The waves begin to growl
there's a quickening of the air
temptation bubbles to the surface
destruction and dominion too close to ignore.
Conceived in fury and shaped by desire
the birth of monsters from deepest nowhere
snarling to the beat of thunder.
Four thousand hooves of one thousand horses
the cavalry galloping, relentless, toward the shore
rear their great maned heads with a fearsome cry
then fall
breaking themselves against that jagged shore.
Behind them Power howls and roars
revelling in itself
as the battle wears on.
Now its might's remembered
the rage begins to pass
and oh so gently it enters
come to collect its dead
sweeping them back home to the depths.
Keep your forgiveness
save it for the days to come
they never flinched
they asked for none.
If ever there was peace before, then this is what comes after:
                  this is the desolate calm
                  that follows a sea-storm.

i

Afar blossom perennial, mine cataract vision needeth cleared,
For where art thou? Empress of cloud's, doth thou cometh near;
Mine child strained fear's, like perfume hang's the mist fog, mine kingdom needeth alignment, soul of wandering, into mine divine.

ii

Til' the end of the undying times, wherein poe's rhyme's matcheth thine kind, shine on like little diamond's to flutter mine heart that's untouched, greet me with thy fine lunch, meet me in dined brunch, the kerchief of mine spiced spirit to wrap thy lips.

iii

Strange devout bliss, posy sentiment so sprayed as such, like a brand new life, for the both of us; that special touch to maketh us shiver as trees that sway the off balanced coursing, thine toes to cure and curl, our tongue's to dribble in pearls, of ourn saliva.




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

i

Confectionery amour', quiet peaceful girl, flower haired gem
Whilst we maketh love to the old spinning record, eyes content;
The moon to leadeth ourn feet, bathed in chocolate fountain,
We prance as freely Galloper's, thither the desert, cool mountain

ii

I'll meeteth thee at the playground, inked in ourn red blotch,
No ticking tumultuous hand, to ruin ourn plan's, none to watch;
A private invitation, a rosey petal to surrender thine oath and vow, a seeded rightful city, conversation open and aroused

iii

Charlatan's to be naysayer's, exactly as the rest hath becometh,
Ourn cloak's to be as spiritual coat's, dashing in none repugnance
The waterside to be ourn resting residence, the pasture plain's to awaken ourn brain's, as we shalt be marksmen of lass and lad.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry

the sheer anguish of knowing you exist
corrodes where my happy fell

climbing out of you
is like clipping my wings
for a campfire.
snipping my glimmer
for paste
in a mortal and
pestle.

a craven cracked vessel
in a kestrel's
beak

like a handful of snake
and snow.

the last wind
up a flue
to kiss the carcass
of a dead
bird

is your laugh

and my
breath..

go ahead. keep your gospel. but be not faint
in the hallows;  inconstant. stretch the fathoms
of your fathoming to the outskirts of fell grace...
and stub your toe on a perfectly hideous
god.

keep your trinkets in narrow crustaceans,
but sleep - where your damnation is a coin
and a bed.
deepen your sorrow where the joy is spent
and the sky, a crisp skin on a desiccated
blue.
be thankful for the hell you keep
but ascend the zenith
of your every
harm
to find your
proof.

be droll as the wet fools cavort in the pit. but -
keep your feathers adorned
and your feasts mobile.
glow and be done with it
if you dare...

but keep your heart spoken
for the night.

the driven snow is driven bleak
and swirls of ghastly gorgeous
swoon in the nubile gossamers  
of undulating mist.
she is completely mad.
thought she saw a cat
perched in a quails beak...
singing cordial grimms
in a hologram
of dead love.

what are those petals in the iris
of infinity ? are they her soft hands, or papyrus ?
a sheet of hot winters, crinkling in the twilight
smelling of whale song and apple sauce,
her hair in a braid

of ravens.