All Beguiling
The crocodile is smiling,
life is all beguiling while
reading the true story of
the greatest cataclysm to
shape our civilization
Moses, Tutankhamun and
The Atlantis Myth, told in
ACT OF GOD by Graham
Phillips - crocodile in pink
with magic wand in purple
On the crocodile computer,
affixed to the screen; purple
fairy wings bewitching the
rest of the office also
This is a day of magic, the
crocodile found a book on
the crumbling foundations
that shook our civilization…
Graham Phillips “ACT OF GOD” 1998 Pan Books
poem by Margaret Alice
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Mysterious And Mythical
Found a new book in the library - Act of God
a story of cataclysm, Tutankhamun as well as
Atlantis in which detective Graham Phllips un-
covers extraordinary events - thank heaven,
a mysterious Egyptian tomb, just what I need
to add oomph to my quiet existence
I live my life in my head, when reading material
becomes scarce I am in dire straits; a discovery
to give meaning to my days on earth which seem
to be such a useless material illusion; only third
thoughts & inner narrative imperative create new
lines combining historical events
In symbolical significance, being devoted to all
things spiritual, I am delighted by everything
mysterious and mythical
Act of God - Tutankhamun, Moses & The
Myth of Atlantis - The True Story of The
Greatest Cataclysm to shape Civilisation
By Graham Phillips, Pan Books,1998
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Joy & Pain We Caused
Chapter nine: Cataclysm - reading with
bated breath, too many facts to take in,
storyline developing, who can ever prove
one hypothesis more true than another -
only matters that conjecture is presented
coherently
The single criterion is the quality of ideals
formulated by a civilisation; though attempts
to carry out dreams demeaned by avaricious
minds; wonderful that people of integrity still
chase ideals, wondering how these dreams
came into being
I think relativity - time & space interwoven,
divine supernatural intervention as natural
law in manifestation - a conscious energy,
aware of all simultaneously, scattered clues
picked up by receptive minds - I love all
forms of ideals
From the Mabhabarata's advice on living a
moral life - Buddha's reverie under a tree -
a Hindu revering a pantheon of gods; glad
to be introduced to many religions in all
their beauty; quantum physics explains
infinite possibility
Anything can be made true by faith, no more
angry, jealous gods - but benevolent energy
providing abundantly, free choice determines
what we accomplish, in life after death we
experience all the joy and pain we caused
unto others - and
That is quite enough…
Act of God - Tutankhamun, Moses & The Myth of Atlantis -
The True Story of The Greatest Cataclysm to shape
Civilisation - Graham Phillips, Pan Books,1998
p.207 - 298
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Bored with TV
Bennie bought a baby crocodile
and took it home in a carrier bag.
He let it roam about the house,
but the crocodile made him sad.
When they watched T.V. together
tears fell from the crocodile’s eyes.
He thought his friend was unhappy
and this made poor Bennie cry.
He carried it to the vet’s clinic
and told them about his fears.
They told him that it was natural
for crocodiles to shed tears.
Feeling relieved and much happier
they sat to watch T.V. again.
The crocodile went to the bathroom
and flushed himself down the drain.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Crocodile's Toothache
Oh the Crocodile
Went to the dentist
And sat down in the chair,
And the dentist said, 'Now tell me, sir,
Why does it hurt and where?'
And the Crocodile said, 'I'll tell you the truth.
I have a terrible ache in my tooth.'
And he opened his jaws so wide, so wide,
That the dentist he climbed right inside,
And the dentist laughed, 'Oh, isn't this fun?'
As he pulled the teeth out, one by one.
And the Crocodile cried, 'You're hurting me so!
Please put down your pliers and let me go.'
But the dentist just laughed with a Ho Ho Ho,
And he said, 'I still have twelve to go --
Oops, that's the wrong one, I confess.
But what's one crocodile's tooth, more or less?'
Then suddenly the jaws went snap,
And the dentist was gone right off the map.
And where he went one could only guess...
To North or South or East or West...
He left no forwarding address.
But what's one dentist more or less?
