I'm the prophetic freak on the corner
       Holding up the sign;
                       "The end is near"
                               Whilst the crowd point's and stare's......
                



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

A charm to be her eyes,
An amulet to be her heart
A sapphire as her soul
I knew her from the start!

i

No longer do I feeleth so lonesome, as realist friend's art in view
God sitteth right next to me, in his grace, I'm pulled from the pit;
I no longer am thirsty, I haveth all I do needeth, none more bleeding, but seeing in all perspective now, I'm alive, none death.

ii

None more saying alas, mine heart is fused back together, thus before it was shattered to be glass, though this vessel is conjoined; back to wherein it was, its freely sweetened, mine depression is overcometh, from experience and love I'm greeted.

iii

I'll taketh the good, when the good doth showeth, I'll grabbeth the hand's, of truest dearest one's, I'll continue in spirit, and kindly floss the others hatred with love; dead yet living in a state unknown to Misfortunate's, given against the awe of existing.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry

Thy world thou shall live by,
And by thine world shall you be taken!!!

Awaken...

Just wanna say a quick thank you Soo much to all who's liked me poetry, and I love all yours!! As all you inspire me!!!
You all give me more hope as the half human left in me, and you all give me smiles. And make me to remember what living is!!! And again thanks for liking me own work!!! Can't thank you enough!!! Keep up beautiful artworks and masterpieces.... May god bless you and thy life!! And love!! And family

Thank you!

Brandon cory nagley!!

Man built his babbled tower
As it was bound to falleth
And once again
Man builds babbling towers all over this planet
And once again shalt it fall to hellion ashes!!!

I seeketh one to cuddle me,
In cold nights,
And empty dreams!
For now I lay this soul to rest,
Tis I'll ponder the gardens of emptiness,
I'll hope for a love,
A bird,
A feather,
A pear to pick,
Mine finger I'll *****,
For blood to be ourn vows
Which becometh love letters!!!!

I know HP people are rubbing off on me because when I comment I always say nice ( writing) when I like a poem
While all others say (nice write) lol its OK guess I'm the different one to use writing word instead of nice write.... But anyways notice all you HP people how you talk is rubbing off on me lol well that's a family for ya... Rubbing off on eachother hahaha love you HP people ();
Well point I'm making is I just caught meself telling someone ( nice write) like all of you lollll rubbing off on me HP..

Saddened angel
Perched just beyond the universal step's;
Giving a last breathe.





©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

If one did surgery on mine heart
The blood wouldst floweth
Endlessly

With the love for her
I hold!!!

She slathered me in her froth
As I got lost into her mouth
She excepted me as a brute
I gave her mine soul in a pouch

सार्वजनिक रूप से जनता में प्यार, प्यार में, दो serpahim पंख रहने वाले तू तेरा मृत लग रहा है, जिसमें प्रसार करने के लिए !
Hindi version-

English version+

Publicly in love, love in public, two serpahim wings to spread, wherein the living shalt feel thy dead!!!

I'm a complexed being,
Tis,
Strange I am to thou
Not of this world,
Yet I dont want to be figured out,
I seeketh to be loved!!!

No poem sorry

As thy worldlies do,
Why hide mine amour'?
Why hide mine feelings?
If tis real!!!!

Amour'
It would be naught!!
If having to hide.......

I am an intimate being
Unlike any other thou hast never met
Nor ever will meet,

As I proudly
Banner mine love

With a parade of roses
And a throne,
                        To carry mine queen upon!!!

Flaxen seed amour', mine all, distant shored plore I giveth thee...
Begging on hand's and knees to letteth me fill thine wound's with holiness serum...... A lilac blush I shalt layeth upon thy cheek as blushing thou shalt do, from all mine affection towards thee, and me and thou through the celestial darkness shalt wing to the moon....we shalt maketh the news,
As the silent human's shalt be tearied eyed from ourn devotion!!
Ourn bodie's to sway in unearthly motion to smile at eachother's reflection's again....trading in all sin for ournselves to be reincarnated to ourn past life selves... As ourn finger's shalt swell.........

