War,
There are world wars,
Business wars,
Political wars,
Religious wars,
Gang wars,
Family wars,
Friend wars,
But the most detrimental is the self-war.
People are always in want,
Always on the hunt,
To hide themselves away,
From the vanity of the day.
Let me do this,
Let me do that,
Whatever it is,
To keep myself busy,
From the huge empty vat.
It’s so empty because we do not fill,
For it takes quietude,
Peace,
Patience,
Love,
Openness,
Charity,
Things like these,
That is not vanity.
But it would still be a war,
Because it would be then these things we would be fighting for.
But emptiness and vanity would slip away,
And in our future we’d all be together throughout our days.
War is inevitable in this life we live,
But what we’re fighting for can change into bliss.
War…

Ryan O’Reilly
5/8/2006

I am an ordinary,
One who is binary,
I can see this clearly,
I’m the ordinary,
Bipolar,
In my actions,
Singular,
In my thinking,
Or believing,
Me the ordinary,
Has dined with the poor,
And have dined with the rich,
Yet they mutually,
Are ordinary,
In this living thing,
We can’t get outside the box,
The box that is ourselves,
If we did,
What would we be then?
I write,
I sing,
I do the art thing,
Yet it was my dream,
And now a reality,
And has become,
The ordinary,
For me,
We all want to live comfortably,
Who says any other thing?
The stars of our land,
Now understand,
That they too,
Are simply the ordinary,
Living in they’re dream,
Isn’t that the ordinary thing?
Hoping to cope,
Always wanting to grow,
Never content,
In simply being,
Or having what one is already seeing,
Let us move on,
We will always say,
It in any circumstance,
Will be our play,
As in the beginning of the book the Republic,
This would be a nice ordinary thing,
Yet as it moves along,
In all the diversity’s of each profession or trade,
Each one is an ordinary thing,
So to be one that is not,
This ordinary thing,
One would have to think act and move,
Not for its own being,
This person or it,
Would be outside the box,
Thinking always of the other,
Rather than his or her own comfort,
Yet as much as I’ve tried to be,
The unordinary,
I always see me,
In the midst of every,
Thought or deed,
There for I know,
Be me rich or poor,
I’m just the like of all,
The equal to,
And am,
The,
Ordinary,
It would be nice,
If I could obtain this other way,
Yet in that thought,
I’m still thinking of me,
And still remain,
I the ordinary way,
Ordinary…

Ryan Brady O’Reilly
10/2001

Being the love,
Seeing the love,
Being the love,
By being true.

Being the love,
Seeing the love,
Being the love,
By being true.

