Some may sayest
I'm what they
Calleth, a conspiracy
Theorist.

Verily I sayest
I'm what I calleth
A conspiracy
Realist;



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Prophetic poetry

An ominous construction
In the gloming stood
It was dark, unlike the park
Of the neighborhood

Its architecture gothic
It was in disrepair
Its garden loomed and had no bloom
Just briars of despair

Cobwebs in the windows
Its gutters filled with leaves
The fence beneath like broken teeth
Wasp nests in the eaves...


The people living roundabout
We're angry! Up in arms!
Their neighbor had to labor
To give their place some charm!

So they all got together
And went there as a group
They had talked, and so they stalked
Up there to the stoop

There was a lengthy time
After the doorbell bonged
Then they knew the place askew
There was something wrong!

Some became quite anxious
They were sore afraid!
Their faces taut, they shook and thought
The house owned by a shade!

But finally someone answered
The mammoth darkened door
A wizened gal stood in the hall
An old lady! Nothing more!

"Have you finally come to help me?"
She asked, tears in blind eyes
"I lie in bed, my husband"s dead,
And I was just too shy..."

All the people were ashamed
Could not believe their part
As it were, blaming her
For the blackness of THEIR hearts!

So one by one they got some rakes
Some dustrags and some brooms
They changed their plan, made **** n span
They cleaned every room!

Bit by bit they found some wit
In the elderly girl
She took part, and had an art
Knew much of the world

So the moral of the story
Is plain as plain can be
Don't hold a grudge.
And please don't judge...
Until you finally SEE!


SoulSurvivor
(C) 4/14/2016

My mind is a maze
Mirrored walls
Sloped floors
I can't find my way out of it

Like a circus freak show
My mind freaks me out
Terrorizing me in the night
Invading my resting dreams

But in these times I'm lost
Although I'm scared and alone
There is peace in these halls
Of my mazed mirrored mind

I have known enough of life
To speak a word on the value of love,
And the quickness of a final breath,
And the separation caused by death.

I have bent to tie a shoelace,
Been overwhelmed with realization,
That when I stand again to look,
The loved one who came to mind
Has long been buried,
Will not hear me speak,
Nor say my name.

This morning, as we readied
Ourselves for work,
I stopped to pick a thing up,
Realized the joy
Of hearing my wife's sounds:
Cooking eggs,
Running water in the sink,
Putting things away,
And felt a rush of love.

I stood and walked to her,
Kissed her on the nose.

"What was that for?"

"I was overwhelmed by love just now."

Another day of anguished waiting
My earthly life, now put on hold
Another day, that I am hating
Of my death, I have been told

My life is now an hour glass
My days, those grains of sand
Veiled by tears, I watch them pass    
As I am funneled, to my end

I cannot slow or stop the flow
Each grain, thus bleeds my heart
All earthly things, I should let go
But I'm yet, not ready to depart
  
My sorrow strikes like lightning
Piercing bolts of what’s to come
My doubts and fears keep heightening
Until deaths hand does me succumb

In this world, I’m just a speck
My life, sifting into death
As that last grain, slips past the neck
I’ll take my final breathe

I wonder if, I’ll fly on wings
Or be prodded by a scythe
Will my remorse, then save my soul
When I am forced, to leave this life
BOEMS BY JA 498

We learn the power of our words
Is to learn the power of silence
We speak our prayers and hope to purge
Our hearts of all the violence

God needs no connecting devices
No internet, phone or letter
Though we speak 10,000 languages
Sitting in silence would be better

If it is language that makes us human
One half of language is to listen
Though silence can exist without speech
Speech without silence…something is missing

To pray is to listen to the unspoken
Only God’s speech in Creation
May the calm and the quiet be unbroken
Hearing God’s true syncopation

I trust answers that come in the silence
Like listening for a familiar song with words so sweet
Out of my cage of mortal consciousness
“Closer is He than breathing…nearer than hands and feet.”