From locking ourn ring's soo tightly!!!!!!

Angelic matrimony ring's I mean.....

There's no reasons
To ask question's  
of eachother,
For we both already know
That we art already together!!!

Every time I seeketh her
She always falls asleep
Yet I guess I'll let her rest
May her soul get some peace..

He broke her innocent barrier
Now she can't get enough
She's addicted,
Shhh...
Secret stuff
();;;

As the world
Ended by nuclear collision
And meteorite downfall

Tis
I sat
And watched it end

As I was the only hopeless romantic left,

Sitting in the clouds

As I had already prearranged mine spacecraft
To come pick me up..

To taketh me away from that planet
Who kneweth not love!!!

Tis ironic yes?
These people with all the loot in their pockets
Spend thousands of dollars on new
Pearly white enamels....

Yet its the poor tribesman
In a faraway country
With no teeth....

That hast the most beautiful of smiles..

Mine lonesome eyes,
                                     Drowning in sorrow....


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Gifted star children are particular!! Divine and connected from within..

A block to the human mind has distorted unearthly visions!! No mentioning their fears, for their just as us!!!

An oriental Indian musk breezes past cold stone faces, for ourn babies cannot take the places of murderers and greedy shine shoed ******!!!

mothers *****!!!

Primary ordinance is past by men in Prada suits. Yet dress shoes to army boots don't match!!! For where art they hiding as poor men break their own backs!?

Wallowing in caves deep in earth's magnetic core? Trembiling, on ships of unknown ships ashore? Invasion of thy process of the mind that is!

Tis, soo digest and plush! Pounds for the push! Civilized string tied being, thy tomb has been unsealed! Milked bottles are dripping such in a frenzy.

Ponzi schemer, gonzo writer! When shalt thou fly free???

Her harmonious melody
Is when she thinketh of me
She's fine
She's pure
She's caught me
In her allure......

A woman
Not a girl
Who giveth all to other's
Though needs guided herself
A beautiful inner being
With demons who tryeth to take her to hell,
Though she stomps them!!!!!
Back to hades
Forever I shalt be here
For mine unearthly baby..

Nopoem

Ambrosial language I quest for thy heavenly manner
Mine life's running short
I canst seeith the drab channel's lantern's.
I don't needeth criss-cross paterns
Just a I loveth thou
Not an adieu
Farewell's art to common
I needeth one thick and through.
The bask of sensuality
I want to afire this chill
I'm stuck in a maze
Like a phantom in place
Trying to make mine way
Back home....

Her tattered fissure's
Art the death of me
If I canst maketh her smile
I giveth her heaven to see....

And tis
That,

That Always maketh her simper.....

TELEVISION
MIND CONTROL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!¡!!!!!!!!¡!!!
TECHNOLOGY
LOOSETH THY OWN SOUL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!¡!!!!!!!!!!¡

As I more than knoweth dearest reader
The one's with the biggest smile sometimes;
Art the one's with the biggest hole's in their heart's.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry

It's nice for a time
To not get high on some drag pill,
For music is making me ******....
I'm getting mine fill....

The rich get greedier
The poor ones expire
No more hopeless romantic poets
To maketh a muse of  his attire
For what's required?
To loose thy world
And gain thy truest love?
Thou must let go of pride
Be humbled
To mi amour mode!!!!!

Mine feathered hair
And mine nineteen sixty seven side-burn's
Yes I'm happy
With being a different kind of poetic turn...

Though highly I do not think of mineself
I guess I'm just happy
Being someone else.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Nothing

Danse petits gitans, haute la poussière de fée et hobbit ale...
( french tongue)

English version-

Dancing little gypsies, high off fairy dust and hobbit ale..

