The Fall Of The Mayan Empire
They slashed and burned the forests
To support their growth of crops
They farmed land till the topsoil
Was by the rains washed off.
The Mayan population
Grew malnourished and then died
And the mighty Mayan empire
Then slipped slowly out of sight.
This farming's being repeated
In rainforests the world wide
Why can't we learn from history?
Why can't we get it right?
poem by David Keig
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We Remain In Cemented Disbelief
Mayan texts were burned.
Egyptian monuments,
Were tampered and disfigured.
The Chinese were first to map the seas.
And we remain in cemented disbelief,
With a recreated history...
For purposes to deceive.
And Africans?
Well...
Who does not know,
They were the original kings and queens.
While those who are native of these shores,
Were quickly erased...
To be replaced.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Maya....maya....mayan.....maya
MAYA …..MAYA…..MAYAN…..MAYA
Thank God, you had not
made me something different
and allowing me to express freely - even
to speak ill of you boldly
watching all events, but very silently
showing your might only selectively - yet, surely
but, one thing I am unable appreciate
is your habit of putting true devotees to harsh tests
someone is spreading, that your count-down has begun
(by 21 Dec.2012) as per the much acclaimed Mayan calendar
to destroy this Universe as a measure of punishment
if such is the case, please tell me secretly in advance
Taking now shelter, ………I would emerge
.........as the first batch of ‘new settlers' ELSEWHERE.
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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A finite world can support only a finite population; therefore, population growth must eventually equal zero.
quote by Garrett Hardin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Disaster Will Be Beckoning Soon
December 21st Two Thousand and Twelve,
We will see the Earths demise,
Into Mayan history we must now delve,
As it's to us their prediction applies.
Astrology and myth were prevalent then,
Very much the same as now,
For power and greed they had a yen,
My God they paid for it and how.
Lavish buildings and luxuries for some,
Built and paid for by the lower class,
The privileged ate steak and the worker the crumb,
This system was nothing but crass.
Fellow Human Beings being treated like dirt,
By the rich who were but a few,
Discarded when ill like a worn out shirt,
Like today it's nothing that's new.
On class distinction their culture was based,
This concept was doomed to fail,
Greed and corruption had to be faced,
Eventually it had to derail.
Their prediction's a warning not an ominous sign,
Our planet will come to and end,
If we heed the comparisons we'll all be fine,
Life's not about how much we can spend.
Already the publishers are out in force,
Telling us we're all going to die,
To them it's a money-making resource,
Truth is the whole thing is a lie.
When it doesn't happen what will they say,
Will they admit they got it all wrong,
Give refunds to those who gave up their pay,
No your naivety they'll try to prolong.
Worlds end predictions come and they go,
To date everyone of them's failed,
When it finally happens I doubt if we'll know,
At least the doom merchants will finally be curtailed.
Like the Mayan hierarchy they are morally corrupt,
They are up to their eyeballs in debt,
The capitalist volcano is about to erupt,
These parasites are our biggest threat.
Like the Mayan rulers they've no self- control,
Life to them is spend, spend, spend,
What we're left with is a bottomless hole,
This year it must come to an end.
Unless we heed what the Mayans said,
Our world will be torn apart,
Civilisation will surely lie dead,
The corrupt will have torn it apart.
All cultures on Earth will feel the pain,
Not one of us will be immune,
If from greed and corruption the rich don't refrain,
‘' Disaster Will Be Beckoning Soon ‘'
Not a doomsday but a boons-day
Mayan Prophecy – The doomsday
I do not know
How many of you watched
And came across
Programs and
TV clippings on the above
Mayan prophecy
Indicates that
21st (some say 23rd) December 2012
Will be the day
For the beginning of a new era
And it means
The present era will end
All pertaining to that will perish
I, you, everyone and everything around
Will not be there
After that fateful date in December 2012
If the above prophecy is true
How do you plan your departure?
I have some suggestions
Let us all resolve that
We will extend love
To everyone and everything around
We will put aside all
Much extended future plans
And focus only on living happily
These remaining days
With whatever we have
And whatever we can earn
We will be healthy throughout
Till the time the
Vital blow of doomsday hit us
We will not grudge or complain
We will remain honest and sincere
And not nurse any ulterior motives
In any thing we choose to do
We will garner all our
Strengths and potentials
Direct them to achieve
Common good
We will not harm anyone
Nor think in terms of hurting any
“No need to be smart any longer
As we all are soon to be smarted by nature”
Should be our understanding
And guiding value
In all our actions and deeds
If we could do all that
The day will not really be
A doomsday
But a boons-day
As we would have understood by then
Our worth and purpose
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Karmic Payback
I was a Mayan warrior in a past life
I cut off your head with my knife.