Ryan Brady OReilly
®2001

In the All, it never began yet it is and shall always be.
It’s like a tree from the roots to the leaves,
They are all different things but collectively one, the tree.
Going back now into antiquities we find ourselves with a lover,
A lover like no other,
You see her heart shines a bright metallic purple,
Her body is a mist of white,
Like the white light that she was born from,
Her eyes a piercing green,
And you could tell because the rays would stop when she blinked.
She sat on a throne made of diamonds,
And the diamonds reflected her light.
And her name is Hecate.
Her throne was placed at the edge of the mist that was made for the son of the first mother that came forth from antiquities.
Hecate new herself well for she was her own,
She also knew that which was to the clear of her for she sat on the throne at its edge,
As well she knew that which was in the mist for she as well set at its edge.
Although she was one, she was also three sitting at the crossroads between the clear, and the mist.
For those that couldn’t see her as one saw her as three, one of a dog, one of a snake and one of a horse, with her two dogs by her side.
She like the mother out of the ALL wanted a child for she was lonely.
So she went into the mist of antiquities and found the son of the mother Lucifer.
She asked Lucifer if he would lay with her so that she may have a child of her own.
Lucifer denied her request and gave her the gift of spells.
Hecate returned to her throne of her own forms and another form of black.
And she gave her gifts to whomever she pleased to give it too as long as they praised her back.
The ALL seeing what was happening wanted to banish her from existence and Hecate fled back into the mist of antiquities coming across Lucifer again.
She pleaded with him asking for a child and he finally gave in.
I shall make you birth a child but I will not be the one who plants the seed.
So Hecate happy with Lucifers reply returns to her throne and waits through the days to birth her child.
As the baby did make it through the pass,
Hecate was full of bliss for she had her baby at last.
She was a mist of green shapeless of form,
Could be seen, or could be unseen.
Grown already at her birth,
Hecate named her Belladonna,
You will be a mystery to the new mankind and their fear,
For you will be known as death,
Get busy Belladonna my dear.
So Belladonna bringing death to pass,
Turned mankind into ghost for her mother whom was pleased at last.
Being that Belladonna came from Hecate,
She new the arts of magic,
And maid a spell for mankind to not die,
If they had enough faith.
Along came this one,
Who spoke of Belladonna,
Who she was and what she has done.
Through his faith he had passed the test,
And the magic spell worked as Belladonna confessed.
Most of mankind tries not to think of Belladonna in their lives,
But it’s inevitable, as she will pass by.
Belladonna weeps for what mankind thinks,
They say she makes ghosts of man,
Yet Belladonna knows that they just dont understand.
I tell you all you have to have is faith,
That is my spell,
Belladonna yells, and yells.
As she continues to bring death all over the place.
Lucifer laughs at the child that he did help in the create for Hecate,
For he now has souls of men in the midst of antiquities for him to irritate.
Belladonna belts out, “You did not fully create, for I came from my mother Hecate, a bit of you in the mist of antiquities and from that of the ALL, I am one yet four in all.I see my mothers sadness, and soon it will be gladness for she is creating a spell and that is for me as well, that I shall not be the death of man but the passage way for them all to come to the ALL to understand”.
“Belladonna, I have heard your plea”, came forth from Hecate, “And I have made a spell that will take your role from off of your plate. You must go to the highest mount becoming a real woman and leap out”.
Belladonna without a doubt did as her mother has asked and jumped off of Mount Everest dying at the bottom creating another death.
Yet she had faith and began her rise,
Her mother Hecate pushing her back to earth saying, “you are now a witch of both the arts.
You see the ghost and you are in control till the end to never part”.
As Belladonna made her way through life on earth,
Both men and woman came to her for her worth.
Belladonna taught a few,
On the things to say and do,
And now there is many,
That know her plenty,
Yet throughout mankinds time and space,
Even though she is still alive in hiding,
And has done away with the pride within,
Both men and women see Belladonna as a legend…

Ryan OReilly
4/6/2006

The fish fly through the air,
As the birds swim in the sea,
I see you,
But never me,
I can’t picture,
Even my own face,
But I can imagine it in any way,
Truthfully I close my eyes,
And don’t know what I look like,
But I can still see you,
Beautiful as can be,
I’m sure your children are too and shall be, you’ll see..
But the horses wallop like a seal,
And the seal is the faster runner on any field,
And the human race is maid of elastic,
If I’m right it’s some kind of plastic,
And no I can see your own imaginations go,
I don’t play with them blow up dolls,
If I’m not with someone,
My hand does a lovely job,
Ha-ha,
But the white clouds is the grass,
And we no longer have to wipe our ass,
Or any child’s ass,
You parents and older siblings know about that,
Yet we climb the plains,
And the high mountains,
There we do our swimming,
And have fun doing it as well,
And what about the rodeo?
They tie our nuts up,
And we buck the bulls off,
The dogs,
We are the pets of,
Do tricks and fetch their stuff,
But they are not our masters,
We still rule the land,
But there is no need for any kind of game plan,
The T-bone steaks and prime ribs,
Come strait out of the ground,
And the best red wine is our rain,
That’s where it’s found,
Now if you wanted to go under,
You’d have to go up,
As you hear the cat walk by,
And say, “what’s down”,
The cat is really asking, “what’s up”,
The elephants wouldn’t have the long nose,
It would be the monkeys that we know,
And where would be our beds,
So that we may rest our heads,
It would be on the ceiling,
For it would be our floor,
As a matter of fact,
Where the hell would we put our doors?
Imagination can be a weird thing,
It could be wild and funny,
Oh shit my nose is actually running,
I’ve lost it where did it go?
Ah, there it is hiding in the snow,
But what we would know we wouldn’t know,
And what we didn’t know we did know,
And we where good to show,
That which we didn’t know,
Now here is a weird one that is actually a fact,
The furthest away from me,
Is me,
I’d have to circle the whole world,
To get back to me,
You see?
Ha-ha,
I like that,
I hope you do, for those who get that,
A wild imagination,
The circumference is non-existent,
There is no up or down in its existence,
No beginning nor end..
Oh, just one more thing,
This has to do with no imagining,
I love you my family,
I love you my friends…

