we gathered around the same old rustic tree
must have been made during the war at sea.
Gifts were passed out and grandma served the eggnog
had to be spiked, felt I was in a fog
the walls were rotating with visions of strobe lights
the tabernacle chorus sang Halleluiah & O’ Holy night.
this was the most wonderful visit all these years
I snuck out with three bottles of her secret cheers
grandma, thank you for the wonderful time
we’ll be back next year with another rhyme
Horatio Magellan Crunch, sails the seas
Captains a ship called the Guppy
Was born "on Crunch Island in the Sea of of Milk
He's also know as...
Cap'N Crunch
3/24/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2018©
Inhaling bold
magenta skies,
Magellan tangerine winds,
lucid sunlight,
sumptuous wheat.
Divergent arms,
like a wheel,
spinning adventurous
cords of gold.
Precarious needle
might pierce my finger,
causing me to bleed,
to curl up in a ball
and fall asleep.
I’m not afraid!
I trust Him who
~ spun each star ~
covered in
~ scarlet yarn ~
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
They said she sails forever the seas off Cape Horn:
See her and wish to God you never was born.
Laugh if you wish but there’s countless bones
And hulls been sent to the locker of Davy Jones.
‘Twas a fair wind and the seas were at rest;
Then a sudden heave and press of the water crest
Off Magellan Strait, and the storm’s fury grew,
Plunging down our craft and our crew.
As we bore away hard to the west, our ketch
Near to tatters, our topsails astretch,
Another ship massively built
Came out of the storm right at us full tilt.
No warning from the masthead or in the shroud
Just blue sparks of St Elmo’s fire as she ploughed
Towards us, with rope’s creak and flag’s snap over her deck’s teak.
No voice from deck soundless, no bosun’s pipe to speak.
Bell rings in her roll but for whom does it toll?
Cabin doors bang and slew, moonbeams slant through the hole.
The rigging sings an eerie song and waves slap her prow,
Trying to wake this sleeping scow.
But her bowsprit pierced our maindeck,
Then her mizzen cut across our quarter deck,
While her mainmast sliced through our foresail
And her rigging overwhelmed our fo’c’sle.
Water in scuppers bubbles and foams
Light in her cabins blazes for men with no homes,
Tiller fixed, wheel motionless, thru the grey haze’s dullness -
A craft crewless, homeless, hull-less.
Our ketch seemed to shudder and lose her rudder -
I thought that the spectre had wrecked her:
Storm died down immediately she slipped thru thus
And there was no sound and no damage to any of us.
In pathless depths that abound in the sound, (‘tis my belief),
On a rock or reef where you’d come to grief,
In shoals and shallows where souls become hallows,
Such an unfathomed phantom has no fellows.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Entered in Debbie Guzzi’s Contest Tell Me a Story