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Crocodile
Crocodile
No you wont make me jealous
That she left me for him
Scene one standing
Crushed on landing
You may have walked out
But Ill swallow up my fate
Scene two sitting
Man in kitchen
Bit cold and lifeless like
The burger on my plate
But theres one emotion Im afraid of
Hear him scratching gently to be fed
I cant stand it when he sits there smiling
I dont want him nesting in my head
Crocodile
No you wont make me jealous
That she left me for him
Get away
Crocodile
No you wont make me jealous
Im not letting you in
Scene three lying (through his backteeth)
Speared and dying (bitten beneath)
Ill crawl the wall to hand there
Skinned and stuffed with drink
But theres one emotion Im controlling
Green eyed monster with his jaws spread wide
(but hes your pet now
You cant run away and hide)
I cant stand it when he sits there crying
I dont want to throw myself inside
Crocodile
Getaway
(crocodile
With the jaded jealous smile)
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I put a bullet into the back of the crocodile's neck just behind the head, thus killing it. If a crocodile is hit in any other part of its anatomy it disappears into the water and is irrecoverable.
quote by Louis Leakey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life Becomes An Experience Of Wild Delight
I’m convinced that the karma I have to carry,
laid upon me by the Western heritage while
being born in Africa, where maize is the staple
and I’m allergic up to suffocating; is the result
of negative levels of consciousness inherited
from many previous lifetimes living in abject
misery – now is my chance to raise the vibrations –
this crocodile-mind driving me to seek knowledge
and information at the speed of a Grand Prix,
might help to raise my state of consciousness
From its normal level of three, where life seems
meaningless, through level four where life seems
futile at times, to level five with its bubbly feeling
of happiness; and level six – the magical state where
life becomes an experience of wild delight - I have
to acquiesce to the Nile-Crocodile and its anti-social
demands; when Alice wants to go out and socialize;
when Cinderella dreams of beautiful gowns, pumpkin
coaches and footmen; the Nile-Crocodile simply
says no; when the little Alien comes down
From the rafters and demands to have some fun -
the Nile-Crocodile threatens to eat him; the crocodile
mind insists upon seeing the physical world as a
wooden illusion of Maya; saying that masked people
playing charades are wearying beyond expression;
that a good book is the only thing between the
crocodile mind and reptilian suicide...
poem by Margaret Alice
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On The Blackberry Tree
On the black-berry tree
I have left my lungs and heart
On crocodile's back
When I started my journey
in to the sea.
I have not show my
Disregard to anybody
Surrounded me
And my co-villagers
All support me
And the crocodile
Never seen as before.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Ascend (rev.) 20/11/09
The crocodile spirit drowns soul in
fantasy to release its mind from gloom
but magic claims a price, allergy grows
worse as the spirit breaks free
through enchanting words
Crocodile returns catatonic, immobilised,
thanks fablers for creating fantasies
relieving pain passing crises in high
jumps to heavenly realms
Poetry’s magic too dangerous flying
high plummeting to earth returning
an ungainly reptile after soaring
in the sky like a bird
Rather to ascend in fantasies that
never end in disappointment when
reptilian reality asserts itself
poem by Margaret Alice
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The Toad And The Crocodile
“Good morning, ” said Toad, as she rested on a lily pad burping bubbles.
“Good morning, ” said Crocodile, looking disturbed and troubled.
“I don’t suppose, ” said Toad “that you saw two toads pass by this way? ”
“Let me think…” said Crocodile “oh yes, I saw them earlier today.”
A tear rolled down the cheek of the crocodile and splashed into the pond.
“Why are you crying Crocodile, what could’ve possibly gone wrong? ”
“I’m sorry, ” said Crocodile, “I’m an emotional old crocodile and often cry.”
“What a shame, ” said Toad, “you say my husband and daughter passed by? ”
“Oh… I didn’t realise they were your family, they were so nice,
I gave them a helping hand and some very good advice.”
“Thanks for your time and trouble; you’re a very considerate crocodile,
so unlike the ones I’ve heard about that live in the Nile.
Can you remember which direction they went, ” said Toad full of hope.
“I can, ” said Crocodile, “they slid down a very slippery slope.”
“But did they seem alright, I mean did they look safe and well? ”
“Yes they did, but I don’t really know, it was hard to tell.”
“Why do you say that, is there something that you’re not telling me? ”
“I’m sorry you’re quite right, I shouldn’t keep you from your family.
When they asked for help they were being chased by a ferocious lion,
so I suggested that they came aboard and hid until it had gone.”
“Wonderful, so where are they now? ” She said with a puzzled stare.
“Why, they’re having tea with everyone else that’s hiding in there.”
“Would it be possible to speak with them before I burst into tears? ”
“Of course I’ll open my mouth, so you can tell them you’re here.”
