A bucket list,
We all should record.
To give us goals,
To work towards.

Make a list,
From one to twenty.
You can have more,
If you want to have plenty.

You're bucket list,
Will hold your dreams.
That one day,
Won't be a dream.

Setting goals
Is good to do,
To make your dreams
Come true for you.

There's more singular saplings
Reading violet dandies
Instead of make believe
-Manuscripts

Where voids
Live in non-existence.

-Mountains creep slowly,
Towards the sun
While trees trample-
Moons with footprints.

And I--I feel stuck-
Suckling quicksand
From beneath my bones.

-Waiting for midnight
To catch away,

The rain.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
******* are black,
You know that's true.

Big lips and ***** hair,
Living off that ol' welfare.

He loved me once
With exuberance and joy
He loved me once
And saw my flaws as perfection
He loved me once
And helped me to love myself
He loved me once
With all that he is
He loved me once
With an honest soul much like my own
He loved me once
And made me believe in forever
He loved me once
With neither question nor doubt
He loved me once
And in a flash of perception
All I can say is...
He loved me once

Younger now--
Winking-wards-back-
-Never feeding satchels
With broken thumbs.

Slightly sniffing-
Sorrows in--
Decrepit hand-bags,

The silence is short.

And supposing day-beings
Are breaking evenings,
For nights that always come.

We know attics; see-how
Detached I am.
That boldness of single
Salmon-sand.

When a gun is pointed at you,
you are afraid of the gun,
not the one who
points it
at you.
                                                            ­                    *We aren't afraid of people,
                                                         ­                      but to the thoughts that have
                                                                ­                                            come alive
                                                           ­                                                 into            ­                                                                 ­                               words.

Whilst this site is bickering
And whilst it's at unrest;
I shalt sit back happy
Showing amour, being content.




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

broken and bent, the trees shudder as
the cold wind blows angrily,
soft skin and crisp leaves
collide,
as rain pours onto the top of your head,
no faeries or elves in this forest,
just the rain,
and your lost soul

My teeth keep-
          Falling out
                 When I speak

And they choke
On insomniac dreams
As I swallow them--

Finger nails-
Belittled by dearth
Took ephemeral essences

With tears they
Destroyed the meanings-
Of love,

To revel solely
Alone in a void
Crafting broken pieces.