I span time -

in every instance -

I am sickness -

devoured by flame -

reborn through Ice -

i.

Dacryop's falleth,
Whenever she
Is near; because
I don't deserve
Such a seraph
Of heaven's
Stair's.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( àgapi mou) dedication

I know when you haven't been around there's money in my savings account upper cut sucker punch you owe me lunch make it schwarma
love the greek deliver to your room get a sneak peak wish you'd just leave me alone but you know i'm weak when your out of control so move on give someone else a turn your a distraction i need to burn

Some days
Your eyes cry
At so much of what they see
And your heart is over full with sad memories
Feral thoughts tear at truths
And chew at hard-won confidence
Your twin lights
Of humour and humanity
Shall lead you back to your smile

                                          By Phil Roberts

Teen love has passed me by
all those hormones finally settled down
down to a manageable rhythm  
but it took decades rather than years
so do not be fooled or lulled
that teenager loves to hang around

yo, buddy...
dere's a secret to dis.
First of all,
a good, sturdy bed
of veggies;
carrots, onion, celery
chopped up fine.
Take your time
preparin' 'em.
Start a slow, steady heat.
It softens 'em up.
Now, dose tomatahs.
Y'gotta put your hands on 'em, see?
Firm, ripe globes
is what you're after.
Peel da covers off 'em,
and work 'em gently.
Get your hands right in dere.
Y'should have
a little moisture there by now.
Now, just keep da heat on low
and let things simmer for a bit.
Here's where you add your spice,
whatever floats your boat.
As mild or as hot as you like.
Whatever you do,
keep stirring now.
There may be a little foam
around da edges;
not to worry.
Just lower da heat a little,
so she doesn't boil too quick.
Now, be patient.
If you can let 'er cook for an hour,
dat's good.
Da longer, da bettah.
Soon, da smell
will be everywhere.
Lean in close and get a taste.
A little more spice
at da end, and

**BAM!!!

My little black book is dusty,
The names are smeared and
Most of them were landline numbers.
For you youngsters,
Get on your parents lap and ask em
To tell ya what landlines were:
    And I hate your love poem
    Because I know they are real,
    I need a girlfriend,
    Maybe I forgot how that feels.
    
    I hate your love poem,
    Its really quite good,
    But the t reminds me I'm all
    Alone, alone in da hood.

    I hate your love poem
    Because I don't know any girls,
    And yeah some are corny,
    Some make me wanna hurl!

    So don't get it wrong,
    Please try to understand,
    I'm just a little jealous,
    Alone and doing what I can.