"What is your perception of art? " he asked

I replied " when my name will be carved on your lips in a soft cursive "

I am emphatically flawed.
I will make mistakes,
I'll be distant and difficult.
Things will rarely if ever,
be "perfect."
But I will always come back to you,
with a sad smile and soft voice,
and the most heartfelt of apologies.

On occasion I will be incredulous.
I'll question your actions,
and your motive.
I'll **** near border on paranoia.
But I'm easily proven wrong,
it won't take much to re-build my confidence.

I may very likely disappear,
from time to time.
I'm an enigmatic rambler,
and a vagabond.
I won't often buy you roses.
But I will show up after days in the wilderness,
with a heart full of love,
and a whiskey bottle stuffed full of wildflowers...

i.

In the archaic agora
Stayed apothecaries, money changers, and tradesmen;
Governor's with grape stained sin's
Himation throw over's, as for women a chiton, white garb glint.

ii.

Betwixt the sea human being multitude
Were the many different Greek's, and the Grecian Jew's;
This locale was vibrant, a theatre nearby where the soldier's couldst escape from the war, whilst fighting made market new's.

iii.

A poet I was, listening to homer, and the philosopher Plato
Whilst Aristotle read marvelous novel's, whilst Aristophanes gaveth me a laugh; and Hippocrates showed me doctor's notes for the generation's to cometh and pass, Sophocles to giveth fun task.

iv.

Off in the distance was a lass not from around mine Greek land
Her skin a little darker, her eye's **** wick's, ablazed, her sheath Asiatic tan; she hadst no brand, she was not formed by any human creator, her tropical hair, swayed to the Mediterranean.

v.

She was struggling, fighting for her life from the cyclops Polyphemus, I ran quickly to her rescue, pulling out mine xiphos;
She passed out from the trauma, her pupils rolled back timeful
As I woketh her with mine poetic Lip's, giving her life, greek kiss.





©Brandon nagley
©Earl jane nagley dedication
©Lonesome poets poetry

The modern medicine man is subtle.
No longer,
is he held in high regard by his peers.
More often than not,
he is not even acknowledged for his power.
In a world that demands instant gratification,
it is difficult to appreciate a man who has what you need,
not what you want.
If you run across him,
notice he holds all those little vices,
the ones that open a man,
not numb him.
Admire his ease,
and the pivotal wisdom he's bound to drop.
Hold in high esteem his timing in arrival;
for it is not by accident you've run upon him.
Thank your local medicine man if you should find him,
for it is a subtle duty,
and one that goes too oft,
unappreciated.

i.

Inamorato's and inamorata's
Hath lost the meaning of amour';
Being two separate entities.

ii.

Me and mine lass
Shalt forever last;
For we art one spirit, one soul, one destiny.


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

L: Hello B.
B: Hey--

L: I breathe dragon parts and leprechaun skin.

B: You're broken flames blinking gold-dust away with the sun.

L: We were dancing ancient tongues
for icy dreams and lead-lined seams.

B: Fireworks stole away our seals as we cried at frayed stitches, bleaching eyes.

L: I knew the clouds you kept, but I'm singing rosey buttons and westward hedges.

B: I'll see you--in the soft winds- murmuring to bushes and stifling sound-light.

L: Cataracts bind us for more will come.