The Poet Speaks

For those of you that don’t know me on Twitter, my user name on there (and indeed, on most platforms that require a user name) is The Poet Pyronius. I have been using the internet handle Pyronius in one form or another since I was 14, and even gave the name to a character in my first novel. The poet part has been less true of late, since most of my spare time is spent either writing non-fiction or focusing on my novel. Still, there was a bygone era when I would read poetry at the local pub to a score of bawdy bogans, and I’d like to share some of that poetry with you now. Though perhaps not my most provocative, it’s still my favourite. It’s called ‘Mantra‘ –

Om was the sound of creation’s first blast,

Om was the first of Omega, the last,

Um is the sound that lives in between,

Reminiscent, in doubt, of forgotten Om’s mean,

Giving pause to expansion always heard, never seen.

Err was the tainting of Om’s noble grace,

A mistake often uttered in lieu of Om’s face,

As existence expanded, adaptation demanded,

That Ah and Oh need not be reprimanded,

To arrive at the end Om in steady formed pace.

But the truth of the Om is that which we crave,

As Om is a sound, and sound is a wave,

A wave which can shake matter’s sea to the core,

While a matter of energy divides divine shore,

No one man can drive Om, it will take many more.

Mantra‘ is now available to purchase in tote bag and t-shirt form from the eyE[before]Store page.


I’ve also added a couple more t-shirt designs available for purchase, including a Tim-Burton-inspired ‘Nightmare Before Diwali’ Om design;


As well as a t-shirt print of one of one the favourites from my art gallery, ‘Ariel‘.

ariel-tshirt-imageLarger images can be viewed through the store.

Om Namah Shivaya.


20 thoughts on “The Poet Speaks

  1. …and I can imagine the reading in all of its ‘bawdy bogans’ glory. Dripping with Irony (which seems to follow me as thirsty kitten;) I’ve been thinking in depth, for many weeks, on Mantras. It would seem, I cannot find words or sound to capture the vibration I feel every time I meditate, which I know is my personal Mantra. As a writer, this bothers me.
    So you see…I recognize truth in your poem, and thank-you, for your words ease my own frustration with myself. Arête, Ryan;)

    • As you know, I’m always happy to ease the frustration of others through words, Hannah. 🙂

      Don’t be too concerned if you feel discomfited when using a mantra that doesn’t resonate with you. Discomfort is one of the hallmarks of pending spiritual growth. We all have the capacity to be anything, and to resonate with whatever intent we choose. If you pick a mantra you like and stick with it, it will inevitably become an integral part of your being and the discomfort will slowly subside.

      I understand how important labels can be to writers such as ourselves, but it’s important to remember that labels can be the enemy of that which defies definition; the metaphysical. Don’t sweat too much finding the right mantra to embody your higher being, or your spiritual title, or what name you call God by. If you’re meant to know stuff like that, it’ll present itself to you. 🙂

      Tu es lumino stellum, mea musicus. You’ll rise far. I just wrote a guest blog about the true nature of words and the spiritual essence of storytelling elsewhere. Let me just find the link…

      • Yes, I agree, mea stella poeta. (and yet I remain a pent-up-personal-Mantra-guttural-vibration-meditating-mute-freak;) But alas, thank-you for kindness on the growth front.

        What a fine guest blogger you are, kinda like a sugarcube dropped in a piping cup a joe…
        scribere igni, ardet suaviter. in mysticis nos peregrinari. verba intexere navitas. veni, verba. Venite tripudiarent veneficus;)

      • Haha, tu et suavitae unum. 🙂

        Gratis, Hannah. Of kind words I have an abundance, though for what it’s worth we all have stuff to work out. Except for Jesus. And Superman. 😉

    • Haha, thanks HLM. I do what I can. 🙂

      And I do like to troll the erotica blogs, yours is great. Honest and intimate literary expressions of sexuality are a dying art form in the modern era, I fear. Of course, sexuality has evolved a lot in the modern era too, not to mention the advent of visual storytelling mediums, so I suppose we’re all just working things out. Cheers for your awesome feedback, don’t be a stranger. 🙂

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