Courage in a syringe that keeps me focused. Something I buy just like a cup of coffee. It looks glamorous in a movie, but the reality really *****. I surrender to the need that keeps me going. I deal with people that look ok, but will hurt you without thinking. I pay for the habit anyway I can. Doing what I must to keep it together. All I think about is how it hurts sometimes. I can't make it off of the Merry Go Round, believe me I have tried. Clean and Sober is just a saying, the reality is that I am addicted. No end, no glamor, just a truth of a cycle that I have to maintain and hope I don't crash before I can find an exit to my dependence on drugs.

I call on you to join with me. I ask you to help your fellow man. In a rain storm give someone shelter. In the snow make them a warm place to sleep. In the heat of the day give them a shade where they can rest. When they are lonely give them a friend. Offer your extra change to buy someone a meal. Let them know that you care, show them how kindness feels. Remember your neighbor who has no one, stop by to say hello. Drive out the darkness and the loneliness, let true mercy show. Together we can make a change in humanity one kind act at a time. If you join me we can make things better, through kindness and caring and bring the world hope once again.

And if in the end
he happens
to break your heart
thank him
for giving you
something
to write about.

in
this
kind grave
is
a cast of
your soul

I'm coming from afar
I tell the woman
the last time I came
I could walk straight to the river
now monsoon mud has made a mess
can only glimpse the river's face
is there still a way on dry feet?

She raises her eyes
no way she says
it's all shrub and slush
but you can have a look at my garden
pomelo and papaya,
gourd and green banana,

I haggle over price
wouldn't settle for less than a bargain

she smiles all the way
succumbs with ease
for the take a bag too she gives.

As I leave her on the falling day
I feel no loss
not finding the river's way.

373

I’m saying every day
“If I should be a Queen, tomorrow”—
I’d do this way—
And so I deck, a little,

If it be, I wake a Bourbon,
None on me, bend supercilious—
With “This was she—
Begged in the Market place—
Yesterday.”

Court is a stately place—
I’ve heard men say—
So I loop my apron, against the Majesty
With bright Pins of Buttercup—
That not too plain—
Rank—overtake me—

And perch my Tongue
On Twigs of singing—rather high—
But this, might be my brief Term
To qualify—

Put from my simple speech all plain word—
Take other accents, as such I heard
Though but for the Cricket—just,
And but for the Bee—
Not in all the Meadow—
One accost me—

Better to be ready—
Than did next morn
Meet me in Aragon—
My old Gown—on—

And the surprised Air
Rustics—wear—
Summoned—unexpectedly—
To Exeter—

Verily
I sayest;
Verily tis true,
Mine dearest queen Jane
For thee mine amour' is true.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication ( Filipino rose)