rainless morning, awoken by comforting delicate taps on my window
velvet curtains lifted and fragile opalescent feathers revealed
the hummingbird sings songs for you
and my heart flutters in time with the tune

life itself a calculation

if you invest the right amount of time

with right efforts

results will be fruitful like a tree

full of shinning apples

The baby faced moon
Chubby cheeks smiling bright
Pale white reflective skin
Is mine

That small vapor trail
Of clouds with their
Own tails to tell
and a dragon’s tongue
Is mine

The grey white and black
Frantic feral cat
Running back
To the railway track
With ruby eyes
Glowing in the headlights
Is mine

Every natural sensation
The feel of wet ground
The rainbow with its’ own
After image
Is mine

Everything I perceive
Is mine
To place paper
With pointed pen
To type it out
And edit again
And again, and again
Till in the end
It is poetry perfected
All mine

by your voice
I dream of your green eyed wisdom
floating metaphorically  
upon clouds and wind
your songs must be
there in blood spilled ink
I get high recalling
thy blushing cheeks
full lips quoting Whitman to me
softer on a hill than Autumn's calm
I fly high when
wings and turtle doves
by your voice breathe alive:


wildlife into life
you create
imagination so surreal,
your essence calms the storms,
growling rains,
beats back thunders and winds
in quickening heartbeats:
with green eyes
glance I remember there
on a page to
be treasured by I,
you and your dancing
so beautiful,
In trance I grasp

love. dance to your
songs

Love stays solid
asks nothing
except respect
for loves personal space

Whatever you do don't encourage him
Don't give him the comedic room to breathe
He'll take that last breath to go for a laugh
The slightest bit of room is all that he needs

Try your very best not to look at him
As his mind churns for something to say
Turning bad jokes into art, just doing his part
To bring that daily passion into the play

Don't smile, don't giggle, stand perfectly still
What ever you do don't even blink
Don't give him the out to open his mouth
Don't give him enough time to think

Whatever you do don't encourage him
Don't thaw that crazy from out of deep freeze
Cause you never know which way it will go
And it only helps to feed his off the wall needs

I have been daydreaming my dream.
Can I tell you what that is?
Standing on a stage in front of a
supremely silent crowd as I
speak of my heart. My life.
My God.

JESUS CHRIST.

This after performing the most
righteous (hippie slang for awesome) music. Music I have
written and SO long to share with
the world.

I have been preparing for this
all my life. Even though I was raised
an atheist. I've had this dream to
stand up for something of the
greatest impact, importance
and beauty.

I had this dream of
Jesus Christ returning you see.
When I was 10. I know His Spirit
has never left. But He will
return ******

I DREAMT THIS BEFORE I EVER
READ THE BIBLE OR WENT TO
CHURCH. He came to me in this
dream. On a white horse and the
Host behind Him. From the clouds
they rode in pure GLORY!

I could not see His face. But I sure
heard His voice. Which said;

"Cathy. I'm coming back.
You and your family
have to be READY".

Maybe you are an unbeliever.
But can you see how I would feel
as I do? Also go to the site search engine. Type in "Salvation Story
by SoulSurvivor". If this testimony
doesn't move you nothing will.
I want to share with the world
how Jesus Christ literally saved
my life. What better way than
with music? The universal
language.

I have a dream. Of megalithic
angels standing around the stadium.
People in AWE! Not of me.
Of God.

My message?

No more war.
LOVE.
REPENTANCE.
LEVELING OF PRIDE.

FORGIVENESS.

I believe that God would not
have put this in my heart if He
didn't want to, at least, allow me
to TRY!

I have a dream. That i was broken.
Then completely healed.
In my BODY, MIND and SPIRIT.

For 20 years God has been
leveling my pride. It needed it.
For 10 I've been writing
poetry, music and songs.

Now it's time.

My music will be released on
YouTube and Soundcloud
next month. The links announced.

I figure if you're gonna dream...

DREAM BiG.

Notice the little i in the middle of
BiG? That's ME. If I get a big head
the weight of it will make me fall.

Will you support me? PRAY.
Send good thoughts skyward.
I'll need every last one.

Thank you!

♥ Catherine

and the planet bleeds from
a volcano of angst
and anger

refugees from the
black heart of fire
errupt on the scene
sending the ashes
skyward
in gouts
engulfing
Paris
like
Pompeii

wars errupt on the Main Streets
of Middle America
carrion for coyote
drug dealers
the PTSD
persuasion
has newly
vacant veteran's
tenement
bodies piling
like cordwood...

I hear the newscaster
announcing;

COULD WHAT HAPPENED IN
PARIS HAPPEN HERE?
WE ARE NOT PREPARED!
@ TEN!

duh.

in a country that
has forgotten its soul
we say goodbye to God

while Ol' Faithful waits...


soulsurvivor
11/19/2015

i.

Elated, I'm afar from the aqua sphere beneath mine toe's,
I've been taken up by flight, an angel in the night;
A woman, a queen, a mystical paranormal beam,
God heard mine weeping, and with her he sent,
She dried mine Tear's clean.

ii.

I sniveled for eon's, with none hopeful lover's future
Mine joint's were weak, from the lack of nutritional feature's;
At mine lowest point, after imploring mine lord for help,
He sent me mine other half, Earl Jane Nagley, an Asiatic path,
Mine beloved, mine darling, mine seraphic helper.

iii.

I found wholeness, the other purpose to mine sustenance,
She's not for sale, she's not a slave, she's a cherub; not some anecdotal tale. She's not one to taketh man's bribery, she's not a peasant sold and payed for rent: tis she's heavensent- the answer to mine prayer's, she's delicate, she's an empress doth thou seeith, I was birthed for her, as she for me, both made for another, to cherish each other, on cloud nine we shalt be seen.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedication-Filipino rose

drums pound loudly
as the last real empire
builds up for one more great war
the final battle
to forever lock oil to the U.S. dollar
to end all hope for cultural variation
to show Russia and China why
we are the world police –
media blackout on Chinese warships
and Russian bombers
as we sit glued to a debate
with no real weight
we sit at the precipice
of history repeating
just call Obama, F.D.R.
but without the polio
to stop him becoming king –
when the first ship sinks
somewhere out in the South Pacific
will we have bombed our own
like the Tonkin Gulf
in order to gain public support
for one more crack at the draft
will it be those rascally men from the red menace
dropping our own stolen technology
on the heads of our sons
and combat ready daughters
will Russian destroyers invade the coastline
like we did in Normandy
to stop school shootings
and teach us all how to make borscht
do we actually get to utilize 50 year old
nuclear missiles
in the name of peace
and better trade rates –
the 40 years of my life
we have played in the Middle-East
hit and run, bomb and apologize
innocent civilians as collateral damage
robotic drones keeping tally…
will I get to see
in my lifetime
the horrors that are only properly expressed
on grainy History Channel video –