I've wrote enough about your eyes,
and how they mesmerize me,
how I try to look into them and read
everything you hold inside you
and how I never could.

I've wrote enough about your lips,
and how they whisper,
beautiful things,
how I need them close to mine
so they could cure my every illness.

I've wrote enough about your skin,
which I believed was carved by Angels
a perfect imperfection, (sort of)
the way you glow against the sun,
rejuvenates every part of me.

Now let me write about your freckles,
little stars they are,
how they make the universe feel so
adorable, beautiful..
making me find my universe in you.

Now let me write about your scars,
which have become every part of you.
But, they rhyme with me now,
they're a part of me now,
that's why I love them too.

Now let me write about your veins,
running down your neck
visible through your fading skin,
I could kiss you, and feel your heart beating
but I'll be the one who'll feel alive.

Let me write all about you,
Your chubby toes, your sleepy voice,
Your breathing, your gaze,
Everything I can touch, everything I can feel.
Let me try..
every detail, every tiny bit
Let me write..
All about you
yet still find
that endless poem,
incomplete.

If I'm gonna treateth mine woman as a queen
I shalt treateth her as a queen daily;
As tis Men just think special occasion's and holiday's
Art the only day's to calleth their women Queen's,
With me, every day's a holiday
Every day that I'm with mine queen...............



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication

When I looketh into
Mine reyna's Asiatic telescope marble's
I canst seeith, all of God's creation;
And all the time I seeith
Shooting stars
Passeth by
As the comos
Is full
Of life.




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry.
©Earl Jane dedication

What art thou doing today friend?
Art thou living in pleasure's;
Or materials.

What art thou doing today friend?
Art thou wearing a mask;
Putting on a good smile, screaming inside.

What doth thou doeth in thine spare time?
Doth thou hurt other's;
Taketh to never giveth, getting rich off poor and blind?

What doth thou feeleth dear friend?
Doth thou not realize, wordly pleasure's only last a second;
Until thine end.

What doth thou heareth O man?
The music to loud on thine speaker's;
Blocking out God whilst thou canst?

What art thou drinking oh brother?
Alcohol to dilute thee;
A well from God floweth much better.

Wherein is thine wife O mate?
O thou art not at thine abode;
Cheating again, with a hot date.

Wherein doth thou investeth thine time?
Material's that dissapear, putting loot into stock's and shares;
Loosing thine wordly mind?

Wherein art thy children?
Left all by their self, thy wife not getting help;
Whilst thou hath put them on the dusty shelf.

Doth thou even knoweth where thou art going?
When thine heart's pulse stoppeth;
There's a heaven and hell, beast's in cell's, where thy skin fryeth.

Doth thou taketh thing's for granted?
Living today as if there's another;
Forgot thy sister and brother's, as art purpose here is love.

Didst thou knoweth?
Thine sin's canst be forgiven, with the last day's to thee given;
Wilt thou except the creator's grace? Or turneth away?




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

when you're heart's free,

        call me, let me know when

        you let yourself off of chasing dreams

        and pursue me for a bit

        it'll be a lot better a reality settling with me

   dancing to me even with frail gestures

   proves more intimate than finding ourselves

     wrapping legs together and getting naked;

     just when you think you're sinking i'll let you know

your heart is still free to dance with me