i

Aloof aback the nether antechamber
Abaddon tried to calleth out mine name
Aba composition's awoke from smoke
Whilst nephilim brutes were left untamed.

ii

They bit me and they gripped me with
Their nail's of poison and polunium whip's
Through the old agaric horror play oubliette
Obelisk's, of troglodyte monstrosity!!!!

iii

The nearing was open, yet to far off
I felt the crimson color, up mine lung's I coughed
Mine calumus pinion's all were eventually lost
For I was mocked, as the legion scoffed.

iv

Scourged I was, as mine back was chopped
Like glass bead's hitting a gentle rock
They cracked mine sweetly frame, and made a pop
Mine soul was dying, mine head was lost.

v

Yet in the destination of this witching hour
Cameth in Gabriel and Michael of all unknown power's
They arrayed this hell with celestial shower's
They freed me of mine inferno, and tooketh me to the higher sire.





©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry.....

POETRY,
The gap in between thy soul
And thy unspoken words
POETRY,

Thy greatest poets
Aren't the one's who put all their money into their work's,
The greatest poets
Art the ones who art poor
With no loot
Not putting their work out there
Just writing poems in a secret notebook
For their eyes only!!!

Spurious microbes in green tank's maketh blunder's by the inch, The mut eateth their own secretion, whilst frustration of the crowd groweth hungry for martial law take-down. Strayed away by liver decay, consevator to their likeness awaits them, yet they just debate him as some unknown source....The war-torn aeroplanes art diverted by their own bucolic, idealistic and yet sadistic ways........ They play political course action.. As Lucifer is their stand in man....


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Young man only thirteen high before his dream's
Taking doses of everything,
Painpill here, something there, a few Soma's in between....

Daddy shouldn't of left out
His first bottle there to begin with,
Yet daddy gave his son those pills
Sin's the son must live and tryeth to forget...

And now the sky falls
The earth to the boy quakes,
Yet now a man he seeith all
All the lies,pain , and heartbreak

He found it out the hard way
Making deal's in alleyway scene's,
To many false Lovers to him
They all telleth tales to maketh him believe...

And so he continues to swallow down his white pills
Just to feel some reality, wherein nothing else seemeth real!!!
And though those round thing's aren't authentic, he does it from the pain, of all the farce one's that cometh again and again....

So he couldn't take none more,  that he got
Trapped in a nightmare, of numbed out demonous plot....
He took a few last white tabs, swallowed them down,
He blasted his music inside his room, blocked the door so he couldnt be found.....

Took his belt, from his closet door, Wrapped it around his neck
Couldn't get no genuine amare from noone, the next life out did he check..
.. As the invalidated he left behind to them a note, mum and dad and everyone, this life I didst not hope....

So his soul clicked, snapped outta his shirt, he fleweth away like a bird, only in his young age, a shock for everyone, for him they hadst no words..... Now he was a ghost!!!

Their only word's were they were soo sad he hadst taken this way out, now at themselves they were mad, because it was them be was talking about..
How they hadst forgotten him, and all the stuff he hadst told... He was a young angel, who so young gave up soul...

The boy who died a man, payeth a visit every now and then,
He stoppeth in with the other suicide's of were hurt and heartbroken....
And up above the man canst seeith the Heartbreakers still break,
Thinking in his mind he forgives them now, though their still fake.

And yet though their fake, he intercedes to God for them in prayers.
Because he's a true seraphim, he didn't even belong here...
His character is unlike them, he was the truest to come around,
And now the other's wilt knoweth the jewel whom they hadst let down...




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Even in the mist of those who hate
I shalt showeth love
And forgiveth their way's...

Even in the mist of those who canst loveth
I shalt move on
I'm blessed as tis its heaven I wanteth....

Even in the fog of those who shalt not believeth
I knoweth who I am
It's their own selves they deceiveth

Even in the dark wherein these lost souls linger
Mine soul is the light
The pinpoint of God by streamers.....

Even in all of mine crucifixions by many
They put holes in mine hand's
And a crown of Thorn's on mine head ......

One problem friend,
I'm already dead.........

Spiritually alive!!!!!

The true light....

i.

Zoi mou, how mine nourishment
Cometh from the great I am;
As his sentience he gaveth
Thee, to breatheth life in-
to me; for before I was
Just a man.

ii.