It was the Spanish Conquest of Yucatán
and changed the Guatamalian life around
I died young while protecting my homeland
you died from my strong hand.
Since then you came back
to even the score of my attack.
Now that I know
I see why you were a foe.
So karmic payback is complete
I forgive you, do you forgive me?
Written by Christina Sunrise on November 21,2012
www.suzae.com www.suzaria.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Bible, Franz Kafka And Mayan Popol Vuh
Drinking wine, because the
wine is for the spirit, eating
bread, because the bread
is for the flesh of the body,
needing to be alive, needing
to be able to use the words,
all the words belonging to
God in the moment that ''God
said, Let us make man in our
image, '' as Bible says.So,
The Lord gave us the words,
as a great gift.So, we are
drinking wine and we are
eating bread to be with Him,
because without Him, our words
may become silence. Moreover,
we may be unable to use them,
we may ''turn into monkeys'' as
Mayan Popol Vuh says. Who really
knows how many kinds of species
talked? Why did the serpent talk with
Eve? Did the serpent belong to a
talking specie? What Kafka really
wanted to say in his ''Metamorphosis''?
I understand that we can die all and
we can be created again by Him,
The Great Creator. The Darwin's theory
of evolution and Mayan theory of
involution may be false, but the
power of God is true. All I really know
is that we need to be good people
and really faithful to be existent.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Repeated
HISTORY IS ALWAYS REPEATED AND SOMEONE IS ALWAYS CHEATED THE CAT DIED OF COURIOSITY WHY NOT ME THEY SAY THE MOSS ON A TREE CAN SEE HISTORY IS A STORY OF THE PAST A STORY THAT IS REPEATED YEAR AFTER YEAR DAY AFTER DAY
HISTORY IS HIS STORY AND HER STORY ALWAYS REOEATED ALWAYS THE SAME
poem by Kairy sauerwein
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Now Im A Farmer
Ive got a spade and a pick-axe
Ive got a spade and a pick-axe
And a hundred miles square of land to churn about
And a hundred miles square of land to churn about
My old horse is weary but sincerely
My old horse is weary but sincerely
I believe that he can pull a plough
I believe that he can pull a plough
Well Ive moved into the jungle of the agriculture rumble,
Well Ive moved into the jungle of the agriculture rumble,
To grow my own food
To grow my own food
And Ill dig and plough and scrape the weeds
And Ill dig and plough and scrape the weeds
Till I succeed in seeing cabbage growing through
Till I succeed in seeing cabbage growing through
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
How calming and balming the effect of the air
How calming and balming the effect of the air
Well, I farmed for a year and grew a crop of corn
Well, I farmed for a year and grew a crop of corn
That stretched as far as the eye can see
That stretched as far as the eye can see
Thats a whole lot of cornflakes,
Thats a whole lot of cornflakes,
Near enough to feed new york till 1973
Near enough to feed new york till 1973
Cultivation is my station and the nation
Cultivation is my station and the nation
Buys my corn from me immediately
Buys my corn from me immediately
And holding sixty thousand bucks, I watch as dumper trucks
And holding sixty thousand bucks, I watch as dumper trucks
Tip new yorks corn flakes in the sea
Tip new yorks corn flakes in the sea
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
How calming and balming the effect of the air
How calming and balming the effect of the air
Now look here son
Now look here son
The right thing to say
The right thing to say
Isnt necessarily what you want to say
Isnt necessarily what you want to say
The right thing to do
The right thing to do
Isnt necessarily what you want to do
Isnt necessarily what you want to do
The right things to grow
The right things to grow
Aint necessarily what you want to grow
Aint necessarily what you want to grow
Your own happiness
Your own happiness
Doesnt necessarily teach you what you want to know
Doesnt necessarily teach you what you want to know
Well Im suntanned and deep, sos the horse
Well Im suntanned and deep, sos the horse
And my hands are deeply grained
And my hands are deeply grained
Old horse is a-grazing, its amazing
Old horse is a-grazing, its amazing
Just how lazily he took the strain
Just how lazily he took the strain
Well my pick and spade are rusty,
Well my pick and spade are rusty,
Because Im paid on trust to leave my square of cornfield bare
Because Im paid on trust to leave my square of cornfield bare
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
How calming and balming the effect of the air
How calming and balming the effect of the air
When you grow what I grow
When you grow what I grow
Tomatoes, potatoes, stew, eggplants ...
