It's not a hobby. Be prepared to give your life to it.
Read, read, read: The more poetry you read now,
the better your's will become.
Don't quit your day job. No one ever got rich writing poetry.
If you are seeking fame or to get laid,
there are obviously easier methods.
Ignore criticism, unless it is useful, and even then be wary.
Consider: Your feelings do not constitute the universe;
your love life may not be all that interesting.
Write every day. Don't wait for the Muse.
She is a fickle ***** prone to take random vacations.
Forget originality. It will paralyze you.
Write like a ******. That's what poets are.
Look forward to embarrassing yourself.
Say it in the fewest, best words.
Nothing is easy. Be prepared to burn for it.
Be joyful, though you have considered all the facts.

~mce

chew your thoughts with your mouth open

i want to see
all of you
teeth, tongue, throat, synapse, neuron
stammers and spasms and
flashes of crippling vulnerability
streams of lucid genius
speechlessness' met with
one single look that utters sunsets
giddy ****** kid

i want it
glitch and all

I can never read you
You've written your book in a language only you understand
And I'm tired of being confused

I thought I liked being only a friend
Now I get that I don't
So take my hand and teach me

The best way to get over an issue,
Is really quite simple in my eyes,
Simply stop viewing it as a problem,
And it becomes a nice surprise.

A death becomes a family day out-
Put the fun back into funeral!
The deceased has probably moved on,
To a place that's far more beautiful.

Your lovers left you? Not to worry,
The memories are here to stay,
And if we're going to honest,
She's probably happier this way.

Can't afford to pay off the mortgage?
Cheer up, silly - let's go camping!
It was just bricks and mortar anyway,
And the place needed revamping.

If you lose your job keep that chin up,
What you have now's a holiday!
Let's be honest - your boss was a ****,
And you won't miss him anyway.

You've got writers block and poetry,
Flows no longer from your pencil?
Me too! That's why I forced these rhymes,
And I show lack of potential!

I like how the universe works;
How each day you wake up
To witness the sun rise
To witness the sun set
But somehow even if you watch it every day
It’ll amaze you in many different ways

I like how the universe works;
How the trees stand still
For hundreds and hundreds of years
Enduring all the pain nature can give
To take in the air you don’t need
In exchange for the air that you breathe

I like how the universe works;
How out of the billions of people
Living on earth
I meet you, to see you,
Continuously rising and falling
Yet you still shine the brightest
And I’m still amazed at everything you are

I like how the universe works;
How out of the billions of people
Living on earth
I meet you, to take in all my hurt
And all my tears
As you give me the purpose of my life
To love you with all my heart, soul, and body

I like how the universe works;
How you can be my sun
How you can be my tree
How you can be
The only one for me
How I can be the most imperfect human
But still,
You choose to love me

when you left me
I felt lost
I drove myself crazy
I called you 27 times consecutively knowing that each time you were going to send me to voicemail
I had to move on by myself
with no closure at all
It hurt every single day
there was not a night that would go by that I wouldn't think about you and just cry
for a very long time, it was that way
then I finally found a light
I wasn't sad anymore
at least not over you

but now you're back
pleading
saying sorry
"sorry I made you fall with no intention of catching you.."
but what am I suppose to say?
It's okay?
Because it is not okay
you made me sad for a very long time

I did think about you from time to time
but those days are over
now it's your turn

It's your turn to cry

She writeth mellifluous calligraphy
When she speaketh in her mother tongue;
She's ineffable, irresistible,
Tis, she's mine chosen one.
                                                Her kaleidoscopic ambience
pirouettes around mine being, heaven's own, the most beautiful soul; O' how I'm blessed with this queen.

Supine I layeth, looking aloft mine glimpse, a brightness flashed, in Asian sash, turtle shell's around her hips.

At that moment, I hadst an epiphany, I was finally living, to God I owed thanksgiving, for this archangel he hadst sent to me.



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