There is a poet
And poetess
That writeth;
In the slums
And the ghetto's;
In the suburb's
In the meadow's.
There is a poet
And poetess
That prophecieth
In the mountain's
In the city, neath
Their graves, in
Tomb's, free one's,
Slave's, some known,
Many doomed, in
Heaven's gates, some
Art poor, some telleth
Of fate, some art lonesome,
Some speaketh of amour',
Some linger in the shadows,
Tortured by demon's, anguished;
Fighting hellish and earthly battles.
There is a poet and poetess that writeth in blood and in ink:
Some feareth death, death to some doth succumb when these artist's speak. Some hath wealth, some with naught, some groweth their own food, whilst other's stick to store bought. Some art peasant's, some art farmer's, some poet's preach and teacheth; whilst other's want to alarm us. There is a poet and poetess in this life and the next; some looketh down on loved one's, whilst the living is blinded by material net's. Some art lost, forgotten, some speaketh Spanish, Hindi, English, Arabic, french, lost languages, or Latin. Some just want to love, whilst some seeketh to findeth love, some want to flyeth away, as if a falcon or a dove. Some thinkest their better than most, others thinkest they art not better then noone, feeling dead as if a ghost. Some jotteth poetry to make them remember living, some art charitable, whilst poet's in prison sit and rot from killing or stealing. Some passeth time staring at the ceiling, whilst some overwork, some casteth their ten percent to worldly lusts, whilst other's pay to God in church. There is a poet and poetess that writeth, being dead or alive; O' poet's were all distinctly different though the same, in God's poetic eye's..............




©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Go on a scary ride 10 times in a row.
2. Go Skydiving.
3.Make a time capsule.
4.Spend 1 day without talking.
5.Say yes to everything for a day (expect if it is: harmful, embarrassing...).
6.Face my fears.
7.Learn how to drive a car.
8.Go camping for a week (with friends).
9.Go without TV for a month.
10.Donate blood.
11.Walk around barefooted for a day (SolesforSouls).
12.Dress like a hobo for two days.
13.Drink 100 cups of coffee (& stay up all night).
14.Take a picture of a jellyfish.
15.Change my style.
16. Read 10 classic books in a 2 days.

Words are harmless, so they say,
That's where the problem starts;
Sticks and stones
May break our bones
But words will break our hearts.



Words are harmless, so they say,
And point you to their charts;
It's harmless fun,
No damage done.
But... Who will mend our hearts?



The x-rays show no damage
Where words have scathed across,
But it still feels hard to manage,
And leaves you at a loss.



Words are harmless, don't complain,
That's where the problem starts.
It's quite absurd-
A single word-
Enough to break our hearts!



But words are harmless, they maintain;
The subject of their parts,
No less or more,
So let them pour
From all our broken hearts

i need to cry
but who can i call?
it's late
and you're sleeping
it's been a long day after all

i need to cry
but who can hold me?
it will be okay
it's not so bad
is what you've always told me

i need to cry
but i am here alone
each tear falls in silence
no one hears it
no one's home

i need to cry
but it may not stop
the ache in my heart
will hemorrhage
and it's the only life i've got

i need to cry
because it isn't fair
a thousand knives
into the core of my being
by saying he won't be there

i need to cry

i need to.

we were brought here on a boat
taken from our land against our will
we were sold for loose change
with a collar upon our throats
we fell beneath the soil
ate from the hands of the unholy
forced to take beatings on our backs
until our skin began to boil

while we break way from the chains
freedom ain't free in a land not built for us
we still must eat what we're fed
and follow commands from the reigns
Go back home, they tell us
Go back to Africa, they say
but they were the ones who took us
just so they could sell us

in an attempt to learn our roots
we stand in sand and land afar
hop on a plane of knowledge
in shiny over privileged boots
now Africa doesn't even know who we are
and they don't call their land our home
we aren't welcome, obrani they say
from our chest falls a shattered heart

poorly treated by our present and our past
it's no wonder we remain so broken
striving for equality until we die
misunderstood and fading fast
years of tiresome of repetition
the mission never changes
we just want to be accepted as human

Do you finally see the vision?

Betwixt the Alloquy
Of me and Reyna Jane's tongue's;
Spilleth out the astrology, aloft the moon and the sun.

God shalt unite us
In the new life;
Of the next.

Thither the peace coming
The fountain's shalt be running;
With Christ's aura of his mightiness.

The world's now faltering
Forward star's to hit this dune;
Annular mushroom cloud's, as well from man's nuclear doom.

As china faileth, and the State's of America fumble
I'm ready to go, so queen do knoweth;
The stock's art about to jumble.

Look high, mine love
To ourn creator above;
Trumpet's art about to be blown.

The celestial's art heavy
Ourn universal levee;
Is broken, so clingeth to me mine dove.



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