Archive for the ‘Awareness Poetry’ Category

New poem by ‘Ryan Lyandree’

Fated For Catastrophe

The king is at its castle
Another dumb puppet chosen by dynasty
Let’s crown this asshole
Let’s embrace our own empirical hypocrisy.

Here comes his majesty
The trumpets announce his entrance here
In with the “new” ministry
The surface of this place is flat in this sphere.

And so it’s time to choose sides
It’s time to stay closed, or open out wide
For larva are accumulating in our mouths
What about the dear old worms when everything goes south?

The lord is at its temple
Praise the pagan figures built by mortal men
Darkness is that simple
It enters though the gaping holes of human sin.

And so it’s time to choose gods
It’s time to stay close, or to let go
For dust has been gathering in our hearts
What about the dear agony that comes along with the scars?

And so it’s time to push open that third eye
‘Cause how obvious can it be to read between the lines?
It’s time to swallow the truth and savor the lies
How oblivious can we be about a balance that declines?

Choose now to live or to die
Choose now to give up or to stay alive
For our king has spewed “off with their heads”
And I think he’s speaking about the living rather than the dead.

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33rd (AAIGA) (Part 1)
(Written on September 10, 2016)

The number of days that took for the resurrection
Is cloned twice in your degree and scribed on your ring
And by the time they wake up for the insurrection
You’ve signed on our foreheads and owned everything.

The number of the fiend is of that of this humanity
The faux minister certainly won’t preach about God
They feed on the chaos caused by continuous calamity
Cause the fallouts of the afterlife’s one thing they forgot.

This is a mate ceremony presented to the Great Architect
Offering progenies to be swallowed by the likes of Moloch
Cause the real symbols here are all about the mathematics
It was a bet made back when the spiritual battle was unlocked.

So when the alchemists disguised themselves as scientists
That’s when the witchcraft became the mother of cunning
The slithering being curled on a cane, denoting the evident
The obelisks erected must’ve given us the signs of a warning.

I haven’t given before my opinion about today’s society’s status. This is my opinion about it all.

SeaSick

Nuke us, nuke us
This world deserves death
Apathy and nihilism
I’m a man with no faith.

I don’t hate you enough to pull the trigger
I don’t love you enough to extend my hand
Die in the corner, where nobody sees you
Die of starvation, the rich-from overdose.

This canvas is all painted over
There’s nothing else to put here
Just throw it to the trash and then
Bring a blank canvas and start again.

Your opinion, my opinion
The facts, the suffering
All of the notion that keeps moving on
We all born, we all die, we all cry!!!

So nuke us, nuke us
So we can truly fucking feel
How the goddamn end is like
Politicians and religious nuts
The politically correct and millennials
And those who don’t give a fuck
And for those who don’t believe in a God!
Die! For all of our sins
Or lack of
Perfect? Perfect is your bullshit
Thinking that we’re not on the same boat
One that is sinking!!!

The wave of so much nothingness
I’m getting seasick by all of the hollowness
The pitch black, nothing is essential
Everything is created, nothing is accidental.

The Stream, the String, the Stirring

The hollowness is expanding
Reaching greater lengths
The darkness is merging
Opposing our strength.

And if you’re weak
It will devour you
And if you’re sick
It will assimilate you.

But I, the shadows don’t want me no more
And the light, it’s still too far for me to reach
For I am a joke now as I was to them before
I’m the one who got their soul system breached.

The content of the box is being revealed
It wasn’t like there was nothing in it before
And the designs, that were once sealed
It is a falling that will certainly leave you sore.

And if you’re blind
It will consume you
And if you’re kind
It will disgust you.

But I, I am a wanderer between parallel realms
And the light, it’s still far too holy for me to touch
For I am the abortion of these parasitic stems
I’m the one who will never avail things as such.

I’ve taken sides, but never sided with the unknown
Although my core lusts to learn what’s out there and beyond
I’ve chained myself to the love and the pain ingrown
And my memory will hold meaning until I am completely gone.

A poem I wrote last week.

