Thy effigy was so charming
It can grips a heart
Thy face of youthfulness
It can tranquilized a war

Many roses envied thee
Their complaints was loudly burst
That blessed was unjust
That you owned a beauty, to them ugliness

Thy prettiness a weapon
Can  slave a kingdom
But it feared someone
The monstrous beast - the time

Thy beauty was rotten
The one that allured thousand kings
Thy effulgence doom
A star that used to be dream...


written: July 31, 2001 at 7:00 pm

Mysterious Aries

may be we have not written

anything today , or maybe

we have.



just not on paper or type, yet

in our minds with eyes and ears,

the smell of smoke and coldness.



it maybe we played the words

in arrangements, with feeling.



longing to walk, having  to work.



the garden changes, and it may

be, that we have written this.



sbm.

My days at Penlandia definitely reached its afterglow
Now it’s hard for me to find my rhythm
Hopefully, the soul of some of my poetry will find their mark
If not unto someone’s head, then to somebody’s heart

I hope my words are not just vandals on the wall
Nor merely a stain on the paper
I created them to touch, stab, **** and make love
To bring peace unto hell and create fire in the sky above

It’s up to your eyes now, my dearest readers to magnify
Hate my stuff or love them
What's the reason why I’m inches away on parking my pen?
Voices from the other side echoes within my ear again and again

That’s why I’m writing this poetry as if my last
But if one day you’ll see me deploying another poem
I hope you enjoy stories with an unexpected ending
Besides, even the afterglows have a little radiance remaining

Mysterious Aries

11/19/2015

Whispering eyes
You tell me no lies
  You speak my absence
You know my truth
I'm dying to be inspired
I long to see what you see
  I need you immensely
Like education
  Teach me your liberty
I want to be enabled like rain
Release me from cloudy skies
  Quiet my thundering blue

Your tranquil breath
    Envelop all of me
   Your heavenly touch
Soothes the beats of my heart
  I crave for solace
In your wings of warmth
  Take me with you
Into the deep serene
  Engulf me with  
Your duvet of love*

  My lunar eclipse
  With shivering lips
What you sung above
Leave me lost for words
  I search from within
Just beneath my skin
  I discover a gift
A sanctuary of roses
Volcanic in nature
Your presence erupts
  A scent of divinity
May you clip these wings
  Only here with you
Is where I rather be

Let us soar
As the empyreal embosom
  Beyond the universe
Outside the realm of
   Imagination
   Embracing the seclusion
Trunks of our hearts entwined
   They beat as one
Without qualms
Exhaling carefree
  Contentment
Slowly sipping eternity

Justin G
Eudora

There is no you
and there is no me
There is only us
and there is only we
There is no letting
go of me and you
When life was only
made for just us two

©

it is always the coldest
before the sun rises?


soulsurvivor
(C) 11/19/2015

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

you fall in love
so strongly
with booksellers
  and baristas
    and the girl next door
because as someone said
we are creatures of habit,
and the fact that you're able
to see them more than once
  to refresh their own face on your memory

unconsciously blows your ******* heart up.
you see all of these beautiful entities
walking and breathing
and dying and living,
and you fall in love with all of them.
but soon enough,
maybe after three nights of seeing
  them blurry in your eyes,
you forget their faces and what they were wearing.
you forget how they laughed
  or smelled
  or talked about whatever.
but not her.

you don't forget her
with the short
shoulder-length blonde hair,
with the glasses and big smile.
you don't forget
how she said you looked cute
and talked about vonnegut
  and charles bukowsky.
but she probably forgot you.

You are the riddle I never want to stop trying to figure out

OH!
What feeling compares to the warmth inside these bones
when I awake at Dawn to a still house,
and comfortable bustle awaits
There is none!
no other mornings compare to such
what with floating voices and metaphoric hugs
a sunday to its monday; disparate
and i'd make the hours stretch if i could
like a Dough prepared for
round laughter
to be enjoyed with glasses of
tall bliss
every Eye i meet glimmers
Glimmers!
with amity to spare
and the Earth around is brimming
Brimming!
with wonder I cannot describe to you
in words
an ode
to sundays worth living for

The poet
To God
Is an apostle
Of wisdom;

The poet
To God
Is the bringer
Of God's kingdom;

The poet
Created by their Creator
Writeth heavenly knowledge down
On spiritual paper;



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

I feel like a foreigner
standing on a pier
waiting for word from a lover
across the blue water of tears.