Posts Tagged ‘Gnostic’

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.

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?”

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.

Séance
(Written on May 20, 2016)

My demon is laying here
Singing lullabies about my fears
Gently pushing my head down
Simply waiting for me to drown.

But this wasn’t part of the deal
My dreams were supposed to become real
And here you have me begging again for support
But you’re chocking me with your umbilical cord.

Oh, Lucifer, the superstition in my head
Why can’t I be part of your master plan?
Oh, Baal Zebu, the lord of façade
Why do you keep crushing me in the palm of your hands?

Cause I keep turning to you once more rejected
Cause you know I’m just a junkie and I’m addicted
And if my blood is worthless for you, then give it back!
You’ll return me to my life and we’ll break up the pact.

Décollation et Ax
(Written on June 1, 2016)

Here you have come
To return me where I belong
To the fire and brim
And the odium that streams
As it was written before
For the sanction and lore
To the divine infinity
And any other impossibility.

Here we are now
We’ve survived this somehow
To the steel and the stone
The ridge of the flesh and the bone
As it was once foretold
For the stick in the mud of the mold
To the one opposable
And any other one immutable.

Saviors and angels
Any kind of Theo-co-existence
To any other angle
Anything that comes as persistent;
Necromancers of the past
Gather up to raise your glass
Obstructing all that resurfaces
Obscuring all that’s polymorphous.