Beforetime, mine
mien was gloom-
And doom, no albedineity whitewashed mine room,
Amorevolous was just a word to be spelt, not having it close to me; just a moment of REM sleep.

iii.

Agapi mou, now I've been broken loose,
Mine once dolor, hath formed with color;
It shineth of yellow, and angelic ivory
Pearl.

iv.

Anasa mou, I'm purring now, pofray swathes
Mine veins; Moro mou of younger shade.
Matia mou, O' Matia mou, mine Jane hath
Entered, inside mine blue's.

v.

Jane O' Jane, sayest I
Thelo to thou, thelo to thee;
Omorfia mou,
Kardia mou,
Psihi mou,
Thelo O'
Thelo.



©Brandon Nagley
©lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou) dedication

i.

I shalt play
The piano and lrye;
To put her to sleep.

ii.

I shalt strum
Her heart's desire;
Inside of her keep.

iii.

I shalt swoon her
In ecstasy marriage;
Lover's entwined
Magical carriage.



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

Plush gadget men, strapped with rounded green circular things, pig's of high class weapon. Mustard seed, to ghastly. Their deed's ***** and satire flaming. Guillotine wagon's to be put into FEMA cache camp's, the 200 million man army to cometh, a false prophet to bloweth mind's, wherein crime wilt seemeth as a prize to the suckling babies.. Rat's and scabies to infest the white pillar mansion! **** thy cigarette's and fathom, what thy blue bowling ball couldst hath been. Calleth it greenhouse gas, I sayeth get out the gas mask's and survive the fan flying ship's!! Martial law to be given as commandment's, citizens shalt turneth ****, normal wilt be blood running down thy alleyway signs reading (STOP) the red paint to be the mark of the martyr's, desolate and slaughtered. The day wilt be shorter, as night to colden longer. Suicide vests to be strapped to the terrorist chest, as mothers turneth against brother's, and sister's against father's! Heart's wilt faulter the man's conscious thinking, the skeleton's wilt be stinking, as the maggot's of hell doth rise ... New age Rome to collapse as a domino on grandma's stove. À triumphant death, the devil wilt smile, until his days art outnumbered by the chariot riders, of Jehovah's miracle Mile..........


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Prophetic poetry

i.

A crane cometh around
Down by the superannuated rivulet;
No machinery by this place
Mud bank's, phantom silhouette's.

ii.

I canst sense
The Miami Indians prowling the copse;
Their regard for living was natural
As the new ager's that came after, destroyed the crop's.

iii.

Thou canst seeith the moccasin's
Slithereth down the way;
Their black scale's, telleth tale's
Of a time of freedom's day.

iv.

I goeth down to this old tributary
Whence the land was hunted by bow;
I'm respecting the land, as it shalt be
Not doing as the newbies know.

v.

As the babies groweth, and the ghost's do showeth
The narrative that's meant to be left;
I shalt keepeth the aboriginal modus operandi
And walketh with the spirit's, of this place they hath lent.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

She's a *******,
To all the little light pin-points in the sky....
She's heaven,
With the moon to be her eyes..

i

I seeketh one, to not showeth me amour in parable's
I seeketh not one, to maketh me feeleth as if some variable;
I needeth one to behold me, forthwith in her humbled eye's
I needeth one whosever, mayest showeth me reality before I die.

ii

I hopeth anon, she shalt be here to hold this trembling hand
None tare's in mine romantic view, only a queen diamond glued;
Hither she'll cometh, and fall upon me into mine worried chest
I want to feeleth her head, upon mine pillow and bed, with rest.

iii

Thence to haveth a best friend, with a angel ring upon her finger
We'll sing and dance, sweet romance, whereupon our dinner;
Victuals of finest respect, fruit glassed to meet ourn fast needs
For a dove to landeth upon ourn rooftop, wherein serpahim sing.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry

I don't hate the racist
I hate the racist theology,
Not the racist..

Accolade me steadfast surfeit of theology
Transcend me arousily
Whilst a rainbow we shalt climb as touchstones

Hand signs and megaphones!!!

Mine Spanish amour'
The one I talk of daily,
Well anyways

Me and her mine Spanish amare
Hast the moon as ourn bolster headrest
And the planet as ourn footstool's

As for the stars
And the asteroids

Well I can telleth thou this...............
They dance for us,

And what a show we get to enjoy!!!

