i.

Within the oven
Wherein the thirst is never quenched;
Mine sweet Jane cooleth me
With her word's, and love to me meant.

ii.

I liveth for her the morrow
I liveth for her sunder the eve';
Her everything to me meaneth all thing's
She's the lifeblood, whom I need.

iii.

Mine aching body needeth her
Mine hand's, they needeth her feel;
A birthgiver to mine happiness
Mine gosh, her amour's so real.

iv.

****, beautiful, masterpiece of God
For her mine soul, belongeth to, and throb's;
I'll seeith her soon, in the Asian fogged dawn
I'll seeith mine muse, the pure one of God.

v.

She's all I desire, when the flood's do rain
She's the glory in sadness, in mine pain;
She's whom I liveth, when mine blood leak's
I canst sayeth none more, I'll let mine love speak.




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication/mine Reyna/soul

I broke open a fortune cookie
out jumped a woman
wearing a red dress
She sang like Elvis
dancing on the table
in red six inch heels
I looked to the waiter
for help
and I could see love
written all over his face
I made my excuses
paid the bill
and left.

i

Get some rest mine empress
Thine mind is full of doubt's;
Afraid I shalt walketh away
Afraid of me walking out;

ii

Get some sleep
Mine queen;
Tommorrow thou shalt awaken
And again to talk to me.

iii

Get some shut-eye mine seraph
None shalt separate us;
None jealous one's
None scarab's.

iv

Get some peace mine rose
Didst thou not knoweth;
I'll be at thy side, we'll gloweth
Triumphantly as tower's.

v

Get some siesta mine lass
For the morn shalt cometh fast;
I'll be there at thy side, staring through thine glass
Glass eye's, that I shalt never walketh from.....

Get some peace mine Reyna......



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

I'm not saying I'm contented with the past
I think the future is a gamble and means
Forgetting all the chapters, the good and the bad
The easy and the hard, the clear and the blurred
And what's more, the friends and family, my blood
I'm not saying I should not move on and It's all I want to do
But where is "on"? Is it north, South, East or west?
Is "on" up so that I can construct wings or is it down
So that I can gather the tools of strength and start digging?
I'm not implying I enjoy the nightmares of knowing it was all *******
But I just cannot plough through this in an instant like a mad ox
I don't even mean you know nothing about the pain of a loss
Your loss was your way and,I mine,knowing don't me you understand
I'm not saying you haven't been there and seen it all
All I ask for is more time to ounce by ounce lift this burden off my chest
Wash my mind in forgiveness and cleanse my soul
I'm not asking you to get so upset and leave
But It's your choice,you can stay and watch me grieve
I appreciate you being kind and beautiful
That's why lying that I'm over it will make me a fool
I'm not saying I want to embrace the memories like I'm cursed
All I'm trying to say is some stories are best sellers
******, happy or sad because at some point all life is hard

~

In ode to all who succumb
through wayward passages
lined of scribble notes
dripping ink’s savagery,
staining cursive patterns
in Sylvia-like depressions

Jarred bells ring
down lost tunnels
around each dark corner…clang
from steeples we chase
and beds we lie
draped in sadness
and shapes of
poetic happenstance

Tear drop vinaigrette
spiced of leftover lifetimes
drizzled on leafy desperation
bids a tired farewell
before time collects
*the deserved rewards

I pet a bee that
Barked, led him
To purple water.
Iridescent lake;
It shimmered so
I swam and met
My lover. A king,
Son of the Sun,
Seer of future;
Held me close as
I watched indigo,
Orange, red and
Blue swirl around
This lake's face.

Forget what you know.
Forget about the saying:
"If they love you , they won't only share the good times with you"
Love , true love is not a feeling or an emotion its a power , the only supernatural thing that we have physical proof of.
If they love you and if you want to know that they truly love you
Then they will fight with you,
They will get annoyed with you
They look at you speaking to others and smile and say she's mine
They won't just stand by you in tough times , they'll break the tough times ,
They won't enjoy the good times they'll make the good times
When the love is true they'll flirt with other girls but infront of you,
When the love is true they'll speak to other girls about you,
When the love is true they won't break down your enemies they'll make them your friends.
When the love is true they won't stand and wipe your tears away they'll stand and cry next to you.
When the love is true and someone hurts you they'll end up in jail only for you.
When the love is true there is no addiction or drug or pleasure to strong to give up for you.
There is no true defenition of love or true love but when the love is true they'll tell you everyday I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you Monotonously telling you I'm going to marry you.

Say you're on your way. The wait is unbearable.
Say you'll cherish me only. Say your heart is unshareble.
"Say you'll be mine.
Say we'll be fine.
Say we'll be together.
Selfish of me to ask since I'd be the reason we don't last forever."
I hear your voice in songs. A voice that's never blessed my ears.
I feel your hugs, mild hugs I've dreamed about throughout my coldest years.
Where are you? Please Send the location.
****** the keys to my heart, free my soul & and rescue me from this emotionless probation.
Have you been hurt like me? Is it weird The most beautiful things on you are your scars?
Could I grasp you admittedly close to my being as we lay on our band-aids & gaze up at stars?
In Dreams you're all I see. Fantasies of a we. Prematurely feeling something that has to be.
I've paid the price for happiness, I've handled the heaviest of baggages & I wait patiently for the day God ships & delivers you to me.

Faded ink.
Deep, majestic black to a shy blue
hints at a thrill that no longer thrives
but serves an imprinted reminder
of a time that breathed happiness.

Around and around,
days into nights,
we grew into each other
without notice.
Weighted contours
made beautifully complex shapes,
we’d  twist and curve
harmonic and sound,
constantly moving
in these flawless, repeating circles.

When it ends—
[and it will,
because the monotony
of the same motion
will scare you]
you’ll be left wondering how
you could sit there and become
so immersed in something
that was so perfect and simple.
Perfectly simple.
You stop and step back.
You breathe and regret.
You take it in and admire.
The saddest part
is to realize that this piece is left
unfinished.
No closure, no color,
just the monotone outlines
of some gorgeous, accidental idea.

Isn’t physically quick or agile.

Disappears in libraries.

Has been known to dissolve into the physical pages of books.

Is good at tucking herself into the stacks and retreating to reading nooks.

Blends in at coffee shops where her voice can be drowned out by the grinding and the steaming.

Can become indistinguishable in the dark of theatres, in the quiet shuffle of art galleries, the finger-snapping of poetry readings, the hum and jostle of the Tube.

Is indistinct. Adept at hiding in plain sight.