I seest so many interweb connected lover's telleth eachother
Especially here;
"I loveth thee"
Doth thou?
Wouldst thou die for that amour?
Asketh thyself that question;
Wouldst thou really die for them?
If tis yes,
That's love
That's love......



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry

Poet,
For thyself can speak great murmurings and swelling's from thine aperture,
                           Tis,
                                 That's easy for anyone!!!
But canst thou expatiate prophesying philosophy???

I thought I was high,
******!!!

As I stepped off her flying saucer
Stepping down onto her neptunian planet
Everything felt so real
It was real
She's me
She mi amour'
Queen of distant shore!!!!

I don't seeketh for one to just love mine poems
I seeketh one to loveth me,
The king behind those poems...

Lost, trying to find mine own way again, I see beautiful butterflies chalking the sky with their fairy dust mononomous, actors and actresses of primal show tune.

Forget thine news, for I am real lost one!! Forget something Didst we? Lost to thy sun!?

I want a cool easing tonic, where your brains numbing, none moronic may enter on in!!
Whimsical whisps!!

I thought I saw a shadow of a queen, yet wrong again,
Only mine own to follow me,
Asking questions such as?

Where's your love oh thine lonesome poet?
Where has she pondered to?
For me as your shadow I need fulfilling as well...

At that moment I wish I could of put to death mine own shadow,

Because its that dark lingering force,
That reminds me ,
There's none for me...
Still wept by mine self...
Writing these dreadful lyrics...../

There's a feeble minded man
Behind his palisade door
The door bell rang
It was God standing on the other side
I told the old man
( thou better let him in)
Trust me ( I said to the old man)
This man's no stranger...
If anything
Thy own neighbors a stranger...
Now let god in!!!

Marlboro reds
Reds of Marlboro
Cancer sticks
To bring ease to one sorrows!!!

Queen of GOD
Harped angel of the unknown;
Awaken mine bones.




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry

I feeleth a calming tranquility
Coming over mine lid's;
I left mine body completely
I'm alive whilst dead.

Whilst dead, I'm a child
Reborn from the ash;
Critic's art forgiven
And I'm smiling in bask.

No definite task's, for to do
I'm freely engulfed, by amare so true;
With the shaman, and the falcon feather to
Prowling the countryside, the hills as mine muse.

No threatening combinations
A key and no lock;
To enter the straightaway
Breaking the box.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Good morning undealt hand,
Unspilt sand varies thy time between distant minds!!

Another lonesome life today I preserve?
Nothing to be heard,
All things are so unsure when thine dead burieth thy own dead!!!

Is that thou?
Or thine past prisoner's number??

Everyone points at the prophet
Til the prophecy comes true
Now their bowing their heads
On hands and knees to...

Everyone's a master poet
Until
One day...

They stop getting all those likes
On their whimsical page,

Than thats the part
Where they
Threaten to leave H.P!!!!

Ha!!

But tis
They always stay!!!

I seeith the ember's
Over the affluent man's head,
They hideth their treasure's
Underneath their Bunker's and beds...
Feeling alive
Their soon to be dead
I'll be in the cloud's
The widow's and hungry need fed.
Let the planet be filled
With its own spit
They've forgotten love
And it's themselves they forget...
Putting time into money
And money into time
Locking innocent's in jail
Whilst doing evil crimes
The time hath come
The red doth run
No more laughter
And no more fun...
The rioter's loot
The anarchist's gun....
The bomb's shalt explore
Their minds to implode
Wherein the devils will falter
And the veil wilt collapse
No media attendees
Wilt giveth their stash
All to be hidden
Though opened by all
Their secret's revealed
In a holy flaw

Crafted extraterrestrial,
              Finely knit woven,
                          Shiftshaper to elequance of flesh.
                                              A fruit organic, so fresh....

Poetry
Is what mine soul speaketh to thee
When it want's one to listen...

I beseech one to imprison me
In her lonesome heart like mine;
To loveth and careth for me
Until the end, and beyond time.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry