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 Nov 2015
Noah Stowe
Question everything around you
Until you no longer have questions.
When I was but a lad, pliable, supple and bold,

daddy built an owl box of timber,

buckled and old.

Gnarled by nasty weather,

displaying her shady spree,

Protecting life from the noonday sun, my African tree.

Facing the rising sun in site my bedroom window,

daddy's owl box was latched.

A perfect observation hide. With the excitement of youth,

I was impatiently waiting for the owl chicks to hatch.

I marveled at their speedy growth, and wonder,

Could it be all the rodents, from a barn out yonder?

A shock of soft snowy plumage, handsome and tall,

a summer month away from fall.

In early spring with late frost abound,

I awake to a familiar sound.

With night ear focused on the outside wall,

out of dark and sight the repeated call:
 Nov 2015
brandon nagley
I'm the blood
Inside her vein's;
In love, O' love,
Madly insane.
Pouring down
Like sensual rain;
I'm the blood
Inside her vein's.
I feedeth her heart
Into her soul,
I enter in silver
She cometh out
Gold; I'm the blood
Inside her vein's,
Inside her mouth
I swirl again, tis
I'm the love inside
Her head, I enter
On in, angelic
sentient; tis
I'm the spirit
Inside her chalice,
She drinketh me, over-
Taketh me by her
Asian palace: im the
Blood inside her vein's,
I'm vital, I'm living,
Once again; I'm the king
Inside her dream's, inside her chamber, tis do I sleep.
I'm the blood inside her vein's, and O' how sweet doth her plasma taste. Tis I'm the blood inside her vein's........



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedicated
 Nov 2015
brandon nagley
To all hello poetry poets who follow and support me... Just wanna thank you from the bottom of mine heart for all your support love, friendship, knowledge, wisdom and beautiful works of heaven you all write.. Thank you for liking mine work and showing me there is still love left on a planet that's being overtaken with hatred and evil.... As tis I will support you and try to find the lost poets who are NOT noticed those quiet and hidden poets and overlooked poets. The ones in the back of the room. The new age classics... As we all should find the unspoken poets work and push it.... As there are so many unknown lost beauties of work.... Thank you all for support and blessings and giving me new friendship and light to shine upon me. May God bless you on this day or night to you. And daily for you. And especially to mine queen Earl Jane... I love you forever mine soul. Mine soulmate .. Mine Reyna. Mine love. Mine amour'... Mine all!!!!! As tis Jane today and everyday I'm blessed to have you and greatful to have a godsend from heaven to earth to protect and love me. God bless our love queen as Lennon put it... I love you all and thank all of you...

God bless

Brandon cory Nagley
Lonesome poet's poetry creator...
 Nov 2015
brandon nagley
i.

Atop her head, she weareth a crown
Tis, once was dead;
Though now alive, I've been found.

ii.

I was buried,
Verily; in the
Ground;

iii.

I mourned
For age's;
In a coffin compound.

iv.

Though by the grace,
The mercy of mine
God;

v.

I was restored
Inside mine
Amour; once
a cadaver, now
I've entered a
Door, a door that
Bringeth life, love
and reflection. In
An upward flight;
I've been saved, by
Queen Jane's invitation.


©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
 Nov 2015
Dhaye Margaux
~~¤~~

It is easy to love a poet
Give her that smile that she'll never forget
Just send her  a word or a line
And everyday will be just so fine

Show her your photo, good or not
Anyway she loves you a lot
Everything from you is for keeps
Like sweetness of your kiss on her tender lips

Touch her softly, that she never expects
Kiss her forehead as sign of respect
She feels wonderful when you are around
A simple hello is a lovely sound

Give her a time to tell her stories
Make her feel that she's really missed
She just deserves a hug and a smile
After being away for a while

Let her lean on your chest and shoulders
Let her feel that you are all hers
When she waits for a shooting star to fall
You know what's her wish afterall

She always sits on your lap,  doesn't she?
Like a baby girl she ought to be
When she press your nose, fell proud
She only wants you to laugh so loud

Hold her waist and carry her
Swing your bodies into the air
When she tickles and teases you endlessly
She do it with love for your eyes to see

Oh,  it is easy to love a poet
A kind of love you will never forget
Her heart is pure,  tender and mild
Yet she loves so much, carefree and wild...

