I walked into
the concert
hall
and saw you
on the
stage, a glow
of amber
light filling
up the night- a
sparkling fleck of
gold in
the river
path of
life

There you were,
such home to
me
such a wonted
sense
to me
a quiet type of
thrill that's like the
hatching
of an egg or the
stirring of a bird
making her way
through
Autumn's leaves
to ride with
dawn

There you were
on stage,
immersed in
October's Sandaraca
and I thought
you were,
I think,
you are,
I hope
you are
at home with me and
every sunset's
encore.

I' m rejoicing might and day,
As I walk the pilgrim way,
For the hand of God in all my life I see,
And the reason of my bliss,
Yes , the secret all is this;
That the Comforter abides with me.

He abides ....... He abides.......
Hallelujah, He abides with me!
I'm rejoicing night and day,
As I walk the narrow way,
For the Comforter abides with me.

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

Why, Judas why?
Your kissed became the treachery symbol
Sold your faith but hanged yourself and die
After you returned that thirty pieces of silver

Why, Judas why?
Might you have a big crisis for money?
A sick parent or child, perhaps
To cure their pain, but ‘twas cut in the story

You returned the dazzling silver
Might they’ve never fulfilled their promise
To never hurt your master
That’s why you weep unto your best

Why, Judas why
If the tree and the rope could talk, they’ll never lie
Might you’ve kissed the image of your master in the wind
Before you bid the world goodbye


10-26-2015
Mysterious Aries

Ohh My life's Companion

It is better that I take my sorrows with me
Or,
Let me narrate the story of my heart
Let me douse you with my tears
And,
Let the tears swab down to your feet

With one eye I see, the other fully blind, but pity me not
For the Good Lord leads me. down the straight and narrow.
Being lead by him is the very best thing that could happen to me.
For I not only rely on his Sight, but his strength as well.
To get me through each day, to keep from sinning as well.
For he is my Supplier, and my Portion here as well my friends.
He shall guide me through the storms in this very life.
So I shall sing , Worship, Praise him, and rejoice in him.
For what I lack, I gain much more from my Savior and God.
For the things that I lack, I do not need them to be Saved,

Quiet evening on the porch . Explosions in the distance , the  soldiers are getting small , incoming ! Attention subjugated from intense light to the west ! It's storming in Alabama tonight ! I'm sure it is ! The insects , mesmerized by porch light , are growing in numbers , catapulted East by violent winds , the prequel to our own battle with Thor and his army ! An entire Division , preceded by artillery , wave after wave ! Refugees have flooded the screen in rear combat operations tonight , confused , terrified faces are flashing before my very eyes ! Sergeants are screaming commands on both sides of the road as the skirmish recedes !  Rain ... Puddles .. At six a.m. as the fog begins to lift , siren of whippoorwills , ambulances rush forward to gather the dead , the toy soldiers have bled all they can ..Their really just plastic anyway ! Play things , hallucinations , flashbacks , whatever word conjures , terminates repetitive mind games , conflict witnessed many years ago , committed to endless replay , delivered by a Summer storm from Alabama last night !

Pawpaw would rock by the fireplace in his favorite rocker ! The occasional whiff of Oak firewood and Borkum Riff pipe tobacco , I was hanging on to every word ! A narrative about a little boy in 1925 . Standing by his chair , as proud as I could be ! He'd look straight into your eyes without even flinching , the smell of Old Spice aftershave and Kentucky Bourbon . A shot glass with a gold rim ..A pocket watch his Father passed on to him ..Stories of a little fella from the south side of Atlanta relayed to a captive audience of one ! A starstruck grandson with a cup of hot chocolate , cap pistol , belt , holster , pajamas and house shoes ! Astonished with tales of Buffalo Bill ! Sergeant York and Wild Bill Hickok* !

Early morning in Putnam county , blue  , pink and yellow sky at daybreak  on a frosty November morning , freezing temperature exposing our breath as we alert the beagles of our presence.......The beagles know !!!!
Shot gun loaded , dogs released into thick Georgia pines and water oaks , depth perception and distance obscured . Within minutes the baying of the hounds begin , long and drawn , further each second filled by high pitched whimpers signaling the start..Song of rural Georgia , my Uncle and I on guard , the pack alerts the hunter of the cottontails arrival ....
We double time in the direction of the baying , the quarry is returning from start ,frozen ground crunching beneath our boots ....The dogs have returned , a single shot is fired and the contest has ended for now but repeated several more times that day....We return red faced from the cold ,  the smell of gunpowder and tobacco . The beagles at rest , we prepare our harvest for a feast at a later date ....Back indoors , coffee and a good day of hunting !