And the best part
Between the moon and stars

Is when I see her smile
Than I knoweth its all for something!!!

Oriental desire
Wherein art thou
To lighteth mine fire?
Stuck in the mire,
Mine lung's sticketh from its own collapse
Perhaps this queen I awaiteth
Is right around the corner,
Perhap's I'm dead?
Or just in illusion mode
Yet all I knoweth
Is I want to go home.
As this spirit calleth out,
For its other half;
It's other soul.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

A poet needeth not pen and paper
To writeth down their prophetic vision's;
A poet, is one of the soul
As the soul
Keepeth all poetry by memory,
Not needing some pen and paper. .



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

The poet
To God
Is an apostle
Of wisdom;

The poet
To God
Is the bringer
Of God's kingdom;

The poet
Created by their Creator
Writeth heavenly knowledge down
On spiritual paper;



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

She's the light
That leadeth the way;
She's the prayer
By which I pray.

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

The crow on the right of me
The Raven tis on mine left;
The Raven Squawk's forevermore
As tis the crow recite's Macbeth.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

When the crowd leaveth,
We seeith who the real ones art...

Acclimate away you accustom to rabble streets, calculate thy cantankerous beef with another diabolic past!!
Destine connoisseur,

Old things get older while thy love stays newer!!!
What a hope to hope for something!!!!

Bare faced sophomore,
Soporific enducing trips to styles of maxed out galore....

Domineers on every corner,
Where youngest of mourners art ourn own children,
Gravitational to all pull ins,
Guided by ourn own sins we set our own adversities!!!!

When wilt we climb out of ourn own hutch?
Our brittled bunch doesn't think of two but one!!

Jilt all thou will falsifiers,
Killers and liars,
Were all wrapped tight to the same metropolis line!!!

Okaying thyself?
Canst we OK what's wrong and not fine?

Schzoid scribble ******* in,
Undeniable on planet green earth!!!

Underhanded,
Diploma drop ins,
Morphine moratorium so Grey thy sounds are!!!!

Yet thy smiles so beautifully wide!!!!!

Seek as thou finds,
Find all though you mayeth hide!!!

The scorch is over to be bear!!

Where is the opulent Queen who I seek?
Yet hasn't found me yet...

Tis,
She is the rose;
Without any Thorn's.....





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

I  seeketh one to NOT loveth me out of their lonesomeness
Tis I get lonesome to, but;
I seeketh one to loveth me for me, and me, her for her,
A love so true....



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Woe,
Woe!!!!!
To those who shall listen,
Thy fortresses and bunkers shall have no protection for thou rich dweller,
Howl and moan for better days to construct,
Thine yards shall be uprooted and plucked by thou fathers wrath you have forgotten!!
Eateth thine own prepped storeaways you quenchors to idols,
Rejecter to bibles,
The missing will politely strike,
Where the rattlesnake shall bear its territorial bother,
Chopped and slithered you shall have thine econonomic collapse!!!

Wake from thine nap ,
Coffee addicted shadows,
Billowed and awaiting fellows,

Know your mind is not on a trip,
But/a dip to hell and back../

Break thy backs,
And sow thine seeds,
Teress  as you bleedeth from/ the creatures you'll become again!
Ultimate end...

False peace is on the horizon,
Where thine batteries won't match Verizon,
For calls will be palapable and moribund by altitude!
Such gratitude!!! NOT..

Post thine photos and crop,
For they shall be the last thine self may post!!

List and ***** and swander in no charity humbleness,
For adore thine acrillic dish,
From out of thine bowl of wrath you shall eateth!!!!

I'm existing,
Yet not living,
I'm resisting,
                     Due to the despair of being hurt!
I'm restless
Panic disorder
I have a wish list
                     Yet only seek a queen of other borders
I'm lonesome
I'm miry
I'm ghostsome
                     A hopeless romantic who still hast hope!
Such a paradox eh?

I'm searching
Yet needeth one close
A phone call even
                     A loving host!!

I'm young
I'm oldened in time
I'm relic,
                    (Hopeless romantic) reads as mine sign!!
                                                  Route "9"

i.

The poet doth not loveth
In pocket-sized increment's;
The poet loveth
In lyrical abundance.

ii.

The sonneteer doth not dieth
For his or her amour' in natural death;
The bard's succumbing is purest loving
For their soulmate they perish every last breath.


