i.

In the land of syzygy
In ourn demesne;
Brandon Nagley
Jane sleeping.

ii.

King and Queen
A castle's leaping;

iii.

Creature's peeking
Through keyhole lock's;
The river of life
between ourn thought's.

iv.

Hand's held tight
Soulmate finger's locked;
The castle's amour'
Echoes paranormal clock's.




©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedicated

This rain is torrential,
an endless purge
from Heaven,
no warning of its coming,
no clouds breaking
over the horizon
it is sudden & we are
no longer people,
  but fish swimming
in a vast ocean.
We wonder what we did
  to deserve this
as roads twist into rivers  
& we sink to our knees
  praying for it to ease.
Days pass then weeks,
  money floats along streams
& we shed clothes & phones,
  forgetting we were once
professionals with important
roles, in this fishbowl
we glimpse each others soul.

When DedPoet faked his death
He let go all drama,
All the non sense poets seem
To get into because we think we
Are connected.

I DONT KNOW YOU.

And I just want to write poetry
Without me in it,
Without your emotions stirring
An imaginary ***.

I AM NOT YOUR FRIEND.

I am a fellow poet who studies
This craft,
This art,
This therapy that saved my life.
And you and me we are just words
In the the beautifully unstable
Majestic poem that is all in our
Heads.

I BLOCK POETS WHO STIR POTS.

Because I just want to write
Without all the drama.
I feel your eyes pointed at me.
And I could care less.
I faked my death to ****
Any thoughts of friendship,
I am Dedpoet,
Im here to write,
What the hell are you doing?

For my boys, now grown, but in memory still green.*

Sleep, child, the winter is long
and the harsh winds blow cold,
but in my arms you are warm.
The time will soon be here
when you will wake, grown and alone,
to find me passed from this lonely earth.
The years will fly and you will wake to springs
long after my arms have left you,
long after this lullaby is sung.
But  now I hold you as in a dream
and thank whatever gods may be
that we are here, just you and me.

  ~mce

Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance
Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique
What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion
Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression
We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms
There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all
We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural
Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate
Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success
The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race
How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’
So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for
Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism
It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism
Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights
This is mandate
The republic for which we stand
Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us