Daily why try more for college when all it does
Is bankrupt me.
New school reality

Distracted thoughts, unhinged
Realities of multiple soft whispers,
Unstable voices rattle in bone.

clueless versus innocence
there really is no difference
one is polite and one is offensive
neither is based on resistance

do you want to remain nameless?
blameless, i guess is subjective
like a fire pit that remains flameless
our language is defective

Like pop rock's
When she saidst she loveth me;
I jumped out of mine body
As mine pneuma went thither the nebulosity.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication

To many complain these days
If they don't get their way its a rant an moan session. Daily work has shown me the meaning of costly annoyance.

Confessions of  a dull blade, it tasted life as it
seeped and sealed death with Its last ******.

It was inanimate but had existence of life seeped
in to its hilt,Voices silent trapped under the hand

Their grip soaking sealing in fallen silence, looking
in to the eyes of so many and then kissed there forehead.

A last rite the au revoir as the dull blade made slow
Work of a mummer, words bleed silence out.

They cherished this moment of intimacy, this personal
Exchange, of life and death, slumped on soiled ground.

Dull blade, tainted handle, of voices silenced this inanimate
Object of desire that crafted by another's macabre thoughts.

Blood congeals as life condenses into nothingness, walking
Away the dull gift takes it now pride of place.

Little voices of word, in charm they whispered of what they wished.

"What is it you wish my children on this darkened night,

But no voices spoke, good taught vices, strangers to never have spoke.

"Children never worry, I only ask out of alone you are on this night,

Then a voice speaks out, as I have walk further in to twilights grasp,

"Kind lady my children hunger, do you so generously offer to feed?

"Children who spoke those words unseen?

"Father told us to take this form, to earn our supper this night,

Form? as shivers perforated her mind, hands grasping at wrists tight.

**"Your our feed, and your soul tastes just this side of ripe.....

being a poet, i live through the words
i transplant emotions i've found
no matter how they think it's absurd
these words keep pouring down

being a human, i'm cursed with these thoughts
what else am i to do?
i write them down to untie the knots
just trying to think it through

being a poet, that's for the birds
i try to sing to the clouds
i set my pain free through my words
the words i can't say out loud

I don't knoweth
Where I wouldst be;
Without mine
Filipino queen.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication

Spiraling,
down,
down,
down,
crashing,
smashing,
impact,
layers of hate,
miles of pain,
back to Earth.