My country is in chaos.
Seats of power are exchanged,
Unelected come-down
And steep fog of uncertainty.
The poor are painting their signs,
Others lock their doors.
Tear gas spills in streets
Far from suburbia,
On the shoulder of Europe.

I struggle to sleep.
Not for tragedy
But missed calls
And lack of shelter.
For you and your
Darkened corner,
Bleak winters-
The last time
I saw you in the sun.

Petroleum fills
The lung of the sea.
Swarms gather in luscious greed,
Footfalls over concrete:
The peace sign
White poppies
And paper cranes,
Stubborn **** in the rock,
The busker with fingerless gloves;
The nightclub spilling over
Into violence.

I strain my eyes,
Not in tears
But in chemicals
And lack of vitality.
For you and your
Elusive path through life,
Over-complicated strides.
Simple, temporary medicine

That is the comfort
And not the cure.

The stars blot out,
One by one.
Each neon skylight
Fractures the night
In pink clouds.
Flowers die over the railings
Where they could not
Save his life.

I contain my breath,
Not in calm
But poisoned blood
And lack of air.
I can barely breathe
Without you here.

My country is in chaos.
Earth spins in a slow disease.
Still all I can think of is you-
Whether you are thinking of me.

Dad looked up and stared at me; His blue eyes aging, but still clear.
“Reflection, Son. Reflection. It’s like I’m looking in a mirror.
When I look at you, I see myself, about twenty years ago.
I’m on the final laps of life, you have a few to go.
We don’t communicate so well; It’s hard to tell you how I feel,
But now I’m feeling pretty scared, and I sure hope that Heaven’s real.
I made a list of things I learned; I hope you understand,
If I had done a better job, I’d have been a better man.”

“Go 60, don’t go 80. You’ll still get there way too soon.
Turn the TV off at night, watch the clouds drift past the moon.
Tell your wife and kids you love them; Use every chance to hug them tight.
And listen to the crickets and the tree frogs sing at night.
Life is like a movie; There’s a large supporting cast,
Surround yourself with love and friendship, they’re the only things that last.
Don’t be too ******* others; And give yourself a break,
Maybe, Son, it’s not too late to learn from my mistakes.”

“The doctor thinks the cancer’s back, and there’s nothing he can do.
I guess I understand it, after what I put my body through.
Your Mother and I discussed the end – one of us would be the first.
I can’t bear to talk about it, but watching her die was the worst.
She was a special woman; Now she’s waiting up above.
At least I hope that she is waiting, I know I’ve been hard to love.
I’d much rather she was sitting here, my ashes blowing to the wind.
But if there’s a silver lining, it’s that I’ll be with her again.”

“You kids are what we’ve left this world. You are our legacy.
I hope you got the best of her, and not so much of me.
Look at me as if you see your own reflection in a mirror.
Heed the ever-present warning, ‘Things may be closer than they appear.’
I’m tired, and old. I’ve made mistakes, but I worked hard, and did my best.
When God gives me a final score, I hope the good outweighs the rest.
Reflection, Sons, and Daughter. Reflection is the key.
God give you strength and courage to change - based on what you see.”
PwL 5/18/16

i.

Inside the aumbry of thy rib's,
Mine verses there queen
Shalt alway's live. When
Thou doth close thine
Engineer orb's,
Knoweth this
Mine Jane;
Mine pearl.

ii.

Long agone, god choose thee,
To be mine darling from the sea;
The one who whisper's to me when I sleep,
In thy soul mine poetry speaks.

iii.

If tonight mine inhalation shalt cease
I'm not just flesh, but a spirit antique;
Mine word's hath come from the up above,
To show thee forgiveness, and Christ's own love

And don't forget queen where thou camest from
From the Almighty's hand's wherein life dost come,
Where the Angel's fly, and the mountain's hum
Past the human sun, in the third heaven.

iv.

So go to sleep Reyna, and dream of me,
One day we'll meet, O' please believe;
And when thou dost wake in the morrow
Thou shalt seest the clear amour that follows.

And smile we wilt do plenty of,
For we aren't of earth, but sky's above;
And when thou shalt see the light
I'll guide thee where there is no night.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou) dedicated

You
      I see
in smile-crinkled eyes
our later emotional distance
would have led
to my demise

You
how we reunified
awkward, then sweet
I almost didn’t recognize
              this frail man
standing by
the train station street
only when you
waved, started
limping did I understand
       And I said, "No! Wait" and
flew over to you,
a five-year- wait
for a bearhug
  so long overdue

You had forgotten your cane
in the excitement
of it all
My heart was strained
in tenderness
and worry that you
would fall

You
only you
could always make me
laugh uncontrollably
embarrassing me
in NY streets
   with songs and general madness
teaching me about life
on our city walks
and talks
observations made
through Second Avenue
diners
   and Sunday parks
our secret language
           and made-up
funky creature
our "who's gonna eat
the most spicy thing"
an essential
Chinese restaurant
                  feature

I cried each night
for a month
after you left the house
          thinking you left because of me
even though you and mom
explained it countless times
that this was untrue
but alas--- seven-year-olds
have their reveries
and when you did remarry-
a few years later
I grew to love her, too

My crazy-sweet
quietly loving
always open to me
never judging
How I hurt you
So unintentionally
And how finally,
in such grace,
you came back to me

You
are still my precious
bear hug sweet daddy
survivor of war
of car accidents
always wanting me
to meet my dreams
I think of you, now
so lonely
over there
I sit in my solitude
quietly stare

How ironic
We are again close
yet an ocean apart
a phone line's airwave
away
from my
        open heart



'

travels a long way without me and when she does return
it's like she did not find anyone else
I think there is some wise *** saying about
if you love someone
turn them loose
and I guess our love that seems eternal now
has had many ups
and downs
and lows and  
highs
and all I know  is every
time she taps on
my figurative window
I wake up with the  
biggest ******* grin
does that mean
Love?

My father died
from a gun shot wound
to the head

self-inflicted

Don't get all weird about it.

Fathers die
and their passing
though certain
is rarely easy.

So what can I say of this man
so many years
after his emphatic end?

I can say what Whitman said
of Lincoln:
"O Captain, my Captain.
Rise up and hear the bells."

But he will not.

He was ever-present
wise and alert
a boxer in life
a fighter in every way.

And I grew up with the gloves on
quick
elusive
and thanks to him
successful in every ring.  

He died
******* on a lit tobacco stick

Emphysema was gonna
take him down
so he pulled his own trigger
saved his family that way
though that's a longer tale

Therefore
and whereas
this is a belated requiem
for a man I loved.
My Captain.
Dear and departed
these many years
may he rest in peace
as he never rested
in life.

Wistfully
Wishfully
My daydream drift
Takes me eye to eye
And hand in hand
On a sunny morning
Somewhere
Settling dust
Step by step
And side by side
There's a tide close by
Responding to gravity
And gravity of sorts
Draws our souls
Fatefully
Inevitably
Together

                     By Phil Roberts

Propeller hat:

A poem about us-

     Exquisite equation
     So simple and classic
     Calm sea of frustration
     And new life Jurassic

     Shabbily dressed to the nines
     Your metal-band flute
     My tangles of straight lines
     The angles acute

     Never cross (without reason)
     My low-born sublime
     Through good and bad seasons
     Sans passage of time


Love,
Your jello-y rock