Archive for the ‘Gnostic Poetry’ Category

A Motion Cycle’s The Resolution. The order in which the poems should be read. These poems will appear in a poetry e-book I’m writing titled “Fishing for Sirens”.

The Fisherman
The Resolution
The Divine
The Antagonistic
The Needy
Fated for Catastrophe
The Veil
The Logical Sense of the Granted
The Pretender
The Wounded
Aphorismos
Finding Work in Idle Hands
The Executioner
Agean Chain
The Invisible
Elysium

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Newest Amanda White poem

Celeste

Aqua, where are you hiding?
The flame of love is looking for you?
It doesn’t need a counter-parting
For love is this life’s strongest glue.

Come back with us to the shore
Where the starlight sirens have grown legs
Never mind that thing at the bottom
We’ll lie there only we’ve come to rest.

A light pierces into the mantles of darkness
Stirring us up from our slumber
Calling us up by our names
We are colloquial bawls in these celestial spaces
Sundering ions for aeon
Dot by dot, assembling, across this seraphic palace.

Sister Celeste.

Terra, where are you hiding?
Flora and fauna are here to greet you
The birds and the trees welcoming
No need to fear the taste of their fruit.

Come back with us to the center
Where the sunflowers have grown wings
Never mind that thing at the corner
We’ll lie there only if we’ve come to an end.

A light pierces into the mantles of darkness
Stirring us up from our slumber
Calling us up by our names
We are colloquial bawls in these celestial spaces
Sundering ions for aeon
Dot by dot, assembling, across this seraphic palace.

Sister Celeste.

Ignis, I, I am not hiding
The Cosmos is calling us to become one with it again
Mother, Gaia, we your daughters
We’ve listened to your calling
And we are ready for the embrace.

Lead us, through your soft marrow
Pull us back to you with your umbilical cord
Take us from this world so cold and callow
Fill us with that wisdom, unknown, unexplored.

Your light pierces into the mantles of darkness
Stirring us up from our slumber
Calling us up by our names
We are colloquial bawls in these celestial spaces
Sundering ions for aeon
Dot by dot, assembling, across this seraphic palace.

Sister Celeste.

Probably Ryan Lyandree’s final poem/song…

The Fisherman

Enter the hyphens to draw the horizon
This is the path I must take, from now on
Make way for the temple that has arisen
The parcels are coming to commemorate themselves.

Clutch onto your body, not to lose your spirit
This baptism of fire has other plans for you
Watch as this fisherman is fishing for sirens
It seems to be the only thing he knows how to.

Talk about the reeling
Talk about the bait
This path seems appealing
A trail I should take.

Spurting his blood to feed off the Wyvern
This is the pact I’ve signed, where I belong
Make way for the darkness tearing asunder
The pillars are coming down, burying us both.

Hold tight your chest, not to lose your soul
The drizzle of sulfur’s to acid, as coal is to oil
Beware of the callous in hunt of the weary
That the assemblage of angels is called on to foil.

Talk about the reeling
Talk about the bait
This path seems appealing
A trail I should take.

Stare at the wave that is swallowing us under
Look at that fisherman just fishing in his boat
Two suns are for eyes, and voice like a thunder
It seems he’s the one that keeps us afloat.

Shrouded in mystery is the life of us Pisces
When the age of Aquarium is now just upon
Two spectrum apart, contrary and in crisis
Two entities divided, striving to become one.

Talk about the reeling
Talk about the bait
This path seems appealing
A trail I should take.

Almost finishing writing “The Resolution” by Ryan Layndree

Finding Work in Idle Hands

Exercise your right to do what it has to be done
(This must be better)
Exorcise all the demons lurking in your home
(This must be perfect)
For the time being
Inequity enquiring the sight at plain
For the time being
Like a temporary mirrored mirage curtain.

Between this shop and the deep blue sea
It’s every man for himself
Better speak for your rights, call for an advocate
Whoever may care… lies in the details.

