Ian Shanahan, 1989

METAPHYSICAL POETRY

Enigma
Ian Shanahan, 3 July 1989.
The key is the glint in your eye:
a fiery sword that pierces my heart
with turbulent waves of joy.

Liberation: Et Lux Perpetua...

Ian Shanahan, 30 July 1989.
Brain
Ensnared yet Infinite
Chained by LogiCosmology
Photons in a prison of mirrors
Seeking the One
Heart
Energy and Chaos
Web of Contradictions
Impulses in a prison of freedom
Seeking Direction
(Heart & Brain)
Astral Conjunction
Find the highest plane
Unity in Light
The Face of God

Fractal/Infinity?
Ian Shanahan, 6 August 1989.
B
E
H
O
LOGOS
D
!
In a spray of Light
our Creation:
then all-embracing Love
sweeping throughout the Cosmos
in crystal orbits.
Death does not suffice:
Spirit remains,
unchanged forever.

Constellation
Ian Shanahan, 14 December 1989.
The Trinity:
Belt of Orion,
Three Stars in the Cosmos.

To those without gnosis, who deny Transcendence

Ian Shanahan, 25 September 1994.
Ignorant materialist,
lover of darkness:
Here is your meal of mouldy bread
generously spread with fresh dung.
You must partake thereof,
for in all the hylic world
this is the only sustenance that exists.
(A great lie, methinks!)
In time
One shall learn to love its taste,
to savour it.
You must ... lest you starve.

On Suffering
Ian Shanahan, 10 December 1995.
I am being hammered hard
in the fiery forge of God.
For years my heart resisted Him:
iron will, obdurate,
tossed about by lifes travails
in Primal Chaos trapped
in darkness, like cork on an abyssal sea.
My Mind against Divine Love.
Now, I yield to Jesus
that I shall become finest sword-steel
folded over and over:
spirit unbreakable, compassionate,
filled with His Love and Peace.
Still, I ache with earthly ambitions.
But only through painful severance
from such desire
might my goals be granted
... (or maybe not).
It wont matter once He moulds me
for, in Him, I shall truly be free.
What a paradox!
To abandon my life,
my hopes,
my deep well of loneliness,
to Christ
that I may have life in abundance.

Beyond Time
Ian Shanahan, 15 January 1996.
When first you smiled at me,
FIRE consumed my Heart and Mind.
I was thrust into eternity:
basking in your timeless radiance.

Oh Little Town of Bethlehem

Ian Shanahan, 14 December 1996.
Oh little town of Bethlehem,
forever in the news,
because of all the shit between
the Arabs and the Jews.
See their corpses lying
in everlasting night.
Its clear the Palestinians
will not be put to flight.
The centre of this little town,
where Christ lay in his cave,
is now a pinball parlour:
a modern spiritual grave.
The denizens of Israel
dwell in constant fright,
because they do not take to heart
true Loves eternal light.

A Requiem for Club Pharisee

Ian Shanahan, 4 June 2000.
They love to eat their camels, but take infinite pains
to strain out any gnats.
They enforce their fake hierarchies, yet ignore His higher arche.
Wade around in the shallows, like infants: stay away from Depth
its unknown to us, a mystery: it could be dangerous...
You might even disturb the equipoise of our smug ignorance.
Never question or challenge anything here, ever...
At each Sunday public gathering the rigid happy-clappy masks descend over faces,
with their stupid neon smiles; over souls often twisted, in misery.
Poor hypocrites.
We always shoot our wounded: those who survive usually leave.
But lets be cheerful! Oh what joy!
The circle closes once again.
They preach love and caring, yet practise indifference
while making great efforts
to be seen,
week after week, as laid-back oh-so-hip Jesus-groupies,
to be seen
to be insiders, behaving like good Christians.
Bullshitters, actually.
Candour, honesty? Thrown out the window.
Unity? Dont make me laugh!
Its more like Uniformity...
Comfortable middle-class Conformity
is their norm an enormity
in the face of Gods natural diversity.
For them,
Difference is Perversity.
Its a Bible-College Certainty.
Relevance is their mantra, and so without knowing it,
they breathe in the foul excrement of the hylic now-world.
Relevance is a mantra for those without gnsis
while His universals are timeless, an eternal logos for all.
But alas:
For the very last time I have walked away from
this White House of Pain posing as the
Mystical Body of Christ,
this counterfeit of Reality...
God help the Church: as I write, I see
its just a Social Club for Pharisees.
So where is the real thing?
A Network of Love,
A Brotherhood
beyond the masonry of their buildings.
Free.
Split a piece of wood, and there I am.

Corporeality
Ian Shanahan, 30 June 2002.
I hate being a slave of my body,
having to shit and to piss:
If I were ethereal intelligence,
theres only one thing that Id miss.