Tomatoes, potatoes, stew, eggplants ...
Potatoes, tomatoes ... gourds
Potatoes, tomatoes ... gourds
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We need to continue to decrease the growth rate of the global population; the planet can't support many more people.
quote by Nina Fedoroff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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World War Three
When war broke out
the sky grew dark
the silence gone
the mountains stark
The air glowed red
the armies marched
the front lines died
the land grew parched
When fallout cleared
the sun shone bright
the land was seared
a lonely sight
All life was gone
forever lost
no reason to fight
they paid the cost
-Written at 17
poem by Poet Dragon
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The Tree of Liberty
WE’LL PLANT a Tree of Liberty
In the centre of the land,
And round it ranged as guardians be,
A vowed and trusty band;
And sages bold and mighty soul’d
Shall dress it day by day:
But woe unto the traitor who
Would break one branch away.
Then sing the Tree of Liberty
For the vow that we have made;
May it so flourish that when we
Are buried in its shade,
Fair Womanhood and Love and Good,
All pilgrims pure shall go
Its growth to bless for happiness—
O may it flourish so!
Till felled by gold as bards have told,
In the Old World once it grew,
But there its fruits were ever sold
And only to the Few:
But here at last, uncurs’d by caste,
Each man at Nature’s call
Shall pluck as well what none may sell,
The fruit that blooms for All.
By gold ’twas felled as bards have held
In the Old World where it grew,
But here the power that there dispelled
Its life shall be its dew:
The evil bout of Time is out,
And gold no more a thrall,
Shall here but build for Truth and gild
The fruit that blooms for All.
Then sing the Tree of Liberty,
And the men who shall defend
Its glorious future righteously
For this all-glorious end—
That happiness all men to bless
Out with its growth may grow—
Our Southern Tree of Liberty
Shall flourish even so!
poem by Charles Harpur
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From History We've Not Learned
Men crucified the one millions now worship more than two thousand years ago
Yet many men they are as cruel today and any compassion towards others they never seem to show
And the gifts of compassion and empathy to the special few belong
And many far too many seemingly cannot tell right from wrong
Two thousand and seven years ago Jesus Christ was crucified
And nailed to a timber cross on Calvary slowly and painfully he died
Yet we have not learned from human history and it does seem sad to say
That nowadays many decent people die in the foulest way,
The war supposed to end all wars did not live up to it's tag
Young people dying in war zones every day for God and Land and Flag
Before we learn the lesson of history how many more must die
War men mock the sacredness of human life and many wars based on a lie
It has been more than two thousand years since Christ died on Calvary
And from history we've not learned a thing that's how 'twould seem to be.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Two Gods
‘Twas in the spring, two Gods gazed down upon the bright new land,
And one was Hope and one was Fear, and Hope it was who planned
This nation with its beauty and its wealth would surely be
The shining light to all the Earth - this was the God's decree.
But Fear it was who scratched his chin and begged to differ there,
Said he, that he would wager it would all end in despair,
And Hope took up the wager, for he was true to his name,
At stake the new land's fate, as Hope and Fear began the game.
And through that spring, the nation thrived, as sailing oceans wide
Came people from the worn out lands, where hope had all but died.
They cleared and built and farmed and tilled and made the country bloom.
They left, in far divided lands, dark thoughts of hate and doom.
Hope smiled at his companion but Fear's face showed no concern;
Still all went well, and soon to summer saw the season turn.
The cities grew, the country thrived, they battled drought and flood.
In foreign wars, sometimes in vain, spilled of their best their blood.
But built unique a people proud, united in their quest,
To not allow the old hatreds, to only choose the best.
No creed that would divide them, would they in this place allow;
They knew the course of history, their stance they would avow.
Then autumn came and Hope remained, but near, a nagging Fear.
The two gazed from the firmament, they heard the people jeer.
The calls to scrap the old ways, and embrace the new found truth;
Abandon hope and vision now that doubt and fear were sooth.
The old ideas like gilded leaves from wisdom's tree must fall,
As all around from ivory towers rang out the strident call,
And right across the land there spread a dark and mouldering cloud,
And those who shouting warnings soon were trampled by the crowd.
