Favoured Old Books No: 1: ‘Gods and Spacemen in the Ancient East’ W. Raymond Drake (Sphere)

 

Back in the early 1970s when I was a teenager, I grew to love this kind of book. I, like many, was fascinated by ufos, aliens and space, that maybe the myths of the Greek gods were a retelling of ancient visitation of spacemen from other worlds.

Such books would have been scorned by my history teacher, yet these were far more interesting to me than the learned tomes we were supposed to study for O level.

This is the one I bought in 1973, which, as you can see I covered with plastic, as lovingly as any schoolboy would cover a textbook. It’s in very good condition.

Of course it was Erich von Daniken‘s famous book ‘Chariots of the Gods‘ which had really fired my imagination a little earlier. Although he was to receive much criticism from both the scientific and religious communities, I still believe there is much to be learned from his books and from other authors like Drake.

I recall one school assembly put on by some pupils around 1973 which even brought up the subject of ancient aliens. Was God and astronaut? The following day the headmaster took to the stage himself and attempted to shoot down the theory in flames. Despite this, the theory is still out there and as popular as ever.

The great thing about Drake’s writing is that whilst he is clearly learned, he writes in such an accessible way – it had to be for me to read it! I particularly enjoyed the chapter about the Ramayana of ancient India and his interpretations of it.

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The general thesis of all these books is that extraterrestrials have visited ‘our domain’ in the past and have effected the course of human civilisation, perhaps even to the extent of altering our DNA through one method or another.

For me it is a wonderful adventure, and even if not all of it is true, it is highly entertaining, nevertheless. One qualification I would insert is that the understanding of the word ‘extraterrestrial’ has become more complex in recent years. I am quite sure there are other dimensions to reality, and that ours is only one.

Therefore the origin of these interlopers, whether they be in spacecraft or not, could be from the same third dimension as our own, or from the fourth or fifth dimensions, the latter which may surround us invisibly.

I think it’s important for us to keep an open mind, to explore and yes… to imagine.

Copyright Francis Barker 2020

The Magical and Mysterious Number 7

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Haiku: Lives on Mars

brown and black crater
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

If we go to Mars
we’ll take our poison with us
Hail the god of war

copyright Francis Barker 2019

Poem: ‘Dance of Life’

This was long thought to be the only portrait ...
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Don’t hold out a torch
for me, I am not free of blame. This

is the dance of life where all are
culpable, soon to be drowned in

washes, the mangling gears
of pain. But who knows, these maelstroms

might be wormholes, revealing other
worlds and tableaux of night; dressings

of props across cold stone walls, taken
and rebuilt from dishevelled remains.

And where bards once played on stages,
hidden behind arras stitchings

and nom de plumes, we are all still
mere punters in pits macabre, holding

torches for celebrity – look at them, drunk,
high up with their gods of gold

© poem copyright David F. Barker 2013

Flesh of the Gods

All Giza Pyramids in one shot. Русский: Все пи...
All Giza Pyramids in one shot. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“For whosoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance: but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even that he hath.” Matthew 13:12

His wish was for eternity, flesh
of the sun to mask his corruption; yet
he got his wish the instant Carter’s
torch shone through that chiseled hole: An afterlife
lived only through posterity, outshining
his ignominious end, all
made possible by legions of lackeys who worked
and then died.
Fast forward the centuries
and see little has changed, though
the flesh of the gods
is in bars, hidden in vaults underground, never
seen— like the hopes and dreams of peace,
these rigged scales of elusive justice. We are
left to scrap and save what we can
in a manufactured, finite
world, this theatre underfoot
none like us shall inherit. There is, after all,
only one sun in the sky
and Osiris lies in pieces, unable
to be mended again

© copyright Davidi F. Barker 2012