May be from the pivot of our eyes
The Nile goes into the sea, indeed
But Nile itself knows there is no sea
Nile goes and goes farther
And in the sea Nile goes through

If you saw a basket over the nameless waters
You would pick it
Pick it and smell the history
You will find my words of kindness and affection
inside it
Which continuously give birth to a newly-born child
A little voyager with a rod

Crashing waves
The steady wind
Chirping birds
The wind chimes on our old porch
Sounds of thunder rolling into our small town
The most beautiful noises I can think of.
These are the sounds I hear when I close my eyes.

One sound is missing however.
*I can no longer hear your voice

I was ten when
I got caught stealing
blue chalk from the pool hall.

My daddy wore me out
with a black leather belt.

He said *What'd I tell you
about writing sad poems
on the back of the stones
at the orphan's graveyard?

It seems the poorer man
Always writeth with word's
So rich;



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

The night was made for loving
But the days are said to be
The death of a poet’s eye before,
He says what has to be said.

There’s no heat in the city,
Only depression and misery
All around town, no garbage collection,
Only rental units with
high vacancy rates seems counterintuitive,

The colours of the disposable bags
Said, sacks and waste, bed bugs, and roaches,
So take your landlord to court and come out on top
Said the poet, before death trap us

As I drove around the city, my heart is oppressed with
anguish to the very point of death that surround us.
That awful display on every city block.

Homeless men and women urinate, defecate,
Behind, the doors and alleys,
we need a wind of change today
the night not so much matter

However, it’s the day after everything comes to light,
Another lost soul, another day to push forward
Is it illegal to be homeless, when trying to try to stay alive?
The Devil will try to stop anything good!

I am the poem, the naked poem
Feel the poetic tone. From the moment
you laid eyes on me.
The break lines and the awkward feeling,
you get throughout each stanza,
represent my beautiful nakedness

Then comes the unprovoked aggression of my actions,
Never blanket my words,
let my audience feel the power of my strength
I am the poem that can never be ban
I rather you wouldn’t strip my words from the truth,
but embrace it with an open mind

Dear October,
Bathing me in a full moon
Supersized and the colour of
McDonald's cheese.

Bright through the thick curtains
Of my bedroom, where I rest in
Sober solitude.
A dim red, even through heavy

Eyelids.
Dear October, breathe your faintly
Frosted scents through my open
Window, leave my stellar

Night light on.
I need no fingertips caressing my
Face goodnight.
I have friends like little planets.