Do you see a cocoon
Of a butterfly
That didn't bloom?
Because I can see beyond
most things
and maybe you did too
Subconsciously pervading
A spindle of of thoughts,
Thought up
To hide the ones
That were there
Just bursting to come out
But you left them there,
Underneath
And never let me see
So I'm a butterfly
Caged and waiting
For truth to set me free

Sitting here listening to Debussy
Reflection for today, removes all worry
Just sitting here, watching the rain
This moment is perfect no grief, no pain

Simple as it is, this moment gave me happiness
The music, the rain, ah! takes away the sadness
It makes me thank God and everything around me
Thank you for the rain and the world around me

Ourn silhouette's to tail us
Afoot aboriginal Knoll's;

Her brilliance, imminent
Untold story of love;

Appertaining in her contemplate
Mediterranean, upon ourn plate's;

Barefoot meandering to ourn date
Relaxed and high, none debate's;

She's the apothecary who Selleth me philter's
She allureth me in, and mine soul stretcheth longer;

When I falleth down, her young age maketh me stronger
When I cometh around, her word's art charmer's;

Comely is her impetus
Cometh hither mine lad, she's the amour' seamstress;

Companied, I shalt hold mine lass
Companied, I shalt liveth with her, in ourn nest...




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication/ soulmate mienne

In this life, I see no joy.
To survive, it is a battle,
I no longer wish to fight
I struggle each day living my life with doubt.

I prayed asking God why am I still alive?
I don't see reasons to live,
Darkness is all that surrounds me.
and i am lost in the world blinded by the night

I sleep away with hopes for tomorrow,
just to resume the life.
The stresses in my heart and mind!!
At this point i am mentally unstable.
And It's enough pressure for a man to commit suicide.

Hanging turtles and
Netted birds of amenity
Dangle from her
Left hip like jewels ‘neath a,
“Ming,” ear as she traverses
Mountains beholden kitchens
And one more rise come setting splendor.
Supper may be atop the right, pelvis,
But opposite and left,
Rests the flask, bitter in chase of sanity.

I’m sure the scant pebble
Rattling in between
Her stomach and sorrow
Was nothing more than
A desperate thirst opposed the
Blister born benevolence,
Thirst opposed execution
And a coin converted spirit opposed,
“Xie xie,” (thank you), a platitude,
As heads clip pavement,
Blood pales a gutter,
Or soon-to-be feast’s final throes,
A bleeding and breeding for other,
Leading jitter-beholden mice to flee,
For they may be next
So future’s victuals arrive
Unhindered.

All and assumptive, assistance and rendered,
She walks away with only this –
Everyone’s emaciated
And the butcher on the street is still a butcher,
A peddler, a savior, and butcher again;
A source, be it left, right or wrong,
In need of a drink, as we all are,
With only the means, “take me to the sip,”
And by dollar come pocket born you.