©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry

A Grecian statue I am, a confined creation; a harbinger, a shouter of biblical presages. Only here to tell of God's word, of Christ's love offered to voices silenced.

To the rich, poor, sick, down-and-out;
To boys, men, women, children-
Girls.

None pen nor pencil or writing tool needed, for the Lord's blood was
Shed for all the lost and
Mistreated,

Tis Satan was defeated.

Christ gave up the holy-ghost,
As thus his soul left that cross,
Buried, Rose again the third
Day; for God succeeded,
The devil lost.

Mine time is almost up now,
For mine job is almost done;
Soon I'll go meet mine savior,
As I prayest that Jesus Christ
Wilt be the one.

The one who thou shalt call out
To, for tis Jesus Christ that saves,
The way, the truth, the life;

The water that never runs dry,
The way to heaven up past the sky,
The bread of life that wilt make thee full,
The son of God who died for me,

The son of God who died for you......

© Brandon nagley
© Lonesome poets poetry
© Prophetic poetry

i.

She hath given me a home
Sent by God she was;
Unearthly, to men unknown.

ii.

She hath breathed the breathe
Of life;
Wherein all is right.

iii.

She showeth me day
In mine dismay;
She's the sparkle to me, at night.


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

I remember being a fledgling of this old polish town, though "not polish mineself", I still had a respect for this place despite all the bad reputation for the polish many shalt speaketh of ( yet I loveth all people's) !!!

Anyways,
Back to the story lad....

There was an older, kinder, gentler, stranger soul in this town. As all of ( Rossford) "mine town" kneweth it as well..... This soul that lingered the old mainstreet strip was named ( Yanos) a man that wasn't ordinary by any means!!! An original Polish being from across his motherland. His knees weakly, his finger's frail, a brown old hat, with a coat to match.....People never got his walking up and down the corridor drag ( with candy in a bag), whilst at the same time picking up lost pennies, ( loose change) jewels to him off the ground!!! Some thought that he was some homeless man, some thought what a crazy fool, others knew it was just his strange soul that was different in all ways to them.......... He wasn't them (as I can more than relate with)!!! He'd  waltz up and down the artery ( Dixie highway) as if he was a spirit with not a care in the world, as if the world was oblivious to him... Heck, the world couldst haveth been burnt down, ( Yanos) wouldn't know.... See, Yano's always did something I shalt always remember,and something children back then couldst not forget...... He always tooketh some of that spare change he found from the ground, and even his own money ( from retirement with this old city) and go to the store ( used to be the pharm, now rite aid). And he wouldst buyeth bags of sucker's, ( OK Maby the cheap kind)!!! But the fact he'd spend all his time going and buying these sucker's, and wouldst passeth them out to any little children who wouldst walketh passed him.... All kiddies loved him, and even the one's who didint knoweth him ( Had great respect for this wandering soul that was just visiting in spirit form)..... Some of course thought ( just another ****** walking picking up pennies and giving candy to kids) ... Yet those art the same people miserable who knoweth not what love is!!!! Yet as I saweth Yano's do this for years for other's ( including giving me sucker's) I kneweth that this specimen was just visiting to giveth us a hint of love( then return back home)..... When he died, I went to his funeral..... People like me who didst not knoweth him, payed ourn deepest respects.... He cameth over here in the 1940s I found out by ship. From Poland of course !!!! And he was an ex-polish soildier... A man of high dignity, and most respected... As me and mine mother and father all stood in front of his casket, I thought how strange since noone kneweth the real him!!! Only his kind act's of love and and kindness to other beings...... But I kneweth this man was just passing through....... As god sent him here in the form of a humble peasant buying and giving away sucker's out of his golden chalice energy, God wanted him back home..... And I'm sure now, ( Yano's is the one who's getting the sucker's now, instead of him passing them out)... Or Maby He's still passing those suckers out to the infant ones in  heaven... Because he's a humbled soul.... And I shalt never forgetteth ( the candy man)

God bless thou Yano's old friend......

The
Devil weareth
A suit
And a tie
He's
A wallstreet guy........



