There is a place
in you
that needs a name
but you're an absolute beginner
at naming things.
Centred in this pathos, I've never known

whether to create stillness or bitter passion.
In this, there is a sacrifice,
something to see through to the end.

The openness I sometimes extract
can break me down.
Is it better
to find a way to say it?
Would it be better to hang for it

or to forget
how the fig is fertilised?
In its sweetness,
to forget
the distaste of undermining friendship.
I have stretched myself into the past.

I have stretched my body
to see the places it could end.
Vein bubbles
from where it started,
wet bloodgasps;
sorry smear of a poem

they write your name next to.
History repeats, all that's left;
neutrality at the cost of
a better passion,
and the count of
how many ribs you have and how many you've lost.

I abuse my fingers
and still expect them to carry me through.
There's always a way
to see trauma as something to crawl into.

Why did I cull corn just like all the
other chickens
At what point did I betray musical talent
for endless , repetitive nowhere living
To be eighteen again , 'tis a popular tune
sung by many
What caused me to write poetry for the first time
seven months ago , which fork in the avenue carried
me to everlasting love , why do I find great solace in being
alone
What force drives me to trouble my fellow writers
at this late hour with the roads I've chosen

In last night’s episode, a feeling washed over me

Lonely and alone, I broke down

And within those few moments of emotional inertia

I wept for everything and everyone;

For Prince and Bowie and all the others

For the planet

For my loved ones

and all of their problems I can’t solve

But not for myself, I wouldn’t allow it

I deny myself everything I need;

A person to love and be loved by

A shoulder to cry on

Permission to be weak

Help when it’s needed

A part of me died

and I reflected on how trivial it is

always making things difficult for yourself

Questioned why my life is so hard

As if it’s all some joke everyone is in on

They’re laughing and rooting against me

while I fall back down each time I get back up

Does anyone understand what it’s like in my shoes?

How can they when I don’t let anyone in?

Hell, I don’t even understand my own weary soul

So star crossed and aimless

and pulled in every direction

Searching….searching….unable to find solace

Looking for home in people and places and things

Put a noose around my heart,

hung it for all to see

There is no love for one so smart and strong

There is no place for one so resistant to belong

There is no hope, or so it seems

Impatiently waiting for someone to prove me wrong

To cut these ties

To free me from myself

To make me feel alive

Because **** it, I’m just like a beautiful flower

I thrive in the right environment

I will flourish and bloom

and grow into the best version of myself

Stable, no insecurity

My fruits will nurture you in return

I will love you like you’ve never been loved before

Baby, the brightest diamonds and pearls are made over time

The future’s gonna be good to me

Chin up, buttercup -

with death comes new life

To cast a shadow, you gotta walk in the sun
but I sure ain't walkin' - I'm on the run
To get through tomorrow, you gotta live through today
But I sure ain't livin' - I'm fading away

But that's o.k.
That's o.k.
I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive

To find your happiness, you must first be free
But I sure ain't happy - 'cause I sure ain't free

I ain't free
I ain't free
But I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive

Too many miles separate me from my past
Too many years I've spent wandering
Too many days I sit and I look into my glass
And my past comes slowly thundering

I once loved one woman unconditionally
Planned to romance her endlessly

She left me
She left me
But I'm alive, I'm alive

Yeah, I'm still alive
I'm alive
I'm alive

i.

Aloof, alamoth shalt be as caffoy
To the effulgence; betwixt the
Stretched out firmament.

None more dacryop's; for
Euphoria is permanent.

           ii.
        
            Multicolored adamant to be ourn walking step's,
            None ado; an ambassage of love so true, apace
            When airborne-balm of soothe.

                                         iii.

                                           Cheek to cheek, Rosy blush
                                           ****. Top-to-feet, robed by
                                           Heat; from white sustaining
                                           Spirit.

iv.

Mine lady, closer-feeleth me. Graze mine inner
Being. Touch mine blood that sing's; when thou
Art close. No longer art we the norm, we're now
Perfected from the storm's.

v.

Surmounting through those once
Infernal
Ghost's.

vi.

O' now we art untouched, protected
Alongside high-rank Host's;
Beauty is the most enlightening,
Being seen through thine
Glorious view.



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

He  stays  with  us  in  winter  storms
And  when  the  garden's  bleak
He  hops  around  in  sleet  and  hail
Appearing  pale  and  weak.

But  once  the  days  begin  to  lengthen
And  the  worst  of  winter's  gone
He  perches  high  up  in  a  tree
And  begins  his  joyful  song.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

The way a candle weaves its light through darkness.
How a snowflake trickles down from heaven above.
A virtuoso plucking guitar strings masterfully.
Your glamorous eyes, delicate face, memorizing body.

You sing an enchanting song, full of zealous love, and I cannot help but lose the breath from my lungs.
The fireflies dance and twinkle with grace, yet they are put to shame by your marvelous beauty. Each twinkle of the stars is a testament to their jealousy of your resplendent soul.

This must truly be an angelic dream!

Your voice carries across the air smoothly, eloquently, serenading my unworthy ears. Would you reward my boldness if I were to trace your lips with mine?
Take my weak hand and dance with me. Dance with me under the fairytale night. Step by step, hand in hand, unlock the fortune of this tragic heart. Hold this tragic heart. Love this tragic heart.

You are full of grace, a bewitching vivacity in the recesses of your heart, deeply entrenched and guarded. It is why I admire you from afar. Why these words spill from me to this page. Because of you.

Axiom does not lie upon the
plush bed of the words I've said.
It doesn't flourish under influence of the
flowery texts I've written.
Axiom does not fully exist behind the
actions I've deliberately displayed.

It is ingrained within the subtle folds,
inexplicable nuances
and playful innuendos.
It is present in the lull you find in between
fleeting memories and faltering heartbeats.
It is scored into the unlyricised songs,
sung when our breaths do meet.
It's in the unplanned gazes that
stray into nothingness
only to be caught by yours.
It's evident in the void... The silence we've shared
without ever feeling awkward.

Axiom...
Is the fall that you had anticipated
only after having taken the leap.
It's that feeling of not knowing where the bottom is
but yet still certain that you are safe.

Axiom is...
My unseen heart as it beats hard
for none other than you.

If a person would starve,
just so he could eat...
How could you think...
she would want him to suffer?

If a person would walk miles with him,
just to be sure he is safe...
How could you think...
she would want to harm him?

If a person would make sacrifices,
to ease his burden...
How could you think...
she would add to his worries?

If a person would silently cry all night,
feeling his sorrows and troubles...
How could you think...
she would hurt him? *

If a person has promised and have always,
kept his secrets safe with her...
How could you think...
she would intentionally betray his trust?

If a person could do anything,
just to make him smile, to see him happy...
How could you think...
she would deceive him?

If a person have done all the things that she could,
to prove that he means the world to her...
How could you think...
she would deliberately disappoint him?

If a person cannot imagine,
him not by her side as who he has always been...
How could you think...
she wouldn't care to lose him?

If a person have always treasured,
all that he have shared with her...
How could you think...
she would dare to make him feel this way?

If a person is only a person,
Only a human who made a stupid mistake...
How could you think...
she did not fall on her knees...
beating herself for the crime she had not committed?

If a person have always put him,
before herself...
How could you think
her heart is not breaking just as much?