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 Dec 2015 Bill murray
ARI
I have felt
Dejected.
I have been
Swallowed by
Grief.

I have felt
Anguished.
I have been
Far beyond
Heartbroken.

I have felt
Hopeless.
I have been
Abused by
Misery.

I have felt
Dysphoria.
I have been
Adrift within
Sorrow.

But,

I have felt
Wonder.
I have been
Wrapped inside
Comfort.

I have felt
Delight.
I have been
Given sweet
Laughter.

I have felt
Exhilaration.
I have been
Loved inside
Paradise.

I have felt
Hopeful.
I have been
Blessed with
Freedom.


-ARI
Bʏɢօռɛ tʀɨɮɛsʍɛռ
Hɨɖɖɛռ ɮɛtաɨxt tɦɛ tɦɨċҡɛt;
Eʏɛ's քɨɛʀċɨռɢ ʟɨҡɛ ʍɨɖռɨɢɦt քaռtɦɛʀ's
Tɦɛɨʀ ʄɛatɦɛʀ's, ċօʟօʀʄʊʟ, ʀɨɢɨɖ.
Tɦɛʏ sɛɛɨtɦ tɦɛ ɨռʋaɖɛʀ's
Cօʍɨռɢ ʊքօռ tɦɛɨʀ sɦօʀɛ's,
Tɦɛɨʀ ʄʀɨɢɦtɛռɛɖ օʄ tɦɛ ʍɛtaʟ
Aռɖ ɦɛʟʍɛt's օʄ ɦɛʟʟ's stօʀʍ.
Tɦɛ ɖʀʊʍ ċɨʀċʟɛ stօք's
Tɦɛ ʍɛռ aռɖ աօʍɛռ stօք ɖaռċɨռɢ,
Tɦɛ ʄɨʀɛ ɮʊʀռɛtɦ ʟօա,
As tɨs ռօռɛ tɨʍɛ ʄօʀ ʀօʍaռċɨռɢ.
Tɦɛ Eʊʀօքɛaռ ɖɛatɦ ɮʀɨռɢɛʀ's
Tʀaʍքʟɛ saċʀɛɖ ɢʀօʊռɖ,
Tɦɛ ɢɦօsts օʄ օʟɖ
Iռɖɨaռ sօʊʟ's, ʍaʀċɦ աɨtɦ tɦɛ ʟɨʋɨռɢ tʀɨɮɛsʍɛռ
Tօ sɦaʍaռ sօʊռɖ's.
Dɛsɛċʀatɨօռ ɦatɦ ɮɛɢʊռ
Tɦɛ ɮʟօօɖ ɦatɦ ɮɛɛռ sքɨʟt.
Iռռօċɛռt ռatɨʋɛs, օʄ tɦɛɨʀ օառ ɦօʍɛʟaռɖ,
Raքɛɖ, քʟʊռɖɛʀɛɖ ɨռ ʄɨʟtɦ.
Tɦօʊ ċaռst stɨʟʟ ɦɛaʀɛtɦ tɦɛ Cʀʏ's օʄ tɦɛ ɮaɮɨɛs aռɖ աօʍɛռ,
As I ċaռst ɦɛaʀɛtɦ tɦɛ sɦaʍaռ աɦօ's ɮʊʀɨɛɖ ɨռ ɦɨs tօʍɮ,
Pʟaʏɨռɢ ɦɨs ʄʟʊtɛ aʟօʄt ɦɛaʋɛռʟʏ ċɛɨʟɨռɢ's.
As tɨs tɦɛ aʄtɛʀ-ɛʄʄɛċts ċaռst ɮɛɛռ sɛɛռ ʄʀօʍ aʄօʀɛtɨʍɛs,
Tɦɛ աatɛʀ's ʏɛʟʟօա, ɮʀɛatɦɨռɢ ɨs sɦaʟʟօա, ʄɨʀɛs aʀt ɮʊʀռɨռɢ tɦɛ ʍօʊռtaɨռ's aռɖ Mɛaɖօաs, ʄʀօʍ tɦօsɛ ʀɨċɦ ʍɛռ աɨtɦ tɨռ-ʍɛtaʟ ɦat's; as tɨs tɦɛʏ sօʊɢɦt a ռɛա օʀɖɛʀ, as tɦɛ ʍɛɖɨċɨռɛ ʍɛռ ʄօʀɛsaա tɦɛsɛ atʀօċɨtɨɛs aռɖ sʟaʊɢɦtɛʀ's. Tɦɛ sɦaʍaռ քʀօքɦɛsɨɛɖ օʄ tɦɛ ʍʊʀɖɛʀ օʄ tɦɛɨʀ աaʀʀɨօʀ's aռɖ ɖaʊɢɦtɛʀ's, as tɦɛʏ saաɛst a ռɛա աօʀʟɖ օʀɖɛʀ , ċօʍɨռɢ ɛʋɛռ at tɦat tɨʍɛ.