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

The espiridion is existant in the bright of the dawn
The achak meanderer's wear clarion tunic's
Whilst their lips art muted
To afterlife song's...
Their hair unseen
Though floweth long,
They cometh in thy dream's
Sometimes in scream's,
Sometimes to the good...
Their lost,
Misunderstood
No cost
Couldst giveth them new good's....
Sometimes their Ahriman
Disguised as good warrior's,
Though the arcangel Gabriel
Lends his sword to the spiritual border's...
Tyrents come steadily
As ready the ghost's art,
Though much protection surrounds me
When I'm alive...
And when this baggage depart's....


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

She loads pockets with cheapened Walmart goods,
Her words misunderstood,
As she babbles on strong drink!

Puke in her sink,
Yes that's a daily thing!!

Wrapped in thine sling young one of cheaply treasures?
For thy worse could be better,
If you wrote  down all your thoughts!!!
For thy love cannot be bought,
But dropped in fukashima form!!!

Thief in store..

Though I have robbed too,
For I am like you,
When the rain comes tumbling down...

Come gather ’round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You’ll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’ or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin’

Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won’t come again
And don’t speak too soon
For the wheel’s still in spin
And there’s no tellin’ who that it’s namin’
For the loser now will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin’

Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don’t stand in the doorway
Don’t block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There’s a battle outside and it is ragin’
It’ll soon shake your windows and rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin’

Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don’t criticize
What you can’t understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is rapidly agin’
Please get out of the new one if you can’t lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin’

The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is rapidly fadin’
And the first one now will later be last
For the times they are a-changin’

The most dim and horrid of all truth's in amour sometimes;

I seeith so many couple's, wherein there's always one lover
Who telleth the other lover " I loveth thee hunny "
And the one who was told their loved,
Replies back " O thank's...............
Such a sad horrid Truth,
Though the one's who told the one's they loveth
That they loveth them and yet got none response
But an ' O thank's, still continueth to loveth that other person
Because that's what true love is............
Yet also, sometime's, the person who sayeth they loveth the other
Some time's wilt just moveth on, from the pain of not ever hearing the same word's and action's back of true amour',
Because fact is, one canst not waisteth time
Giving all their love to one who canst even sayeth it back!!!!
And canst even showeth it back,
Though the person who moved on
Still loveth the other person;
Tis they've realized
Someone else just might sayeth it back
Since the other couldn't say it....
Love is a duo, not a one way street
And if a one way street;
It's not truest amour' on the other person's behalf......
And sadly I seeith this alot to;
That when the person who never saidst those words back
To the one who loveth them
They regret never saying the three word's to the one they do loveth, and they realize at that last moment
How much they loved the other person all along;
Yet were to afraid to sayeth it at the time
Out of fear of being hurt........
Amour's harsh truth sometimes.......

Traveling through the dusk tunnel
A pinpoint of light at the end;
Warmth overtaketh me
The beginning of life's around the bend.

One hundred kin
Waiting to greet me in;
All smiling, all radiating
Ages range from five to one-hundred and nine,
Some looketh old, though all's young: no age existeth, time here is not told. Age only existeth back on earth, though here; all age's art the same, no one is special by their birth.

Betwixt mine family standeth tall mine savior and lord
Jesus Christ the king; with angel's whom standeth beside him, as tis they speaketh together telepathically. In Christ's hand's he reacheth out to me- as whilst I looketh at his eye's aqua green, the universe showeth itself in a way to Man unseen; and whilst at that moment clearly I hadst seen the hole's in his Palm's and feet, his word's " cometh hither mine son" I bowed in front of mine kin to him instantaneously.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry

As a youthful calf,
I bleat upon mine
Other-half's
Picture's.

The thirst for her
Is unwavering; I
Want to feeleth
Her mango Cheek's,
Her coconut hair,
Betwixt mine
Finger's untangling.

Over ourn dwelling,
I seeketh these word's;
In foregone spelling.

