Anger builds, like a fire
Neglected flames only grow higher
In the heart, the intention burns
Making smoke with dark concerns
Undulating through and through
Scorching only, the inside of you

Red rivers flow through
Black and blue corrupt our hearts
Slowly perishing.

never speak as if the idea,
of you being a poet is gone,
for what and why.
Words are all in the sky free to use,
arrange as you imagine their needed placement,
take a few ,spit twice on your palms
rub them together and make it. true!

The weather plays me
just as well as anything.
Some sun would be nice.

“Man is not what he thinks he is…”*

When the vessel is breached,
all of its dark matter seeps from
its fresh fractures.
No longer the secure transport
for such highly valued secrets,
its worth now teeters on worthless.
Weathered from unwelcome silence
and worn from
a thousand whips of the tongue—
it rests empty but easy;
never again to be admired
for its heavily cloaked mysteries.
And with every drip from every crack,
it finds solace in all of these
parted shadows;
it finds meaning in
all of this strange new light.

*“…he is what he hides.”

i.

Two entities, henceforth defying gravity, afloat insanity; we art passed that point. We art crazed, a duo insane, madly in love to the brimful. We art unknown to the world, extramundane pearl's, connecting to maketh the same link.

ii.

Roses yellow, aloft the meadow's, on one knee I bow, to taketh a ring, sunshine gleam; to slip onto her finger, whilst choir's sing loud.

iii.

Into her iris, I swirleth around, I sink into comfort, her pupil's art made of mystical realm's. A kingdom of Jane, wherein mine heart Pound's, because her beauty is woven into mine soul and back out.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedication

Galileo couldst not even seeith
The heaven that lieth
Inside queen Jane;

Einstein couldst not even dreameth
The beauty
Inside of her brain;

Edwin Hubble lived inside
Of a bubble, being blinded
From her view;

Stephen hawking, forget thine
Scientific talking; mine empress
Is from God, a divine muse.

Isaac Newton, recalculate thine
Mathematic's; mine amour' is not a number,
Awakest from slumber, sweet Jane is aromatic.




©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)

Illustrious.
Enchanting.
Floral.
Angelic.
Bashful.
Awestruck.

Touch.
Spark.
Quiver.
Taste.

Lush.
Succulent.
Infinite.
Hope.

i.

I wilt plunge neath thine cocoa covered pupil's,
I seeketh to succumb, to thee;
Mine poetess minstrel;

ii.

I wilt incessantly be patient for thee
Mine queen; O' how heavily this heart weigh's;
With thou so far, so far away.

iii.

Please cometh quickly mine amour', for thee I'm engraved,
Etched into thine bone's, thy skin, thy name;

iv.

We art not other's, not the "norm", not the same: for this heart burneth in flame's, O' with thee far away;

v.

If I dieth tonight, or the earth crisps away, please knoweth I'll still waiteth, for thee mine queen; Beyond the grave.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane nagley ( Filipino rose) dedication