As I travelled, the earth seemed round
Now it turns out flat
I’ve become a lurked homebound
Or something like that
I fell for a big mistake
Immigration police went mental
Claimed my bank account was fake
And I dream to settle
In their land of milk and honey
Living secretly
And most likely begging money
Quite vehemently
So I lost my interest
In rounding the earth
No more plans to be a guest
Of the hosts ungenerous
And I couldn’t get to you
Dear love of mine
Now it seems that we both knew
That our truth’s in wine.
Grow strong but remember your roots,
explore the world yet seek what is still.
Moment to moment find what suits.
When we let go and tumble downhill,
those hard rolls ignite that inner core.
Nurturing soil brings a spiritual refill.
With just one taste left wanting more,
mastering rules bosses stacks wins.
Don’t aim simply to even the score.
Fly a little bit higher lifted by flat-spins,
embrace the past as you shed old skins.
Nature is filled with such perfect views,
there’s no beach day that has a twin.
Wispy versions of the waves
transform to mavericks
with a coming storm.
Feast of whitecaps
plays so hard
then falls
flat.
The champions of flatness,
stand alongside the rotating lunacy,
assert to protect the earth’s edges
from the domination of roundness.
They congregate paradoxically in rings,
proclaim that the curvature is a delusion,
gravity is a hearsay in critical conspiracy
of circular minds caged within a sphere.
The horizon stretches along horizontal line,
marks the perimeter of the planar world,
beyond which the clouds disappear into abyss,
the basin holding the contained oceans.
At the frozen fringes of the flat atlas
lies the great ring of the ice walls,
the boundary keeping the world from falling
into the celestial silent nothingness.
You say you think the earth is flat.
Please let me have your proof?
When they fly to the moon and look back,
They can see for sure that it’s round.
But I forgot; that won’t convince you,
For space flight’s a conspiracy too.
So tell me, if the earth is flat,
What stops the oceans from running away?
If you walk to the edge, what keeps you safe?
Did somebody build a retaining wall?
No, science has proved you have it wrong
And though I don’t wish to cause offence,
When I think of your Flat Earth Society,
I have serious doubts about your sobriety.
.They think they've got us neatly fooled,By global maps and globes in school.But look outside, it's plain to see,The ground is flat as it can be.If we were spinning out in space,We’d all be flying off the place.The water would just spill right out,Of every lake and water spout.And don't get started on the moon,Or NASA’s giant space balloon.They hide the ice wall at the edge,With penguins guarding on the ledge.It’s just a giant dinner plate,No spinning core or heavy weight.So drop the math and look outside,There is no curve for them to hide.
they can't slip one past me
intellectuals, smarty-pantses
I know what my eyes can see
it's ninth grade geometry
good thing pilots and sailors know
the top of the earth is flat
I'm not sure about the bottom
where the roots hang through
on top, there's a hemisphere
that's where you see the sun and moon
why don't they bump?
only God knows
9th grade geometry works on a flat surface
Horace Greeley said it
go west like Magellan
circumnavigate the world
you end up in the same place
you avoid the edge
where monsters be
you've gone in a wide circle
I live in the center of the world
and cut a smaller circle
only thing I haven't figured out
what keeps the ocean water
from draining off the edge?
The trees looked chocolate against the marshmallow snow
My eyes were downcast my mood was low
It seemed I was in a game of whack a mole
clobbered whenever I popped out of a hole.
The snow was hard packed, the sky was dark blue
I felt old despair though it all seemed new
Strong sun in the sky, cool air in my face
But memories followed like a dog on the chase.
(chorus)
Dark blue light, shine through the seam
Between the man I am and the man I've been
Live day by day, step by step
Harsh to remember, but mustn't forget
I took the side trail to Wilson Park
A sycamore tree stood with spotted bark
Its massive twisting arms were bare
It almost glowed against the air.
Above soared a lost sea gull
Outside was sharp, inside I was dull
My past hung on like an undead corpse
Couldn't tell it to leave, tell it to divorce.
Can't find a resounding excuse, just pieces
Can't explain to my nephews and nieces
Can't drag a reputation out of the mire
And burn it in a purifying fire.
Does it matter where I was framed?
Scavengers divebombing on the shamed?
Some lies were told, but facts remained
Much damage done, much honor stained
My Valentine, to me is a moon bright,
Though her flat nose is a bit to the right.
And her chin a bit wide,
That she tries hard to hide,
After all she remains my shining light.
FLAT EARTH VS. GLOBAL
I don't believe the earth is flat
I'm not a scientist but it's a sure bet
That no matter how far one travels
No one has fallen over the edge as of yet
I often wonder if the flat earth society
Have memberships around the globe
How would they explain that phenomenon
The truth would sooner or later unfold
My sister and brother in law
Regularly hike the "Abby grind"
I'm sure when they are climbing, the flatness
Of the earth is not prominent in their mind
Though the flat earthers have some very good points
Like the earth is 71% H2o
Maybe in a sense it is flat
Because it's not carbonated, we know
When I was in school we learned the earth is round
But I'm from Sasatchewan, born and raised
And my world is definitely pancake flat
That's the situation here, that I've appraised
DJC Dec 23/25
Isaiah says “In my defense
I was talking about circumference.
Another hint the Caelifera company
As God looks down anthropomorphically
He doesn’t look down omnisciently
In this case He sees as a man would see
From that bird’s eye view, I mean
He sees the panoramic scene
If the heavens are a curtain or a tent
On an orb can you spread out, stretch or extend?
How can the sins be removed as far as east is from the west
If these cardinal points ever meet the promise can’t be kept
Yes the earth is God’s footstool
It’s where He rests, the back of the fool
And a footstool has a flat surface
It’s not round on top or curvaceous
I want to make this appeal
As Job did to the common weal
As God in Scripture did reveal
As to the impressed clay from the king’s seal
It is the LORD who sits upon the flood
But it’s to its entirety that He sits that gets the nod
It’s a Head East album for God’s sake
The earth's face is as flat as a pancake
P.S. Let us remember that there is an ice fence
That surrounds all of the earth's contents
I rhyme for coins,I rhyme for fame,
But landlords rhyme with none of the same
They want rent,not metaphor
They say'' your poem won't mop the floor.
I wrote a sonnet,soft and brave-
He mailed it back: ''Pay or Pave!''
So now I rhyme to save my head,
My muse sleeps hungry, my landlord's fed.
Stan’s Chevy van had a flat.
"Where is the damn spare at?"
Stan cursed at the tire,
Letting loose his ire.
Poor Stan and his van had a spat.
All of my life, I have had "flat feet".
A mild defect, I am no athlete!
I could never run fast,
got so easily gassed.
How I longed to have feet that were fleet!
When I was young, I wore leg braces,
orthotic boots, with long boot laces.
When I tried to run and jump,
I looked like young Forrest Gump
and saw snobby looks on kids' faces.
The Cat in a Hat
sat on a mat
(the mat was flat)
when
Pat a bat
who was fat
(a flying rat)
chasing a gnat
(the gnat went zzzat)
dropped in
(splat!)
for a chat
(what a brat)
but
(tit for tat)
was told to scat
imagine that!
(Moral of the story: Uninvited unwelcome)
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