Hɛʀɛ ʀɛรiɗɛร
Jɑɳɛ ɑɳɗ Bʀɑɳɗѳɳ'ร pɑʆɑcɛ ѳԲ ʆѳѵɛ,
Eɳtɛʀɛtɦ ɓy tɦɛ Բѳuɳtɑiɳ tѳp wɦɛʀɛiɳ
Tɦɛ wɑtɛʀ cѳɱɛtɦ up; tɦɛ ɑquɑ ɑʆwɑyร Բʆѳwɛtɦ
Hɛʀɛ, tɦitɦɛʀ tɦɛ Luzѳɳ gʀɛɛɳ, wɛʆcѳɱɛ ɑʆʆ pѳɛt'ร,
Tѳ tɦɛ pʆɑcɛ tɦɑt kɛɛpɛtɦ ɑ quɛɛɳ ɑɳɗ kiɳg.
Dѳɳ't Բѳʀgɛt, ѳɳ tɦy wɑy ѳut, tɑkɛtɦ ѳuʀɳ รѳɳɳɛt'ร
OԲ pѳɱɑʀiѳuร ɗɛѵѳtiѳɳ, tɦɛʀɛiɳ ʆiɛtɦ ʀѳɱɑɳʝɑɳtic
Pѳtiѳɳ'ร.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedication

Wherein the Angel's dieth
The world doth cryeth;
And the world doth falleth
Wherein the Angel wings don't flyeth.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Popular
I dont seeketh popularity,
If I did
I wouldn't be me
And if I gaveth in
To what the world wanted me to write for them
I'd be worldly
As for me
Im not worldly
And truth is
The quote(popular poets)
Speaketh of wordly knowledge
Though I dont seek popularity I do say
Because of this world
Tis I'm not,

And I'd rather have none not like mine writing's
Just means I'm telling them truth
They dont seek to hear!!


And that gives me peace !!!

This world was not
Meant; for an angel's
Display, the angel only
Cometh, to bringeth light
In dark day's.

The angel's only
Place, is from the
Star's wherein they
Came. The angel's
Art of God, not of
The world's hate.

The angel's art the
Bringer's, the messenger's
Of life; they cometh O' they
Goeth, they leaveth by the night.

The angel's art fading
Dying in mystical wind's;
Their partially human to,
For they've indulged in
Worldly sin's.

The world was not
Meant; for an angel's
Display. For an angel
Only cometh, to giveth
Light to empty flames.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry

Tis
The world that doth not understand them
As the two left the world behind long ago
To worship eachother in romance
To maketh love in sackcloth snow!!!

Tis,
The world will never get them
Their extraterrestrial seraphim
Where the moon meets the planet's
Wherein the stream of life flows and runs!!!

Pharmacare insurance breakers,
Batteries to light incensed toiletries,
Smell the man next to thou,
That's thine night scented laboratory!

Light flickers to non electrical chords,
Shufflers to peddlers,
The hoarders and robbers art felonious skirds!!!

Long/night lonesomeness for thy journeys a shallow hell!
Two unknowns to a cell,
How compassionate thou are not!!!

Steal what thou has,
Forget what thou has got....
Turmoiled,
Soiled crook!!!!!

Study the firm release junk.

Tired eyed pest,
You seek the streets,
You concludeth the best!!!!

For little is better, yet is better than big in thus shoe in?
No win on win to matcheth catchy amend!!!

Scared yet?

Holiday hussies,
Mix matched fussy!!!
You complain for now....

Thou art broken and poor, hath thy infallibility lost to thine loser next to your own score?

Pathetic patriot who stands next to a country who steals your time,
They trade it,
They display it,
On shores of emegri kind.
What a mongrel of mankind!!!!!

They taketh all for granted, they smile whilst they ****
On ****** they savor over, like hellion getting their Thrill's;
They hath to drink to numb, they hath to tune out by pill's
They've lost the truth meaning, of giving without seeking deal's.

They've thrown it all to the wind, aloft the heaven's they've come
Their fears and tears art heavy, wherein their cruor is succumb;
They drinketh of nothingness, they art their own chosen one's
Bombing another out of land difference, tanning to the sun.

Lover's of themselves, they seeketh to giveth none charity
They awake to the darkness, their in much disparity;
And whilst the moon cometh out, they howl like stray dog's
They seeketh only themselves, in reality they loseth all.


©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poet's poetry

I met the oldtiming hentchmen 
At the oldtime lonesome gallows
Tied the rope mineself
And jumped the wooden shadblow!!!

Aglow upon the sacret hills where doctors and pills are no combinations to broken locks!!!
Aggrandize, and secularize our departmental business,
Where crispiness is quaint aware of old age!!
Departure,
Set me away from tombstone graves,
From unpaid day's,
Where's your secrecy when I need thou?
Where's the mischievous,
For who's who?
And what's on what?
Misdeed done wrong,
Tomorrow's philosophy is now the special soot!

