Posts Tagged ‘Society’

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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Potential Ryan Lyandree Poem. Still not sure.

Causality

So the bill has been signed
It’s the law, and you have to abide to it
Either you like or not
It is necessary for those who watch over majorities’ well-being
But when you’re a minnow
In this shark infested pool
Well, you better swallow up your pride and feed off your saliva.

This is necessary
For the sake our economy
Dispose of a few unknown second hand creatures
Off to the grinder, more grub for the gluttons.

Endearing offer, indeed…
Just a causal casualty…

No need to be concerned
We will rise up against, down on the streets
Signs and gasmasks at hand
Until another fire signal starts, shifts our attention from the objective
The news will all cover it
This has lost priority
Above all, to everyone, the new diversion plan’s working perfectly.

Such lack of majesty
Always under veil
Million dollar campaign for the malnourished crowd
Makes us shed off our eyes, but not off our wallets.

Profound and prolific, yes sir…
Just a casual casualty…

The woke-up-twenty-second-reflection-army is not doing much
As they eat of their caviar and drink on their champagne.

Show of hands if you agree
Down with all of this politically correct bullshit
Nobody wishes to die of cold or starvation
Everyone prays to rise above.

No fingers to point at
No one to blame at all
It’s just necessary evil
Simply collateral damage…

Just a causal casualty…

Amanda White

Aduena

“What a beautiful voice she has”
“Sing for me for a while” he says
Convincing her to open up
Only to steal a piece of her soul.

She’s a town girl trying her luck
He’s a city boy raised in the block
Her naïvetés shines conspicuous
As his reputation precedes him.

Ignorance is bliss
But to each its own
Fools always rush in
Where angels fear the tread.

Sic Semper Migrant
Thus always to Tyrants.

“What a unique talent she has
Maybe we can make something of it
We’re in need of new virgins
To keep on feeding this eager city.”

She’s a young girl trying her luck
He’s a sly boy raised in the block
Her nescience glows apparent
It is his chance to take advantage.

Sealed with a kiss
Reason is overthrown
Fascination dashing
Where precious illusions lie dead.

Sic Semper Migrant
Thus always to Tyrants.

She doesn’t know what she’s doing
She plunges her body and soul onto the chasm
With the risk of hitting the pavement
But all of it is worth the trouble, if it’s for love.

Sic Semper Migrant
Thus always to Tyrants.

A poem I’ve written under the name “Lauren Black”

Voling Thermo

How subtle this gathering
How lovely this family is
With their eyes locked at
With their lies sealed in
Open lips smacking
When chatting and dining
How so cultural
See how we keep on pretending.

Glory to the queen
And her servants
Here comes the princess
I’m not up for the crown.

How inspiring this welcoming
How faultless everything is
With their mouth murmuring
About outspoken chattering
Bright faces smiling
When inquiring and indicting
Such professionalism
On how we keep on dissembling.

Glory to her majesty
And one of her heir
Here comes the parade
I’m not up for the charade.

I may be never be your favorite daughter
Under secrets and false pretenses attempts
Oh how you’ve become such an exemplary mother
To the neighbors, my sister and both’s friends
But to me you will always be a symbol
One that I could never dare to interrogate
Excuse me for being so upfront and so bold
For I cannot excuse the things you allegate.

So…
Glory to her illustriousness
May the children of her children
Follow on her footsteps
Cause I…
I’m not up for the pretense.

Excuse me for being so upfront and so bold
For I cannot excuse the things you allegate.
Sorry for not trusting the pretexts I’ve been told
For I can never truly depend while you dissimulate.

The Needy

Nobody listens to the desperate calls of the lost
Nobody notices the pleading shouts of the needy
Within an alternate breadth, where individuals turn insignificant
The blood on our hands doesn’t appear bestowed by grace but rather seems spilled deliberately.

Nobody cares about the true identity of the host
Everyone seems to care about the spot that’s greedy
Behind these mirrored walls, where self-gratification’s glorified
The bones in our closets don’t appear to ask for our better nature but comprise our own egocentricity.

Aloof in your back padding, all this time you’ve thought you were the very best
Full of it, truly, not your fault, not in its entirety, for years this lie you’ve been told
‘Cause truth upfront, you’re ungenerous, uncongenial, when it comes to the guest
Yes, you’re tightfisted and vainglorious, unwelcoming to those waiting out in the cold.

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.