IF YOU READ NONE OF MY OTHER
POETRY, PLEASE READ THIS!

Knock, knock - Who's there?
Is anybody home?
The lights are on, but you are gone...
It's silent as a tomb.

Knock, knock - Who's there?
Listen to the sound!
He waits for you! You know it's true!
But you are not around...

When Jesus is a'knocking
At your heart's fast door,
You appear to close your ears...
Do YOU know WHAT'S IN STORE?

We *DON'T all go to heaven...
YES! There is a hell!
You will find that you are blind
Believin' a tall tale!

I am a "good" person!
I'm helpful, and I give!
It's okay to be this way!
I live and let live....

NO!* Jesus lead the sinless life
And gave it up for *YOU!
Let Him in, He'll take your sin,
For He is kind and true!

There are NONE "good" people!
Folks! We're near the END!
Satan promotes his lies and gloats,
You'd best believe it, friend.

We ALL sin, and like as not
God CAN hold a grudge!
I don't know why we try and try
To say He doesn't judge!

This means YOU TOO, Believers!
You'd best have a care...
Be ye pure, or you'll endure
The same fate sinners share!

This is simply Bible.
God, the temple left!
Ezekiel. You know full well.
It was then BEREFT!!!

CHRISTIANS! Are you holy?
Have you sinned enuf?
He is God - He's not a CLOD!
He don't put up with GUFF!!!

Do I sound like I'm frightened?
You BET! I am afraid.
There is grace, but it's a race!
I may NOT make the grade!

We CAN blame the devil,
And that is just a shame...
He tempts us all, but please recall
REBUKE! In JESUS NAME!


Adam blamed the WOMAN.
Eve... she blamed the SNAKE...
Holy SMOKES! C'mon folks!
HOW MUCH CAN GOD TAKE???!!!


Knock, knock - Who's there?
Christ died that we may LIVE!
Open up and drink the cup!
Then He can FORGIVE!

If you don't, please hear me.
You'll believe a LIE.
You may well end up in hell...

So kiss your soul GOODBYE.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 6/12/2014


This poem is a spoken-word vidio
on YouTube...
https://youtu.be/PbD84Tuydxw

My persona would be red clay along the river shoreline .  My hair , the green grass infused field . My body is akin to tall Pines , Mountain Chestnut , awe inspiring Oak and Pecan Trees..
The salt of my physical being , the child of histories shed tears anchored within the very blood that flows through my circuitry .
Her waters are my soul revealed , Appalachia begat a grateful son of Georgia that seeks the shoreline .. Called across the surface of the sea to the waiting arms of my Creator .. Sky blue eyes on watch forever* .

When you left me, you took my life away
and made me a laughing stock on display.
When I left you, I started breathing again;
healed of every wound, relieved of all the pain!

If you are in love
And you must go out the door
I have some advice
That I have learned
From yore

Break your lady gently
for though she is made
from the strongest of glass
She can still shatter
Into shards
Upon the silken grass
And it will take ages
To find those thin, tiny slivers
To glue them together,
An almost impossible task
As your hands
Shake and shiver

Break your lady gently
But slice not too deep
For she is still yours,
Even if not to keep
She might rise up
Again
In your heart
And make it bloom
She will still
Calm your soul
And your every wound
And so, fair Lord,
Only if you
absolutely must
Break her down gently
But alas---
keep her trust

She’s lovely and petite,
Long flowing blonde hair,
The target of constant
Unwanted attention,
The **** of many crude jokes.
Though you can’t deny it
There is a kernel of truth
To every stereotype.
Shallow. Yes she is shallow.
Shallow as the flood waters
Three inches deep, powerful
Enough to sweep your car
Into a watery grave.
Superficial. Yes she is superficial.
Superficial as the thin layer
Of paint on a Renoir or Monet
Colors translucent and divine
Deep and lustrous
Transporting the imagination
To a world of romance and joy.
Clueless. Yes she is clueless.
Clueless as Sherlock Holmes
As he solves a mystery as dark
And complex as any labyrinth
With nary a clue, save for a trail
Of breadcrumbs and a scent of
Gardenia.
Airhead. Yes she is an airhead.
An airhead like the thinnest of air
Atop the mighty Himalayas where
Holy men choose to transcend the
Mundane and commune with
Spirits subtle and ethereal and ultimately
Unknowable.
The world sees her beauty and perhaps
Only her beauty, but they are blinded
By their shallowness, superficiality,
Cluelessness and a brain wallowing
In the clouds of misty ignorance.
Therein lies the joke.

i.

What occupies thy soul and being? Worldly knowledge, book's, gold, material thing's; Diamond's, jewelry, ring's, automobile's, weapon's that ****, Poison's that we put into ourn spiritual bodies.

ii.

Where is thy heart? Into plastic, stuck in a casket, pulling apart?
Art thou striving to a life of just surviving, or actually living life;
What cometh first? God, family, friend's, or earthly trend's?

iii.

Whom doth thou serve? The thought's of the devil? The grave and the shovel? Art thou on another level? Or dying to get rich; Living as a slave? Choked in a cave? Giving all, as all the lord gaveth thee.

iv.

What doth thou fearest? Mankind? With bomb's that shineth, and gun's to smoketh? Or thy creator whom hold's the key to life and death, art thou like all the rest laying thy treasure on men's step's? Or in Jehovah's kingdom? The great architect's ringing the doorbell at thy being; ding ****...... Ding ****... Ring. Ring!!!!

Wilt thou let him in?
Or serve the world and men?




©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

First I go here
And then I go there

Let me explain

First I go to
The shower

Then the kitchen
To eat breakfast

Then I go to the car
Then to the job site

Then to the gym

First I go here
And then I go there

And isn't it strange
First I go here
And then I go there

The water goes here
And then it goes there
Over the rock
And through the rock

The animals drink from
The water

The water goes here
And then it goes there

It nourishes all things
Without striving

Hope India will save itself
But it may take time
For people to realise
That this is too bad
Even ****** did not last
History will repeat itself
And a new India will be borne
But it will take its own time
The question is ..
What is this time?
How long?
How fast?
How many more to die?
What will be the new form?
Keep writing..
Be active..
Be the change...
and
Keep smiling...
Even when blood flows all around you...
Keep smiling...
For
this will not last for ever..