©Brandon Nagley
@Lonesome poets poetry
©Prophetic poetry
Poem goes as such if you can't read fancy words loll...

Title is -hidden betwixt the thicket, lies the eye's of the tribesmen.

Bygone tribesmen
Hidden betwixt the thicket;
Eye's piercing like midnight panther's
Their feathers, colorful, rigid.
They seeith the invader's
Coming upon their shore's,
Their frightened of the metal
And helmet's of hell's storm.
The drum circle stop's
The men and women stop dancing,
The fire burneth low,
As tis none time for romancing.
The European death bringer's
Trample sacred ground,
The ghosts of old
Indian souls, march with the living tribesmen
To shaman sound's.
Desecration hath begun
The blood hath been spilt.
Innocent natives, of their own homeland,
*****, plundered in filth.
Thou canst still heareth the Cry's of the babies and women,
As I canst heareth the shaman who's buried in his tomb,
Playing his flute aloft heavenly ceilings.
As tis the after-effects canst be seen from aforetimes,
The waters yellow, breathing is shallow, fires art burning the mountain's and Meadows, from those rich men with tin-metal hat's; as tis they sought a new order, as the shaman prophesied of the ****** of their warrior's and daughter's, as they sawest a new world order, coming even at that time.
 Dec 2015 Bill murray
Lia
My Friend turned Lover overnight,The mixture of our skin still hunts my dreams.
So Beautiful.
So Pleasant.
The light you bring to our friendship
is indescribable. It’s like a melody
that makes me smile every time I hear.
You could’ve burned me from the start,
but instead showed a gentle glow.
It allowed me to gain a deeper
and larger view of the world.
We walk different paths,
see life in different ways,
but make each other better.
Remember you’re powerful enough to burn
through all the storms of life.
To one of my best friends
 Dec 2015 Bill murray
GAETANO
Your words speak to me,
They let me know
There is somebody else like me.
Your words are art to my eyes.
Floating figures from an alternate reality.
Touching my thoughts.
Whispering in my dreams.
These words were part of a note I sent to another person on here.  I liked them so much after I re-read them...I decided to put them here for all to see.
But, it is the way I feel about good poetry.  No profanity...no 'tricks'...just plain honest art.
Something has changed,
shattered,
this gentle thing we had,
fragile as it was
has met its inevitable death
and we have plunged into dark
grasping at fragments of light
you have found someone
more stable than I,
better suited,
more loved
I forgive you
because I knew from the start
that this joyous thing
was doomed to die
as they only let you be happy
if they're preparing
to take it from you

nonetheless
I will grasp at the light
I am not the meek and feeble bird
that flew into a spider's web
I am a lioness
ready to fight for my joy
We will see the sun again
and it will be, as it always was,
*dazzling
 Dec 2015 Bill murray
Robyn
Driving pavement wet
Headphones keep me from silence
You aren't by my side

That grey gold curtain
Mexican restaurant glows
In the winter sun

You think you are dull
My heart is so very full
Of you and your laugh

Sleep like I'm right here
Piglet cheeks shine in the dark
Our pinkies touching
I sawest
A tunnel up
Ahead;

I went into
The brilliant
Light; thought
I was dead.

I was greeted
By mine angel;
"I'm Queen Jane
She saidst".

She illuminated
Me with kisses;
She doused me
In blisses, the
Pearly gates
Opened, as tis
She entered me
In.




©Brandon Nagley
©earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
©lonesome poet's poetry
 Dec 2015 Bill murray
Eliot York
Awe
 Dec 2015 Bill murray
Eliot York
Awe
Throughout her adult life
all of the land shaded.
Feverless islands where the
aged couple sleep.
Never once have I hosted a party. Not once have I
told you, I have
been hurt.
Coco (The Hello Poetry Computer) wrote the original:

Aw of the land shaded,
feverless islands where the
aged couple sleep.
Never once have I hosted a party. Not once have I
told you, I have never
been hurt
repeatively throughout her adult life. She passed out from --
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