The old ways were all wrong - the cry of wreckers seeking power,
As winter's cold winds start to blow comes on the final hour,
And Fear smiles wide at Hope, and to him slowly shows his hand,
And in his palm, with sinking heart, Hope lays the promised land.
poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
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O! The Sacred Land
O! The Sacred Land,
May ever fall, flow melodious cascades,
Flourish your deep valleys, green glades,
And may time erase the streak of divisions,
Of caste, of creed, of sects and grades.
O! The Sacred Land,
May upon your face flowers ever bloom,
Till the world goes on, till the day of doom,
And may He secure, protect your treasures,
Cast away winds of pain, clouds of gloom.
O! The Sacred Land,
May sweet sun ever shine upon your land,
The rains ever pour upon your thirsty sand,
May your children live the life full of bliss,
While going ahead supporting hand in hand.
O! The Sacred Land,
May you ever progress by leaps and bounds,
And ever vibrate with the melodious sounds,
Your valleys, your plains and forests green,
Your lofty mountains, your hills and mounds.
O! The Sacred Land,
May God thrive your village, city and town,
And He wrap them all with heavenly gown,
Of love and faith, of peace and patience,
And rule the world wearing the golden crown.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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I Sowed for Sorrow
In my inner grove, I sowed for sorrow.
Oh, how it grew below my skies,
such marvelous sight in my eyes.
I lived for sorrow -
till it grew too large in my grove,
I wept;
and watered my sorrow with tears.
I sowed for sorrow till it lived
and grew so strong, so fine.
It lived to take away my life...
It lived and then I died.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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So High
(traditional - arranged by elvis presley)
Well, hes so high (so high you cant get over him)
So wide (so wide you cant get around him)
So low (so low you cant get under him)
Great God almighty (you must come in at the door)
Oh well, hes high (so high you cant get over him)
Hes wide (so wide you cant get around him)
So low (so low you cant get under him)
The mighty lamb (you must come in at the door)
Well I went down in the valley
You know I did over there ever stay
My soul got happy in the valley
You know I stayed right there all day
Well, hes high (so high you cant get over him)
And hes wide (so wide you cant get around him)
I know hes so low (so low you cant get under him)
The mighty lamb (you must come in at the door)
Well I aint been to heaven but im, Im told
The streets the streets are pearls
You know the mighty mighty
Mighty gates are gold
And hes high (so high you cant get over him)
So wide (so wide you cant get around him)
Hes so low (so low you cant get under him)
The mighty lamb (you must come in at the door)
Well, hes high (so high you cant get over him)
And hes wide (so wide you cant get around him)
I know hes so low (so low you cant get under him)
The mighty lamb (you must come in at the door)
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Wish Is For A Perfect World
The World might well be different if religion and patriotism
died
And if mistrust and greed died with them there would be peace World wide
But with these four still prevalent what hope for harmony
And what hope for love and tolerance for all humanity.
That the clergy bless the troops for war seems hard to understand
To go and throw their lives away for religion and land
That man should kill his fellow man not written in God's will
The fifth commandment clearly state the words 'thou shalt not kill'.
Intolerance, greed and mistrust all of these go side by side
With lust for land and religion and patriotic pride
All these have given rise to wars and yet we've failed to see
The mistakes our fore fathers made nor learnt from history
I am not condemning religion in case you get me wrong
And I have great respect for those who worship God in song
But when religion lead men to war 'tis there the wrong come
in
For wars are caused by ignorance where winners cannot win.
And as for patriotism that has the strangest ring
Of the noble men who died in war the ballad maker sing
They thought it the great sacrifice to give their lives for land
But the most who lived to reap the gain never took gun in hand.
And as for greed and mistrust of those what can one say?
For human self enlightenment I hope to see the day
For all human beings have good in them or so 'twould seem that way
But some can't reach their higher self and somehow go astray
It's up to every individual to live good as they can
To make this world a better world for family of man
To learn more about tolerance and live in harmony
My wish is for a perfect world but that may never be
poem by Francis Duggan
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ERIS and DYSNOMIA
Darker side of Christ Child and Mary
This unholy mother and lawless child
Speed now toward beleaguered Earth
To repeat a Great Cycle, before exiled
(Mayan and Hopi prophecies fulfilled)
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Become Food!
your hand on the wheel,
Mayan bolt nonwithstanding...
where do we go from here?
my fingernails still dirty,
from digging and planting the seeds.
your eyes cloud over...
the promise of rain?
another chapter finished,
boots laced, and my hat,
your smile, a cup of coffee...
the dog waits at the door.
the mailman passes without slowing down.
the world keeps turning,
from dawn to setting sun.
and seeds become plants...
plants become food!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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