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 Nov 2015
rained-on parade
Grief can take you places
where love never will;
valleys of sheets, unclasped
hands: your eyes,
an ocean of sorrow:

walking away from the shore
and into the deep blue
deeper, and farther;
I forget
I can't swim.
I love you,
like tragedy loves me.
 Nov 2015
rained-on parade
You can't close your heart down,
and then blame the rib cage.
 Nov 2015
Sin
She is the raven queen from way north of Orleans
The kinda girl who can party
Her dark silken hair eyes wide when they glare
And lips formed of crushed cherries

With men she could see how very easily
Her form could tempt them a stray
With a twirl of her hips a kiss from them lips
They fell like dominoes

Every night she would go
To the hipest disco and stalk the bar all night
Her raven good looks she knew what she took
Was more than any woman could want

But like every tale that's told
This raven got bold
And one night she got her wings clipped
In the shape of a man who just didn't understand
The need for her to preen

No matter her dance or the voice she command
He was not for turning
Fustration set in and as the night wore thin
She found the last steps to much

And as the moonlight did gaze
Her head was a haze of mixed love and true feelings
So this wouldn't do for the raven so true
And darkness once again she fled
 Nov 2015
beth fwoah dream
carnal scattering of
root and banished leaf,

merely human, the day
spreads maple leaves
like dark gusts of wind.
 Nov 2015
brandon nagley
i.

At the fore of the gateway
Precious stone's exhibited;
Her beauty and grace.

ii.

A crystal shined gold
Floweth from her soul;
Mine soulmate of heaven's place.

iii.

From her feet
To her waist;
A wine of jasper grape's.

iv.

Inside her ambience rested
Sapphire, chalcedony
Emerald, sardonyx
Sardius, chrysolite
Beryl, topaz,
Chrysoprasus,
Jacinth,
Amethyst.

v.

I was awestruck
God gaveth me unadulterated holiness;
I am verily hooked
To mine queen, mine Jane, mine happiness.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedication-Filipino rose
 Nov 2015
Denel Kessler
You must begin early
while it is cool and your head clear
discernment, a sharpened tine
probing the rocky darkness
for all things latent and destructive.

Be aware that the velvet sage
of the leaves belies their power
to take over every space, remember
roots burrow deep, anchoring in
fissures we don’t even know exist.

You must delve as close
to the origin as possible
or the **** you think eradicated
will bide its time, germinating
in the still secret ground

waiting for light
to penetrate the moist earth
waking the sprout
who voraciously pushes up and out
a curled blemish

in your otherwise carefully tended garden.
 Nov 2015
A Lopez
Nicely penned
Well inked
Great write

All words of grace
From a poet.
 Nov 2015
Sjr1000
Destiny's child
had a smile,
"How are you doin"
She winked.

"There have been many
close calls,
I've done my best
Afraid you'll have to do the rest"

Yanked out of the way
of that car
flying by at a hundred miles an hour
paused just long enough,
Didn't fall when surrender called.

There was that 18 wheeler
changing lanes fast,
Snow flying everywhere,
Couldn't see me,
Moved on over to the center divider,
The only place not concrete,
Destiny's child
she likes to smile,
Laughs with glee,
A tinkerbell to me.

The CHP didn't look into my pocket
"Please"
Destiny's child
she's been on my side,
I just go along for the ride,
She takes care of everything.

We've all had 'em
many close calls,
Almost near falls,
Some have her
some don't,
Some survive,
Some die.
Directing traffic,
Destiny's child,
Roads not taken
every once in a while.

There she goes laughing,
She can be pretty wild,
Destiny's child.

There ought to be a Tarot card
with her name,
When she steps in
the game will change,
She knows how to dance on the
head of a pin,
Change generations
with a gleeful laughing grin.

Destiny's child
She was there that night,
When I was looking through the circular light
Stop sign with a grin,
She knows when you gotta end,
She knows when you gotta begin.

You'll catch her out of the corner
of your eye,
When the light's just right,
She ain't up there with the green flash,
But she definitely has class.

Destiny's child,
I'll be grateful to her
'till the last gasp.
 Nov 2015
Sjr1000
I've returned from the cyclone
Not quite intact
These images are haunting me
Every time I close my eyes.

No patience for people
Their ways take me under
I erupt in fury far too often.

My arms are a Jackson Pollack
My face in the mirror a Salvador Dali
I'm trying the best I can.

The doctors throw cocktails of drugs
my way,
I don't remember who I am
or care to even try
Your either against me or on my side.

I've been hurt too many times
My eyes are likely to swim to the side
I'm dizzy
I'm dumped

My days are too long
My nights are too strong

You think you've got it rough
A little empathy, please
Think of what it's like
to be me.
Not autobiographical, dedicated to all those who suffer from past trauma and Post Traumatic Stress, healing is possible.
 Nov 2015
ThePoet
Like autumn leaves, our love
begins to beautifully grow
into a vibrant, colourful, 
radiant, and vivid glow

And just when love becomes
the most exotic and bright, 
it withers away and dies 
until the next autumn sight
 Nov 2015
r
Oh, sad Poet,
cartographer
of the heart,
mapping the geography
where sadness
is the topography
of your soul.

Oh, Cousteau
of the changing tides,
like an oceanographer,
an admiral  spying
the enemy on the horizon.
Your sorrow comes and goes.

Oh, builder of sad dreams
in your house of many rooms,
but one door. Like a grave,
a casket shellacked with
black paint, a mural
of a shadow on the wall.
Architectural sorrow.

Oh, you sad Poet,
open your eyes,
paint us a poem of a rose.
Poem penned straight at the author.
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