Cause down here (in hell) we need personnel
Everybody’s busy with their electronic devices
Cause the devil finds work in idle hands
And he has chosen you to be the chosen one.

So exercise your right to move your muscles and bones
(This must be better than the best)
Exorcise the demons lurking in your head and home
(This must perfection beyond the rest)
For the time being
Inequity enquiring the sight at plain
For the time being
Like a temporary mirrored mirage curtain

Between this shop and the deep blue sea
It’s every man for himself
Better speak for your rights, call for an advocate
Whoever may care… lies in the details.

Cause down here (in hell) we need personnel
Everybody’s busy with their electronic devices
Cause the devil finds work in idle hands
And he has chosen you to be the chosen one.

See a ghostly arrow fly across an instrument
Keep the broken door with maiden’s blood in it
They all die and go back to life in seconds’ time
No one knows what the mind was thinking when the hand came to sign.

Down here (in hell) we need personnel
Everybody’s busy with their electronic devices
Cause the devil finds work in idle hands
And he has chosen you to be the chosen one.

It’s not the same to call upon
As to see it coming
Oh, you’re the chosen one
Now do your bidding.

More poems/songs by “Ryan Lyandree”

Aphorismos

Principles of men are in the line
For the one person abled to sign
Resentment disguised as eloquence
Millions of billions of tons of torrents.

Ghoulish shrieks attempting to be voiced
Rather strident but left with no other choice

Apply fire and brimstone to give meaning
Innate behavior of the human condition
Consume and dispose of what’s remnant
Deface the essence of every conviction.

In the “City of God”
“If you run, the beast catches you
If you stay, the beast eats you”
So…

“Damned if you don’t
Damned if you do.”

Particles, the bosons are solidifying
High energy, large mass adjoining
Electrons, protons and neutrons
Orbiting symmetrically around the nucleus.

Black holes devouring darkness and stars
Fragments of God escaping whizzes and wizards

Apply logic and substance to display implications
Solely to simplify our ingrate presumptions
Feeding on our hypothesized lustful connotations
Ignoring the injurious, devastating ramifications.

After the Big Bang
“Out of chaos the universe was born”
“Temperature and pressure became hydrogen and helium”
So…

“Hang from the branches”
“Sleep with the fishes.”

Axiom
Maxim
Axiom
Maxim
It sounds like acts of pseudepigraphy.

Apply fire and brimstone to give meaning
Apply logic and substance to display implications…

“Hang from the branches”
“Sleep with the fishes.”
“Hang from the branches”
“Sleep with the fishes.”
“Damned if you don’t
Damned if you do.”
“Damned if you don’t
Damned if you do.”
“Damned!!!
If you don’t!
Damned!!!
If you do!!!.”
Only to die wondering
“Who holds the truth?”

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.

The Math
(Written on June 5, 2016)

So the sky fell into the dark days
So the road turned into a swerve way
And the mirage of the divine
Turned your beverage back from wine.

Such a perfect picture of disenchantment
When the wolves hide within the sheep
And though now you’re blinded by this excitement
Pray to God this doesn’t drag you in too deep.

If the result doesn’t add up with the numbers
There’s something certainly wrong with the formula
When fire weeps sound like roaring thunder
Then the conic section is an ellipse instead of a hyperbola.

So it was written a long time ago
But we were encouraged to believe so
When the devil talks like a Deity
We tend to turn our faith into absurdity.

Such a deceptive way to be captured
When our wounds become compulsion
And though then we waited on for the rapture
We decided that this was true absolution.

If the result doesn’t add up with the numbers
There’s something certainly wrong with the formula
When fire weeps sound like roaring thunder
Then the conic section is an ellipse instead of a hyperbola.

I’ve heard the voice of the devil
And he sings like the sweetest thing
I’ve seen the deep roots of evil
And they look like the most heavenly beings.

So when the waters rise soon to drown
We still will never learn the line needed to be drawn
For the greatest fear’s being taken for granted
But we again ignored it for the sake of feeling wanted.