I know the difference between right and wrong,
Been in this game since when i was born,
Watched these movies and listened to these songs,
Even when am happy and when i am torn.

The woodland is getting empty each day,
Its today and tomorrow will not remain the same,
If they could speak, what would they say?
whatever it is, we are not to blame.

No matter the condition, we will produce a line,
It is in our blood, it is what we do;
the product of the woodland aids our design,
To some, this is sad but what can we do?

i.

From the soot
I shalt awake;
In mine arm's
Love do take,
Queen, mine
Home, mine
Night and day;
Mine trove of
Treasure, to
Thee I stay.

ii.

In the aqua
Dip mine head;
Living nomad's
Oriental home-
Stead. Taking
Breath's, blowing
Out heat, touching
Toe's, united feet.
From below, thence
The deep, in thy tress,
I wrap around, once unheard,
Now thou hath heard mine sound's.
From the crypt, where I was buried, I cried out loud,
In painful worries; mine ghost scurried, to and fro, then I saweth
Thee; mine Jane, mine own. Thus then was saved, from the foul devil's, I was rescued, brought to thine refined level.


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

but I am a just an absurd poet
who writes about your love
from the first time it bloomed
when your light filled my room
to the moment my words bleed
when you stepped my heart with your feet

Your son
decides to quit
med school to be a poet;
you're thrilled he's turned to healing
souls.

Ang katotohana'y di ko batid kung paano ko susugatan itong papel
Kung aling sandata ba ang gagamitin, itong punyal ba o kaya'y baril
Mithi kong bawat panitik na bibitawa'y mapatakan ko ng sariling dugo
Dahil bawat papel na masusugata'y tiyak unti-unting hihilum sa puso kong bigo

Ang bawat isasalaysay ng taong malapit na sa kanyang dapit-hapon
Dadamhin alaala ng lumipas, na para lang itong naganap kahapon
Umaasang maaklat ninyo ang aral na nais ihatid
Pulutin ninyo ang ginto, ang bato'y iwanan sa sahig

Maraming salamat kung sakali mang makikilangoy kayo sa aking ilog
Kulay pula man ito'y lilikhain ko itong may kalakip na pag-irog
Mula sa susugatan kong papel magaganap ang lahat
Lapis na punyal at baril ko'y nakahanda nang gumawa ng aklat....



04-10-15

mysterious_aries

a learning experience
- the detailed
timing and precision

- a certain etiquette
in the rise and fall
of hands and feet

i learned the walk
- mirrored on the toe
of a spit-shined boot

shooting imaginary doves
in white gloves -

the proper fold
of the cloth
- tight and taught
with stars above

the tri-fold - not
a trifling thing we're told

the color of a mother's tears
and grip of a father's grief -
the why in the cry of a child

- sad song of the bugler
on a windswept hill
standing in the detail.

r ~ 10/29/14

"I live not in myself, but I become
Portion of that around me..."
George Gordon Byron

"The bliss of man (could pride that blessing find)
Is not to act or think beyond mankind:
No powers of body or of soul to share,
But what his Nature and his state can bear."
Alexander Pope

"...body is but a striving to become mind... it is mind in its essence"
Samuel Taylor Coleridge

"... insight that he in some sort possesses,
A privilege whereby a work of his,
Proceeding from a source of untaught things
Creative and enduring, may become
A power like that of Nature's."
William Wordsworth

"What am I? ?Nothing: but not so art thou,
Soul of my thought with whom I traverse earth,
Invisible but gazing, as I glow
Mixed with thy spirit, blended with thy birth,
And feeling still with thee in my crush'd feelings' dearth."
George Gordon Byron

"Imagination is a Divine Vision not of the World, or of Man, nor from Man as he is a Natural Man, but only as he is a Spiritual Man."
William Wordsworth

"Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
With a woaful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;
And then it left me free."
Samuel Taylor Coleridge

"That awful Power"..."which unites clearness with depth, the plenitude of the sense with the comprehensibility of the understanding".*  * the creative faculty [my note]
S. T. Coleridge

The morning smelt like one of those lost summers,
those bright mornings I remember as a child
before I understood beauty.
It tasted like the cool milk I’d sipped on the cusp of a promising day,
when the stern rebukes of my father could not dim
the power of the blue sky to lift my spirits.
Sadness barely grazed my knees as I walked on the dewy grass
for everything was a masterpiece I'd never examined properly.
The air was warm and golden,
and I was the knight or the lost hero and the afternoon was
set to be filled with imagination and friendships
that I clasped so dear.
But we were sitting on the wall of the Garden of Eden,
looking in and drinking in its beauty, but knowing,
behind us that a dark fiend lurked,
yet never minding to turn around to look properly.
It was when who we were was not quite tangible,
when the light softened the whirling confusion of growing and forming
and we could smile and laugh
and think never mind tomorrow, it's today.
Yes, for a moment, the morning smelt like a lost summer,
so quickly fleeting.

i.

Je t'aime dans la vie
Je t'aime dans la mort;
Je t'aime dans l'obscurité
Je vous donne meilleure mine de.

ii.

Je t'aime à la lumière
Au-delà de la tombe la mine;
Je t'aime comme un homme libre
Je vais vous aime comme un esclave

( French version)

( English version)


i.

I love you in life
I love you in death;
I love you in darkness
I give you mine best.

ii.

I love you in light
Beyond mine grave;
I love you as a free man
I'll love you as a slave.



©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane Nagley dedication+Filipino rose
©Lonesome poets poetry