~~¤~~
It is easy to love when you are ready to love.
 Nov 2015
brandon nagley
Verily, she's heaven
Verily, she's earth;
Verily I was born
In her aloe and myrrh.

Verily, she's mine
Verily, I'm her's;
Verily, O' verily
She's mine amour'.

Verily, she's love
Verily, she's life
Verily, I telleth thee
She's mine Jane
Mine wife;


©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated - Filipino rose
 Nov 2015
brandon nagley
i.

Once was lost
Now am found;
She unearthed me
She birthed me
In amour's
Shroud;

ii.

Once was blind
Though now I seeith;
She made me her own
Into her abode,
Mine soul she freeith.

iii.

Once was deaf
With nothing left;
Though I prayed
And beseeched,
For the Lord's
Dear best.

iv.

Once was dead
Though now
Alive; tis I
Foundeth heaven,
In queen Jane's eye's.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication-filipino rose
This is a poem how God answered mine prayer for mine soulmate.... As he sent me angelic Jane (:::
 Nov 2015
brandon nagley
i.

Reyna, we art, and thus alway's wilt be, king and queen wreathed by unrevealed novel thing's; A reality, no fantasy nor dream, as ourn amour' steam's and ring's like bell's in chapel holiness.

ii.

Ourn d.n.a is a map of all creational construction, showing God's hand's whom hast created ourn function's; We yearneth for another from afar, mine Jane, mine pet, we shalt soon together maketh ourn children on star's.

iii.

O' from the empyrean, O' from the empyrean we shalt glanceth Mars. Ourn heart's large, as ourn eye's pierce through another; wayfarer's we shalt be in the angelic city. With golden street's below ourn feet, none demonic fearing's nor pity, vesture of the trace of ourn creator's trinity. Viol and harp symphonies, high class and richy shalt we dance, None currency needed. The poor here shalt be standing first, as the greed-seeker's last, no tear drained pain's nor stab's, no mishap's. Just rainbow's that reflecteth garment's and robe's from the heavenly host's that carry sword's to keepeth the fallen fiend's out.

iv.

The entryway covered by rock's that sparkled back on earth in the opulent man's view, though here this scene is for me and thou; for the homeless to, as tis we shalt be renewed in ourn kiss of eternal life, all day here, no night. For God here is the light that the earthling's hath forgotten.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane Nagley dedication-Filipino rose
Viol in biblical days was like a violin...
empyrean means heavens... Or has to do with sky...
vesture archaic form means like clothed in or arrayed..
opulent man- also meaning wealthy man.... Opulent means wealthy rich so on.. (:;;
 Nov 2015
Maha Salman
The skies ring azure with ancient melodies
seaming the world together with soft threads,
puffing smoke like clouds floating above a broken world ,
with falling tears dying in  the gentle laughter of the wind.
and slowly throughout such beautiful chaos
humans try to comprehend the incomprehensible.
What even is this...
 Nov 2015
Rainer Maria Rilke
Come thou, thou last one, whom I recognize,
unbearable pain throughout this body's fabric:
as I in my spirit burned, see, I now burn in thee:
the wood that long resisted the advancing flames
which thou kept flaring, I now am nourishing
and burn in thee.

My gentle and mild being through thy ruthless fury
has turned into a raging hell that is not from here.
Quite pure, quite free of future planning, I mounted
the tangled funeral pyre built for my suffering,
so sure of nothing more to buy for future needs,
while in my heart the stored reserves kept silent.

Is it still I, who there past all recognition burn?
Memories I do not seize and bring inside.
O life! O living! O to be outside!
And I in flames. And no one here who knows me.
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