Poetry is a
     well-oiled function,
      processing sentiments
                for posterity

*Poetry is an extension
     of our core elements,
           royally regurgitated

Gone

The best part about poetry
Is not even having to write ourn own poem's
But just relaxing back.
And reading all the other amazing poet's on HP....
Lovely indeed....
And so
Inspiring.


©Lonesome poets poetry
©Brandon nagley

Three
people  in
this  void, all
will  be  annoyed,
one  is  in  the  dark,
two  hold  secrets  that
are  cold,  three  will  be  in
pieces,  one  wears  a
blind fold, two have
been cheating,
all    parties
have been
sold.

Man today just ain't my day
The skies are grey as my nikes is
I feel so much pressure
But nothing like Mike did
I just don't know what to do
To be free like birds of the sea
Tuna or a blue bird
I just want to be free
Free from all reality
Pressure like when the Levis broke
Head North for the winter time
For its always cold here to me

Spurious microbes in green tank's maketh blunder's by the inch, The mut eateth their own secretion, whilst frustration of the crowd groweth hungry for martial law take-down. Strayed away by liver decay, consevator to their likeness awaits them, yet they just debate him as some unknown source....The war-torn aeroplanes art diverted by their own bucolic, idealistic and yet sadistic ways........ They play political course action.. As Lucifer is their stand in man....


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Normality cursed me upon open eyes,
I enjoyed the lucid madness, as what
Was seen in the maddening times that
Was better to the normality of  boring now.

I used to chase the florescent thoughts
That floated around, giggling at the touch
As it tickled senses in my deepest doors.
She danced with me in imaginary dance.

I was like a bunny jumping, swaying around
Giggling to ones self for invisible feet would
I be standing upon, never realizing I was tripping
Over my own size tens, what a humours trip.

Madness is an inviting friend, alone, but so many
Voices around madness has its purpose, as I have
Thoughts not my own, I laugh, at incoherent  moments
Are they mine, there's, or yours never alone.

Many's parent's told them at birth
Don't waste thy time on rhyme's
Get a job and real life....
Though to many of us....
Poetry is a job
Poetry
Is life......


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

I took a bath and turned the faucet on

That's where all went wrong

And I floated to the sea

I got eaten by a humpback

Who keeps looking at me.

Me and grand ma' ma'
Are rock in
So don't you
Come anywhere knocking
And if you come in
I got my old grand pa pa
Shotgun

My beard makes the kids laugh
And the young one's giggle,
It gives my red Scottish nose
A fun swig and wiggle.