ι.
Zoι мoυ, тнιѕ ιѕ тнe тrυтн,
Inѕιde oғ тнιne aмвιence;
I'м rapтυred вy тнιne
Fιlιpιna carтoυcнe.
           ιι.    Thélis na horépsis mazí mu?
vasílissa; O'er тнe gaze
Oғ Sapang delaga ғallѕ.
Herald'ѕ oғ Zιon,
Wιngѕpan'ѕ oғ
Alвaтroѕѕ.
  ιιι.
                Dιѕcιpleѕ oғ тнe lιvιng God
                Hallowed вlaѕнonιc'ѕ;
                An anassa тнoυ arт eтernally,
                Jane oғ ѕĸy'ѕ ѕυperѕonιc.
ιv.

Arιa'ѕ ѕprιng, вeтwιхт oυrn ѕeaм'ѕ, вoυndarιeѕ none, O' cнιldren-we'll вecoмe. Wнιlѕт ιn тнe ғυn, and laυgн and play, agapι мoυ, I needeтн тнιne мoon, тнaт вeaтѕ ιnѕιde тнιne cнeѕт, wнereιn вaвιeѕ reѕт, and нealιng Begιn'ѕ; Wнereιn I'м waѕнed wнιтe aѕ ѕnow, ғroм вygone old, ιnтo тнιne ѕoυl. I'м вorn agaιn.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry founder..
©Earl jane Nagley dedication ( Filipino rose)

ɨ.

Tաas I tɦat աas sɛռt tօ tɦɛɛ,
Fʀօʍ ɮʀɛaɖtɦ's ʄaʀ aռɖ աɨɖɛ;
I օɮsɛʀʋɛɖ tɦɛɛ ʄʀօʍ Vɛռʊs,
Jʊst ