I became your favorite obsession
I wondered if my last hour had come.
I am not alive until you called,
In an hour or two my cell phone becomes as hot as I am.
Take me, break me, I can’t be obedient,

I want to feel whole again…
without looking over my shoulder.
Oh my wounded and troubled heart
My soul is in deep anguish,
Without this forceful conquest

Within my eyes, jealousy wedge deep
Because of my self-critical thoughts,
My early rejections, my feeling, thoughts and action:

Our grandmother’s words came to be fulfilled
“An old fashion botheration,
   My indulgence from my past,
This led to an old fashion romance,
That wasn’t resolved then or now.

Take this kiss from my lip
And in return take off your glasses
and let me see your weary eyes
You are not wrong, my jealousy is a disease

If life had be kinder to us,
I would have been yours,
And you would have been mine.
I would have been the slave to you,

I stood by the window, and stare down at couples walking by
holding hands and I thought about them and I think about us:
Making further plans and I waved my hand to them
and smile because love is a lie.

heart of darkness encounter of lies
I have paid my dues, I settled my tithes.

How can I tell my heart to stop loving him?
I became his favorite obsession, now he’s mine
Take me, break me, I can’t be obedient,
I want to feel whole again, my friend

My wounded and troubled heart,
My soul is in deep anguish,
without this forceful conquest
So why do I weep in my sleep?

My God of refuge, what was the hidden truth?
I played with fire, and now I am burnt.

Verily, verily, I wilt thole
the strenuous measure
Without thee in mine
Reach. Thine countenance do I seek in
Sainthood luster;                                      O' how I needeth thee mine
                                         beloved of cherubic power,
                 Tis the moonlight hour's I dieth to layeth mine brow
Upon thine own.

Sweat cover's me, I needeth mine
Abode, for thou art mine home;
In which I hath sought after
Since afore the age of Noah.
                                                         O' how this locution screameth out loud to the crowd's of emptied lonesome-hearted mad
Men. Mine darling, àgapi mou, best friend. Tis not the end-
Only the beginning.                        I glance keenly dearest jane-

Into meadow's wherein the pool's of life art made for one man
And his wife, as godly intended;

                                                      ­   Foregone art the soul's that shalt
                                        wait ourn arrival, they've been waiting endlessly to enter us inside.
O' Queen Jane, Filipino treasure of mine;

O' how we shalt dine and feast amongst the golden pathway's and see-through streets, bare **** feet to lead ourn spiritual direction, ourn agápi reflecting Yahweh's glow in three-
Dimensional complexion.

One day to be as babes, Unchained, not slaves to menfolk's rule-

A place wherein one enters by the amount of love they've given
And hath shown, a kingdom
                                                   Wherein we shalt be renewed.
    



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou) dedicated

her lies taste like sweet nectarine,
those discreet kisses on my neckerchief,
make up on the pillows,
tears inside the handkerchief,
folded over and over to compress our fears into make believe,
in origami,
the patterns left,
embedded in my chest,
alieness to something,
but so close to where you used to be.

Your portrait carved on my soul
—burning masterpiece lasting forever—
I feel your eyes on my chest
you wrote your name on my lips
for forever
                                              
I wake up with swollen eyes
—make up won't ever cover up
the pain I carry—
I feel
black holes swallowing me whole
I get lost in old books no one reads any more
I am a ghost
wandering in a nebulous world
I fight daily for a slice of air
I'd stab the sky and drink its blood
if it would bring me a crumb of life

regrets
they haunt me like poltergeists
can't sleep at night
their sound is so loud
everything I've done
comes before my eyes
I can't breathe
I want to make it stop

I've kissed devils believing I was buying love
I've ran miles and miles trying to reach the horizon
I've cried tears
and tears
and tears
trying to forget what wasn't mine to love
I've haunted black birds disguised in the angels of the night
I've kept the dirt in my pockets believing it was gold
I've walked to the light
but it was just a fire burning me whole
I've turned into devil then into angel
and demon and angel and so on
I've let myself fall believing I would land on clouds—
the ground, it broke my bones—
I've drank all the glasses of poison in the world
I've eaten sorrow as dessert

I've lost my soul
my brain is shattered
my lips bleeding
my arms longing

and still

nothing is as bad as the fact
that I've never shown you
my true heart
and how much
I
love
you

I stood in the dew kissed grass
Barefoot at midnight
Lilac, carried by the breeze
Filled my mind with you
The darkened sky looked down in shame
The whippoorwill song,
Echoes my sins
Repeated, through out the night
The question the owl asks,
Long since past "who"
It asks where my scarlet letter is
Even as I wear it on my face
The crickets laugh aloud
And the frogs croak at my disgrace
But I dare not hang my head
Nor will I feel shame
For louder than any night can call
My heartbeat speaks your name

He isn't the moon,
But its sultry glow

He isn't the sun,
But its shine

He isn't the clock,
But its time

He isn't the hands,
But the holding

He isn't the poem,
But its rhyme

He isn't love,
But my heart

We were the music, and no one heard it but us.

The drums were prancing in my chest, thumping in rapid fervour.
The violins carried the world on its shoulders,
The guitars brought him into the sky,
And the piano lifted me up to join him.

There was music in our hearts and music in ours bodies,
Spreading like a wave onto the shore,
His lips brushed against my skin, tasting like salt
I matched his beat with mine.

There was music in our hearts and music in our bodies,
Dancing around a hole of blue in a crisp nightingale's cry.
We sang with our crashing waves,
Yet, in the moment we embraced,

there was no music reaching our ears.

We were the music, and no one heard it but us.

I drown,
In the depths of your eyes
I should feel shame
But to say it is a lie
I'm lost in your touch,
The smell of your skin
With you,
Hell is worth our sin
To taste your lips,
Breathe your breath
I would die
A thousand deaths
I will stand at Hells gates
And smile passing through
Just to know
I'll burn with you

Oh my love, how I miss your morning smile,
That once so pleasured my tedious long day.
Each word spoken by you a pleasant style,
Of twittering grace and luminous sway.
In all the words we spoke to the other,
None pleased such as words spoken for our love.
Each word so gentle, one after another,
Which caressed me as soft as silken glove.
But these are just shaking old memories,
Of visions so easily pushed aside.
Images that seek warm affinity,
Of other words which denied our divide.

These are my steady pictures of your eyes
Which held me focused on you as my prize.