Archive for the ‘Gnostic Poetry’ Category

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.

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Undeniably Undependable

A stingy sensation on the pit of my stomach
Laying there are broken dreams and dead butterflies
When an intention breaks into such a remark
You become the judging eye of who truths and who lies.

Lifted up from the remains of what was once alive
Walked away from the traces of what was once conceived
If I knew that you would’ve taken me for such a ride
I never would’ve stepped foot on that shelter where you lived.

Hard to envision anything any other way
When your wine is strong, with a bitter sense of convolution
Any lap dog would find it easy, to go stray
If they knew the true intentions of your so called revolution.

A peculiar sensation in the back of my mind
Sitting here with such familiar features of things I doubt
What could develop here, what could be left behind
Whatever trail I follow that will for sure become my route.

Leaped from under the fire and all of the debris
I crawled away from the crumbled pieces of my palace
If I knew that past beyond “forever” you would flee
I never would’ve exchanged my heart for this lack of solace.

Hard to position you in any other place
When your rope seems strong, but breaks from its fine line
Any beggar would want to witness your grace
If in their very naivety they didn’t conceive that you are lying.

Walking straight, with my breast held high up
If you need to say something here, you might as well cough it up
‘Cause once I take flight, I won’t be looking back for signs of life
‘Cause I’ve witnessed all you have to offer and it’s all in bitter strife.

You’re undeniably undependable
A plugged-in toaster unexpectedly thrown at my water filled tub
My dignity is certainly not negotiable
And the blood stain you’ve left in my heart is one you cannot scrub.

Amaurotic

This world crumbles
Crumbles down at your feet
Have you ever known?
Ever known of defeat?

The disarrayed poetry
That makes you feel high
That makes you feel complete
It’s nothing but a discarded array
Of supplanted supplemented supplies
Of apparent cosmic prophecy,
An exponential perfidious of
An illusionary romantic morale.

You’re emotionally amaurotic
Stoic to the fact that not always
You’re gonna hurt
This partial loss of your sight
Becomes part of who you are
Of how you feel inside.

This world crumbles
Crumbles in front of you
Have you ever known?
If any of this is true?

The intrinsic intention
Turns the right into obsolete
The distinctive effort to inert
It’s nothing but disjointed display
Of insufficient, insufferable insertion
Of palpable parables paraphrases
That deviates the real objective;
Forcing you into being subjective.

You’re emotionally amaurotic
Stoic to the fact that not always
You’re gonna hurt
This partial loss of your sight
Becomes part of who you are
Of how you feel inside.

Gamble the one thing you have for real
And you’ll lose at the end of this deal
Cause blinders seem to hog onto your eyes
You can’t tell what’s true from a lie.

Absurdum Excedunt

Void, when the spiral closes
Just a vast of endless darkness
Like being buried in charcoal
But gravitationally weightless.

When all science fails
And the conclusion’s flawed
All of the mathematical method
Spurs like blots across the drivel.

Incongruent and inconsistent
Where’s the strict impeccable exposition?
For those who are dull minded
Like moths drifting towards the bright.

Eternity and energy in a fragile vessel
How can you sustain such accumulation?
Myths and mysteries drawn in numbers
Where the true enlightenment slumbers.

Singular Purpose

Dimwits own the world
Damn the day they were given a voice
Dumbfucks rule it all
Damn the day they were given a choice.

“So much potential wasted
Contained in my low self-worth”
She says to me with tears on her eyes

I’m self-destructive
My arrogance is brutally honest
Fuck the god in all of us!
As useless as the one above this world.

My agnostic thoughts contrast my belief
How can I be another stupid atheist?
This knowledge cannot fill the gap in my soul
I’m feeling the fragility of being a human.

Share my story in order to gain wealth
Make me useful, sell my soul to y’all
I don’t care, take it, just take it all
Free me from this excessive freedom/boredom!

I cannot find my singular purpose
To rape all of you with my every lie
Come, come out and give me the choice
Maybe I need to feed the shadow inside.

To make peace with the demons that lurk
And accept the things I cannot change
I’d be bending spoons, but all I have is a fork
Which I use to stab the nerves in my brain.

Perpetual Predicament

Don’t lose faith in humanity yet
Someone will rise for the occasion
Once we’re done with that bottom dollar bet
And we’re up to our necks in duly deformation.

Not truly separated from the center
But severed and extracted from it
With fuel to add to our ill temper
No wonder we cannot find any peace.

This mechanical inception of you and I
It becomes part of the perversion that comes alive
One pull of the lever and the level starts to rise
Either you drown in it with dignity
Or sell your soul in order to survive.

Flick of the switch for things to turn around
Inane in here, a prisoner of my own war
But as we all fall down the bottom ground
We realize we were part of the problem from the start.

Not truly set on the pier base
But buried deep within the walls
Which might or might not be case
Of why no one ever heard my calls.

This ostracized intricate perception of us
Lays a pragmatic paramental parallel over our beliefs
‘Cause is there any out there left to trust
Shouldn’t be the ones who serve
On our pain and feed on our grief.

So come and put on your Sunday’s best
You might need to look pretty for the picture
We’re cluttered here with all of the rest
They bring down the foundation to break apart the structure.

Enters the incipient perpetual predicament
The never-found solution for this ongoing mystery
Adding up to the sentiment of ambivalence
And so we go on living under such incensing misery.

From the perspective of someone else

Bodhi – Seoul (Erudire)

This one goes to my father
To my mother
To my God
And all the intentions they had for me.

Implant fictional memories of things I never lived
In this imminent break up, make me choose a side
Such a diabolical plan to take a child to manipulate
Push that love for a cornerstone deep in my insides.

I’ve found my shattered self
In a higher realm
Inside my own
Right where you left my dead pride and soul.

Move me with your strings, like the puppet you think I am
I’ll be bowing my head, waving my hands up, side to side
Dictate all the prayers, and the rules I’m set to understand
Push self-love in a small bottle that I must drink until I die.

This circus that you made of my youth
You made a pact for the cult that was set to sting
To praise a God that never gave a fuck
But now I’ve found a way to be again enlightened, liberated.