All Rights Ryan Brady O’Reilly
01/14/2002

You do not prove yourself,
So why do you want men to prove themselves,
You are quiet more silent than silent,
You know the creeper is the most beautiful of creations,
Sly,
And full of revelations,
And he makes himself known,
Yet you sit in silence,
Hoping they will choose you,
But you don’t make yourself known,
So how will anyone choose the real you,
When you keep away, and run?
I do not ask that you should prove yourself,
I see all the creation about myself,
I do realize that you be,
But only by what you created,
Not the real you,
The I am,
The Thee…
I totally understand why others say you’re nonexistent,
And if I do,
So should you,
Why would you condemn someone on this?
It makes absolutely no since,
I believe in you,
Simply because I exist,
I didn’t spontaneously combust,
Someone had to make me,
And I know it wasn’t my dad or mom,
They didn’t sow me together,
As one would make a coat or sweater,
So for me,
I don’t question your existence,
I only question our relationship,
Because I do exist…
People have said,
I’m blessed with many a talent,
And I’ve lived the life of the fearless,
Traveling this land,
In the faith of your hands,
Yet as I am writing,
What arrogance I do possess,
To think and believe,
That you would be a friend,
With me…
Once my granddad said to me,
Ryan, you know I love you,
But at this moment I as well hate you…
It’s kinda how I feel,
God, you know my love for you,
But right now I hate you too,
I’m only speaking with truth,
You punish me with your silence,
How am I with that,
Going to have a friendship?
Maybe I should go outside to the beach,
And pick me up a rock,
And become friends with it,
For it would be the same kind of relationship,
We do have,
For I know without a question that you are,
Just like the rock would be sitting in front of me,
Yet as the rock doesn’t speak,
Neither does thee…
Oh well,
I’ve seen my arrogance,
But as I sit here writing this,
I hope you see yours as well,
And I see your answer,
Which is nothing,
Ignoring me,
Is you punishing me,
For what I don’t know,
But I’m not the one who has made that choice,
Any way,
I’ll let you be,
You got better things to do,
Than simply reason, talk, and be in company with me.
I know the reader wont understand,
But I know you do,
My old imaginary friend,
And when you actually want to be real,
And stop playing this game,
With the beautiful fallen one,
I’ll be right here,
In wait,
To be a friend with you…

Ryan Brady O’Reilly
01/10/2002

The beauty of being,
Is seeing,
At least this is what I’m believing,
Or maybe it’s believing,
Rather than just seeing,
Yet it is way more than this,
If it is to be a bliss,
It must be something of an identity,
Mixed with an innocence,
Of the state of being-ness,
It is said,
I think,
So there for I am,
Yet to me,
That describes no beauty,
Innocence is a beautiful thing,
For it is the lack of it,
That makes any man or women,
A distressed being,
But simply being alive,
Is an exciting thing,
It’s like a roller coaster ride,
Into all kinds of circumstances,
And emotional feelings,
I would say it’s best when up,
Yet sometimes up is actually down,
When I’m turned unknowingly around,
So for me I’m going to stop,
And make this short,
I’m to young yet to know,
The full beauty of being,
Except for some reason,
I’m thankful,
At least this I know,
In my beauty of being,
Of you,
This I show…