Master of Anxiety

Wasting all of my time doing nothing
But thinking how much of a loser I am
How I am always disappointing everyone
And how much I’ll fuck up again next time.

I’ve tried to overcome all of these thoughts
Tried to medicate with high all of my lows
Swallowed one too many pills attempting to kill this disease
Wishing I could kill my body if it comes to it.

I wish I could disappear in silence
But how much more invisible can I become?
I wish you could understand my anxiety
I was raised to feel like nothing and be alone.

Wasting all of my time here complaining
And thinking how much of a whiner I am
When I’m having it “good” even when I’m bleeding
Always above others as from this belt I hang.

I’ve tried to keep my stupid mouth shut
Tried to swallow my pride and confront my doubts
Zombified my mind with mindless TV ads on display
Wishing I could put my fears right where my body lays.

I wish I could undo this inner violence
But how can you fight something that has become much stronger?
I wish I could get rid of all of this anxiety
But I was taught only to fail miserably and become a loner.

Wasting all of my time staring at nothing
Thinking how much of a fucked up I have become
How I am always disappointing everyone
With the things I’m doing, with the things I’ve done.

I feel like the master of anxiety
But I know I’m more like its slave
Worrying about every little thing constantly
My own soul I cannot even save.

Ephemeral Infatuation

There’s something about you
Something truly addictive
And I’m just another junkie
Looking for a fucking hit.

Let’s fuck up this already shitty life
With all of your disgrace
And all of my mistakes
‘Cause nothing matters when we’re young
There are no consequences
To the bend of our moral compasses.

There’s something about you
That I wish to have in me
I wish to put in you
Angst is a supermassive black hole.

Let’s crash course against the wall
Leap off this cliff
And float till we disappear
‘Cause nothing matters when we’re young
There are no penalties
For we send it all to fucking hell.

‘Cause the present looks like a puddle of colors
We cannot make anything concrete out of it
And in our lack of esteem and raging hormones
We want to feel something, even if that something hurts deeply.

We’ll have the rest of our lives to regret this
We’ll ignore ever knowing one another in the future
Once we’re old and grey we’ll pretend have lived a perfect life
With the perfect choices that led us to where we will be.

Laurel (v2)

Oh, this thunderstorm here is no surprise
Lilith is for the hunt and she smells blood
Saving the grace of the Children of Sunrise
Fugitives of the left hand’s grasp of Ehud.

I was raised to sit down, listen and obey
And though these shackles were strong enough to hold a mountain
It came down to traits I simply cannot feign
‘Cause that voice in my brain filled up with pain is now shouting.

Oh those whackers!
Don’t they love it when snakes crawl beneath the grass?
Those mother rockers!
Don’t they love it better how it was then in the past?
They do, they do, they do!
Cause every prince needs a trophy princess to set on display
They need their mechanical mannequins to advertise their victory
To boast their ego as their golden halo’s glow beams blindingly like the sun
I don’t think these majestic pimps need a golden rod but rather a golden gun.

La-la-Laurel
When are you going to stop these men from claiming us as prizes?
Maybe when the stream of the Rose Sisterhood rises
Not until then, not a minute earlier, not an instant later.

Oh, this rattle noise here is not uncommon
Eris is looking for harmony and finds none
Unravels the principles of events to summon
Being sanctuary to those in need of a home.

I was molded by fire, steel and diamond cut
And though these pillars were designed to keep my monster confined
It came to the point that the weight abrupt
The pontifical colloquial symmetries of this cyclical cylindrical sine.

‘Cause every ruler needs a maiden maid right by their side
They need their long string puppets to put a on a good spectacle
And all the mistress they can get for the when world seems just a bit empty
For when their servants contravene after the fact they cannot find any sympathy.

La-la-Laurel
When are you going to stop these men from claiming us as prizes?
Maybe when the stream of the Rose Sisterhood rises
Not until then, not a minute earlier, not an instant later.

Oh how they ride inside their modern day cortege
As they always seem to be late for their own funeral
Well I should apply for a brand new confident entourage
One never knows about those things that might become ephemeral.