in the land of the white
live too the black men
apparently with equal right
but with covert disdain.

why couldn't the world be one place
when we are all from common gene
where humanity is the only race
across the color of skin.

in the land of the black
live too the white men
apparently of the same pack
but on a different plane.

why couldn't the world be one landmass
when we rose from one origin
where being humane is the only class
across the color of skin.

in the land of the white
live the white men
among them aren't equal right
exist disparity and disdain.

why couldn't the world be one unit
when together we all once had been
where brotherhood is boldly writ
across the color of skin.

in the land of the black
live the black men
among them oneness they lack
the inequalities still remain.*

why couldn't the world be one creed
where mankind lives as one kin
the white and the black can only read
love across the color of skin.

when did i last spend a good time?

a second, a minute, an hour, a day
one undiluted, unmixed, pure, and raw,

a good time, truly good, without a flaw.

was it those moments of ******* height
when sans one sense, all else was dark night

or the time spent brief in her warm embrace
seeking her moons reading map on her face

it could be the while when a gust of joy
made this heart shine like a boy

a flashing streak of event that lit up the soul
from pieces of fragments revealed the whole

getting from a girl her kiss of innocence
drench with her in first summer rains

reaching a heaven from far firmament
by a smile from the boy a dime i lent

turning that page of a now lost time
when this mind first chanced upon a rhyme

they rush like tide set me to brood
from the budding child to the aging manhood
where in the memory now thick with grime
lies hidden the passing of the last good time!

A world where
clouds rain heavy glass
onto birds that shriek
above butterflies that breathe fire
over oceans made of oil
near grass made of needles
below trees made of knifes
holding leaves that release toxins
would still be a nicer world
than one without you

Death awaiteth us all
Waiting for us to trip up;
To slippeth fast
In the bask of the universal law.

And whilst the reaper calleth
"Brandon cometh here mine friend"
I swayeth over in slow step's
Awaiting, knowing mine end.

Though on the other side
Dearest amour, and truest friend's;
A feastful party of uncorrupted
None beast's for the homestead.

With a romantic who's hopeless as me
None longer hopeless, but taken by her sweet;
She'll be a comet, of heavenly treat's
She shalt be mine queen, I hopeth to meet.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry

As the sun sets on a lonely city sidewalk,
shadows dance
while strangers remain.
foreign faces
passing without a glance
in solemn servitude to a metropolitan pace.
too much to do about nothing
busy bodies
yet stagnant minds.
empty vessels, so full of themselves
socially isolated
through a refusal to break stride

we're stuck
in big city melancholy
lost
in a grey scale state of mind
thousands of people
occupied in obscurity
always together
and still alone all the time

I am the Poet, hear my siren’s song
My woven whispers ****** ways and words
Mesmerizing, you will feel you belong
Be part of an inner circle and be heard

Write with me, no lines will be false or blurred
Together we will create and be strong
There’s no need for pleasure to be deferred
I am the Poet, hear my siren’s song

I have been sad and alone way too long
Belonging together is most preferred
Creating brings joy, won’t you come along?
My woven whispers ****** ways and words

Take a chance and your senses will be stirred
Part of our circle, not lost in the throng
We are more together, grace is conferred
Mesmerizing, you will feel you belong

All ideas are welcomed, no thought is wrong
Just know this; your spirit won’t be interred
May our venture be successful and long
Be part of an inner circle and be heard
I am the Poet

krs
July 21, 2015

Beneath the sunsets orange,
the green grass grows rich,
next to the blues of the river,
softly flowing through the meadows.

The days offering of warm rays,
struggles in it's last moments,
capturing the essence of beauty,
filling the soul with absolute bliss.

Nestled within nature's arms,
a deep and hot spark ignites,
spreading with a vicious hunger,
consumed by the pleasures of greed.

Embracing the comfort of solitude,
this forest, the only witness,
leaving untold secrets kept,
as lovers release their passion.