Ryan Brady O’Reilly
10/25/2001

Remember how Christ did his work,
It was done peacefully and lives on,
Remember how Gandhi did it,
It was done peacefully, and he lives on,
Nothing can take away peace if you be true,
Nothing can take away love if it is true,
Nothing can take away hope if it be true,
Violence only begets violence,
Love will beget love,
Let us all remember,
Let us not be broken,
But be whole,
Complete,
And filled,
For the day we shun violence,
Is the day heaven will show its way,
To every man,
Woman,
And race,
Love, love, love, love, love, love,
It is the only way…

Ryan Brady O’Reilly
09/14/2001

I’ve gotten over it, You see, For you were just being you, And I was being me, If I dwell on what was done, Then I’m stunted in my growing, For you are an individual, You see, As well the truth is, It is the same with me, We were bound to hurt each other, In some kind of way, But I’ve gotten over it,
Know this today, I hold no animosity towards you, And know it with all yourself, That this is truth,
Life goes on, It is a river, Flowing, It’s an endless trip, Of trying to grasp the IT, One thing I have defiantly learned, Is to forgive, For there is only one of you, And one of me, On this life lesson,
And be that this is true, I will, And shall, Always forgive you, So there is no need, To feel any pain,
For the way you might of treated me, For it’s done with you see, I’m doing well, As well as this one can be, And there is no need for you, To continually ask for my forgiveness, For I’ve already forgotten about it, Why continually remind me of it, Take my word, It’s ok with me, All I can see that may be wrong, Is that you haven’t forgiven yourself, In what was done. So be relieved and forgive yourself,
So that you too may live on, And see the IT, That I see, Again, I’ve gotten over it, Forget it, And let it be, Live freely…

Dedicated to those who seek me out and still continually ask for my forgiveness on the way they treated me..

Ryan B. O’Reilly
11/08/2001

Must I be like everyone else?
Were they can’t live alone by themselves.
Must I seek to be approved by others?
Do I have to have an individual lover?
For I know where other’s find a fault in me.
I’ve fallen in love with love,
Which loves all of thee.
Out of the ALL,
I am in the collective,
Yet have been pulled out and selected,
To be individualized,
Before you’re and my eye’s,
With no way of any disguise.
But I must say that I do not stand alone,
In their true nature,
And in their true home,
Everybody faces being alone.
Even with another right by their individual side,
From this truth they cannot hide.
So is it true that I do not get lonely?
It is true because I’m not a one and only.
I did not spontaneously combust,
And my parents didn’t put me together like a rug.
For I am out of the I AM,
To be an individual man.
To make choices of good and bad,
The hardest thing for one to do,
And I find this kind of sad.
For the bad is a beautiful deceiver,
Who brings justice, peace, pleasure, and love,
And we,
I, think it is from above.
When truly it is the beautiful lie of my life,
For I chose it for myself,
Not for anyone else.
So I say to me,
How can this be?
There for I turn around,
Back to where I am,
I am not lonely,
For I am not an only.
But for me,
And others I do see,
The problem is not being the lonely,
It is being bored,
That is why there are so many task-less things to do.
To entertain our brains from the thing that really is,
The ALL, the I AM, the BLISS.
If we could be relaxed with our own self,
Then we would also be relaxed around anyone else.
Our minds would actually move into the collective,
We would then be no more individualized,
And in and without, no more of this selective.
So I say,
Must I be like everyone else?
I already am,
But I tell you,
I’m doing the best I can…

Ryan OReilly
4/30/2006