You are born and live and live well, good and bad.

You add and subtract and learn.

You throw out and subtract those things that do not add up.

You keep what makes the equation correct and you add more in and live.

You live well my friend , you live well.

You - and everyone else,
You're always saying that I'm
Nice,
and Smart,
and Good.

That I do the right thing, always. That I'm effortlessly selfless, constantly. That I'm a good person.

And I always shake my head. Say, 'Thank you,' but 'No, I'm really not.'

"You're being modest," always what I get.
Never thought I was being honest, did you?

And now, now you know.

That I'm a coward; too afraid to stand by your side.

Ever wonder why I stayed in the background?
Back with the shadows, safe, hidden from view, refusing the spotlight?
Well, now you know why.

I'm not brave, like you.
I can tell what's right, and what's not,
I can feel my oxygen slowly being siphoned off, the longer I wait,
I can make the right thing happen, eventually,
But not like you.

You, with your emotions,
and recklessness,
With your utter confidence in yourself,
and instant reactions,
You're brilliant, like that.
But so, so not me.

By tomorrow, of course, I'll have something figured out.
I'll talk to all the people who I'll need to back me up.
I'll think out every possible scenario, figure out every answer.
I'll wear my mask, so no helplessness, no desperation, seeps out.
Where you failed with pure emotion, I'll use cold, hard, logic.
And I'll succeed, and tell no one what I did.

That doesn't change the fact, that I faded into the shadows,
and let you stand there alone.
I waited, of course, but not close by enough for anyone not looking,
to see.

And now you know, who I am.

Bet you expected me to stand with you - too bad I let you down, too bad, I always will.

Good thing, well, now you know.

Afterwards,
doves were given seats in parliament.
Growth was measured in forests,
greed was a treatable condition and
the only religion was love.
An economy based on death was unthinkable.

The great spirits gathered themselves
once more and proceeded like clouds
moving over the mountains, returning
to the lands of the ancestors, lighting
fires along the way for each of
those that did not make it.

The time of remembering came and went
like a storm or a dream, as all things do,
unfolding crease by crease like a sail in the wind.

That was where we met, your dad and I,
in a field some time after the sunrise.

Being alone is having one eye.

She was the rose,
         Twas I her thorn;
            O' how mine heart
                                  Weeps.
           Im lost in the storm.

©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poet's poetry

A river among a stream
forecast only myriad of dream
when early dew easily derived as mad
while peace here is now our dream
with thinking that imbed these orchid pastels
once weight did keep it from debt only seemingly then
but the river quay abscond many hats to wear again
while canoe does display this garden wall
with a dream of a lifetime so it's shone
when into darkness finding a rainbow
and each river there a quay did find a reeve
for contaminates as water must goldenly flow
as their sustenance can keep evermore alive.

Have you seen the crazy man
who shuffles when he speaks
Mumbles with a broken stride
and ties his shoeless feet?

Have you seen the broken woman
carting round her home?
Shopping in a garbage can
Garbage shopping cart alone

Have you seen the intellect
religious physics in his head
He understands the missing cat
and knows that it's not dead

Have you seen them all together
when they're all apart?
Bumbling old shoes
A newer cart home
Calculated prayers and art

I have seen them
I've seen all three
Folding my newspaper blanket
I have them all for tea

Roosty