a good thing is a Unicorn. but one that bleeds.
in the Harlem of our garden, a Cyclops plots
against our flock of sheep.
we are teetering on the brink of an awkward laughter
reverberating off of false Gods.
we are dithering the quince and the steam
from our dull kitchens, casting pots,
against the harangue  of bleached dreams -
and the nethers of our sworn clot

virtuous notions
and dim
thought.

The Nigrescence Of White

if you want me to sink into this thing
you'll have to loan me your Titanic.
whoever tunes your piano must sing
and the fables; break and panic.

if you want me to know what you want
you'll have to know me as a cynic.
where all the dogs think they won't -
but they will, they will, they will -
if a bone's in it.

Young man only thirteen high before his dream's
Taking doses of everything,
Painpill here, something there, a few Soma's in between....

Daddy shouldn't of left out
His first bottle there to begin with,
Yet daddy gave his son those pills
Sin's the son must live and tryeth to forget...

And now the sky falls
The earth to the boy quakes,
Yet now a man he seeith all
All the lies,pain , and heartbreak

He found it out the hard way
Making deal's in alleyway scene's,
To many false Lovers to him
They all telleth tales to maketh him believe...

And so he continues to swallow down his white pills
Just to feel some reality, wherein nothing else seemeth real!!!
And though those round thing's aren't authentic, he does it from the pain, of all the farce one's that cometh again and again....

So he couldn't take none more,  that he got
Trapped in a nightmare, of numbed out demonous plot....
He took a few last white tabs, swallowed them down,
He blasted his music inside his room, blocked the door so he couldnt be found.....

Took his belt, from his closet door, Wrapped it around his neck
Couldn't get no genuine amare from noone, the next life out did he check..
.. As the invalidated he left behind to them a note, mum and dad and everyone, this life I didst not hope....

So his soul clicked, snapped outta his shirt, he fleweth away like a bird, only in his young age, a shock for everyone, for him they hadst no words..... Now he was a ghost!!!

Their only word's were they were soo sad he hadst taken this way out, now at themselves they were mad, because it was them be was talking about..
How they hadst forgotten him, and all the stuff he hadst told... He was a young angel, who so young gave up soul...

The boy who died a man, payeth a visit every now and then,
He stoppeth in with the other suicide's of were hurt and heartbroken....
And up above the man canst seeith the Heartbreakers still break,
Thinking in his mind he forgives them now, though their still fake.

And yet though their fake, he intercedes to God for them in prayers.
Because he's a true seraphim, he didn't even belong here...
His character is unlike them, he was the truest to come around,
And now the other's wilt knoweth the jewel whom they hadst let down...




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

That blade took its time as it tried to saw through me
But those words had no problem slicing deep
I could have cried when the scarlet poured down my arm
But I waited till the world was fast asleep

I guess you didn't notice anything alarming
Or you ignored what you didn't want to see
I locked my demons with my secrets and I hid them well
Even though I wanted you to find the key

God who's gonna cry for me
Feel the pain, hurt inside with me
When I'm alone and the hurt is too heavy to hold
God who's gonna cry for me
God who's gonna pray for me
Shine a light, bring some hope to me
If no one dared pray for Satan as he fell from the Lord
Then God who's gonna pray for me

Seated here in a dark room
Like a bride turned down by the groom

I'm here conjured in my imagination
Trying to figure out what is or what will
Be, but still it doesn't answer every question
I don't know what your heart needs to heal

I'm here by my PC typing on my phone
Because It's new and it'll take time to learn
While my mind is taking on a new form
Dripping sweat looking for the best words it can

Call it speech that will seep in through the cracks
And touch every painful spot wounded by your past
Listening to Lana Del Rey hoping to find the words in her tracks
Some kind of soothing spell I can cast

I'm here imagining holding you close to my heart
Here thinking that one day you'll learn your sad is mine
Here sharing your pain even though I can't trace your cut
I'm here in darkness and missing you my shine

part your sea, and i swear you'll never overcome my surge.
my petulant swell of upheaval, upheld -
by the angels
of our darker thoughts, and the parody
of pure reason
where a
heart
stops.

a sudden gravity floats in a heavy seam
of dead air. it disentangles the pyramid
from the eye... severing a dot
from a matrix
but keeping the barn doors shut
should our animals
plot.

and our jailers
name it.

i have an ocean to promise you
Nothing is
sacred.