Jurisprudence caretaker,
Trimmed faker,
Your document is thine own to sign!!
Melanomic, chronotonic, your hair is split so fine!!!

We are all sculptees of new day lad's,
Where spirit tuning fads prouse roudily!!

Where's the most tormented of heaven- made wines?

Oh vindicate me unseen force,
Where no more pain no remorse can shutter the masterpiece fold!!!!!
Where thy new meets the old and fools give all for warm troves,
Troves of weds,
Where wed's have two beds_
Making one comfy piece!!!!

Where kings and queens have big feast's,
At rounded  splintered tables!!!!

Where all beings have newest of labels,
To rest upon their feet.!!!!!!!!

Are we new in creation yet?

Or struck as lost unloved beasts?

Regular being's
Like to thinkest, outside the box;
I tend to thinkest
Outside of this dreadful world.

©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poet's poetry

I feel a heart attack approaching

She Sayeth to me
She'd be gone for thirty minutes!!!

And thirty minutes goes a long way......

When thy heart needs its medication!!!

Bullet sounds--- ............./ (boy) crying sounds....help me, help me....
Soildier- I'm here young one, I am here!!!
Boy/ thank you sir, the bomb's are soo loud overhead in this land amongst the dead, I thought not that anyone shall hear me.....
The soildier smiled as he reached out his hand!!! (Yet a strange glow illuminates from him soo unnatural to man)
The soilder's appearance changed rapidly before the wartorn boys eyes....
Boy- looks up at him seeing only blindly apparel... And these words would forever shake this young ones soul!!!
The words of the soildier- come unto me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.......
Boy- cries with a smile worn as a flag!!!!!
At that second the young child knew he was being held by god, as he left the place of hell his spirit awoke to the lord himself!!!!
As that soildier- kept on smiling.../
So gracefully!

This is for all of you who have complimented me own work or just liked a poem of mine or shared mine own, I just want to thank all of you for doing such, as all of you are beautiful wonderful god inspiring talents!!! As your creations I admire soo much and makes me want to write more thanks to all of you!!! Use your words for good and not hate nor evil nor bad, prophesize with thy tounges, spill your heart and soul out and let god write through you, and you can reach magnitudes the world cannot fathom!! For I'm dealing with a very hard time in me own life!!! So thank all of you beautiful poets for liking me own stuff as you all inspire me daily and make me remember the world still has some beauty left in it!! Thank you!!!!
Lonesome poet Brandon Cory nagley!
God bless!!!

I just found out from a good friend that miss jc Stole and reposted mine own poem dwindling on her page making people think its her poem.. . to you Mrs Jc... And other people who come on this site to make us miserable, I don't hate you.. Actually I feel sorry for you and believe more than ever you need God in your life and for someone to care for you.. sad thing is.. Good people left like me don't hate you nor am I mad at you... I know you have some good down in that soul... So please on mine behalf and others stop copying poems from me and from others and stop acting like a nitwit on a page for people to express their souls and hearts.. People already have bad enough days..  Like alot on here just as you have bad enough day.. How about everyone on here copies your work and posts it as theirs???? Huh jc? What than?
Or what if we constantly cut you down daily when noone did before and now from your childish bullcrap you've brought this on you... Like the others who have done that here.... Soo I'm not mad at you again nor do I hate you.... I forgive all and love all beings.. I pray you find your inner peace and God and true love and stop messing with others true love and poems and their own selves..... . your broken.. Angry at yourself God and the world... And you decide to take your anger and pain out in others.   Well guess what? Not me JC!!!!! Not me.. I'm forgiving.. But unlike alot I will draw you out...not from rage or anger but to show you people are trying to helpppppppppp youuuuuuuuu!!!! Why? You ask because they have good souls??? Now where is that good soul I know you have in you Mrs Jc? Huh where is it.... Stop covering yourself with a mask and for once except others help... Though you don't feel love... From a being to another being who cares for your well-being.. Because you are soo unhappy it will lead you down to more major damage to your self. Others and more God...... Can't you see people in HP love you.??? And you wanna lose the privilege of people trying to help you? What then when people stop trying to help? You'll lose yourself... Which I can see you are losing self now.... Again not mad don't hate you.  But except our love and trying to help you instead of you harming us .   thank you

Brandon cory NAGLEY!!!!