She shouted their names, as the crocodile’s mouth opened wider and wider.
“They’re not coming, ” said Crocodile; “they’re enjoying the cakes and cider.”
Toad began to cry, which made her burp louder, as she sadly walked away.
“Where are you going, ” said the crocodile, “your family is not here to stay.
Would you like to come aboard and join in with the others having a good time?
Come on Toad, I’ll open the doors; hurry now before I change my mind.”
Toad cautiously hopped forward and took a giant leap down the crocodiles throat,
she landed in a dark place where she heard noises and two other toads croak.
“Is that you husband” she said, “why didn’t you come out when I shouted you? ”
“The crocodile wouldn’t open the doors, ” he said “what more could I do? ”
“Well, we can’t just sit here and do nothing we’ve got to try and jump free,
let’s hope we can burp enough to give him wind; come on, on my count of three.”
For ages the toads burped and jumped about trying to fill the crocodile with air,
then a rumbling turned into an eruption and they were burped out of there.
Before the crocodile had noticed the toads were sitting a safe distance away,
“Hello friend crocodile, ” said mother toad, “we’re sorry we couldn’t stay.”
poem by Orlando Belo
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Farewell to the Crocodile Plaster
Farewell to the Crocodile Plaster (Written for Pre-School Leavers, read at the School Nativity Play)
The time has come to say goodbye
Both parents and children leave with a sigh
We look down now, on each smiling face
Reflecting the fun, they have had in this place.
From finger painting and stick-a-brix
To drawing houses and making rocket ships
Our kitchens are adorned with these objects of art
Not really in vogue, but of us a part.
Our children report on the world that they see
The comforting words for the cut on the knee
The Crocodile plaster to cover the harm
The teachers smiling face to reduce the alarm
The learning and sharing of lots of things new
Letters, numbers and computers too
Writing my name and counting to twenty
A great start to life, of which there is plenty
So thanks to you teachers, and Mrs Ellis the head
In preparing our children for the challenge ahead,
We’ll remember these days, with fondness hereafter
Farewell to St Peters and the crocodile plaster.
poem by Philip Eames
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Spring - embodied
Spring is dream
And in this dream
We cream faced
And we left place.
In dream we bet secret
Embodied ourselves
With the purpose
That was far away.
Execution is on
And we depend on
Thinking and
Thinking depends on
Crocodile and
Crocodile is mystery
Under water
And water is
Life partner.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Kenny The Crocodile
A crocodile that lived with many
who everyone knew as Kenny
was shunned by all the others
including his sisters and brothers.
Now Kenny was not one to really care
that his natural stench filled the air.
He thought it totally unnecessary and futile
that they should shun a brother crocodile.
He was forced to leave the muddy pool,
by the long nosed elders who did rule.
After walking and jogging for several days
he rested in the jungle and began to laze.
A keen eyed crocodile hunter close by
espied Kenny out of his one good eye.
He took careful aim and fired his rifle,
expecting Kenny to get an eyeful.
But Kenny rolled over towards the sun,
as the hunter again fired his gun.
He missed again as Kenny charged
at the hunter and his entourage.
Alas poor Kenny fell for a very old trick
and plunged into the hunter’s pit.
When soundly dead the natives jumped in
and relieved him of his valuable skin.
All over the world his patterned skin is bought
by those who give him not a thought.
I wonder if he thought, was it really worthwhile
being born a smelly crocodile.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Confidence boosts
A dog barks when it is in its yard.
An elephant fights a crocodile on land.
A crocodile fights an elephant in sea.
A team plays well in its home ground.
One gathers strength in the uniform.
What they feel and with what spirit they act
Is confidence. Confidence is the faith
One has from the counted advantages.
26.06.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Ice-cold Refusal
Act of God Graham Phillips - a very academic
account, the first 200 pages are bone dry but
I forged on, set on reaching wonderful theories
about cataclysm & history, nearly did not make
it, getting buried under a dearth of facts, names,
funerary rites, conventional Egyptology
Ice-cold refusal to consider Graham Hancock
theories about pyramid age determined by
precipitation marks - all irrelevant, I'm only
guided by a need for the enthusiasm of the
inspired researcher but the first 200 pages
fail to touch the reader
After suffocating in a desert of words, names,
facts and conjectures, the author promises to
prove that the Egyptian events were the effect
of ancient cataclysms, I hope to reach this part
of the academic dissertation before losing my
mind in boring reams of facts
It's clear why maverick Zechariah Sitchin
is so much more interesting to read, especially
when one has no use for the ancient lore
in designing a dreamy life...
Act of God - Graham Phillips, Pan Books,1988
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Dog Eats Dog
The crocodile attacks the elephant and the jaguar attacks the crocodile!
And this game of dog eats dog torture goes on in this world;
But the power-girls and the power-boys are about to learn from my muse.
God, dog, bog, log, cog, fog, tog, hog, jog, wog!
And of dowries and gifts;
But let me find humour in your eyes,
For this world is very deceitful and defiled all around us today.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Nile Crocodile In The Sunshine
The Nile Crocodile
needs to lie in the sun
to digest her
crocodilean breakfast
and longs for a swim
in the cool blue water
though it is winter
in Crocodile country
the evergreen leaves
sparkle with drops of diamond
in winter’s silvery sun
sky shining in brilliant blue
the Nile Crocodile
lies in the sunshine
warming her cold-blooded skin
guilty as ever
for not checking the kids
or helping with homework
leaving the kitchen
in a state of horror
tonight she’ll feel terror
when taken to task
but right now in the sun
warming up for the dive
into the icy water
she’s as happy as
a warm-blooded creature
all the cold-blooded fears
and broken-heart tears
forgotten for a
while...
poem by Margaret Alice
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Crocodile Tears
Crocodile tears, empty and hollow
The display of emotions shallow
Fake flag waving in the wind
A ‘friend' driving the dagger in
While tears flow down his cheeks
Trying to convince you, things ain't what they seem
Giving the lame excuse for the end
When truth is, real friends stay friends.
................
You, bawling out loud while pointing the finger
Forgetting about the man in the mirror
Telling with tears in your eyes, how you feel alone
When right now, the fault is really your own
Telling how all your friends walked away
But i wonder if they actually would've stayed?
If you hadn't pushed them away
You, telling how much it hurts to do this
"that it didn't end this way, i wish, i wish."
That it's fate, or the inevetible, so it seems
But you're the one pulling the strings
You made the choice to end it all
So stop bawling and shut up, cause it was your call.
You say it hurts and you don't want to
But you still do it, no matter what, don't you?
Spare me your tears, your crocodile tears
I want someone i can trust, one i can believe
You can dry your crocodile tears
Every time you try in vain to explain
My unflinching answer will always be the same
Twasn't me who walked away, i was here to stay
And if you're wondering where I am one day
I'll still be standing at that exact same place
But otherwise, shut your mouth, dry your eyes
If i wanted lies, there are plenty out there to buy
So let's be one hundred percent clear
I don't buy crocodile tears
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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Magic Never Runs Out
The words “Magic Flute” delighted me when
I was small, I ran about with shiny objects as
Magic Flutes, little cars as Magic Dinky Toys,
a long stick covered in foil was my Magic Wand,
I always carry a toy endowed with Magic Powers
by me, a beautiful children’s book is my talisman,
a guarantee that magic never runs out; an ethereal
fairy, an array of miniature birds, a dragonfly sitting
on my computer, create all the magic I need…
poem by Margaret Alice
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Love and Black Magic
To the woods, to the woods is the wizard gone;
In his grotto the maiden sits alone.
She gazes up with a weary smile
At the rafter-hanging crocodile,
The slowly swinging crocodile.
Scorn has she of her master’s gear,
Cauldron, alembic, crystal sphere,
Phial, philtre—“Fiddlededee
For all such trumpery trash!” quo’ she.
“A soldier is the lad for me;
Hey and hither, my lad!
“Oh, here have I ever lain forlorn:
My father died ere I was born,
Mother was by a wizard wed,
And oft I wish I had died instead—
Often I wish I were long time dead.
But, delving deep in my master’s lore,
I have won of magic power such store
I can turn a skull—oh, fiddlededee
For all this curious craft!” quo’ she.
“A soldier is the lad for me;
Hey and hither, my lad!
“To bring my brave boy unto my arms,
What need have I of magic charms—
‘Abracadabra!’ and ‘Prestopuff’?
I have but to wish, and that is enough.
The charms are vain, one wish is enough.
My master pledged my hand to a wizard;
Transformed would I be to toad or lizard
If e’er he guessed—but fiddlededee
For a black-browed sorcerer, now,” quo’ she.
“Let Cupid smile and the fiend must flee;
Hey and hither, my lad.”
poem by Robert Graves
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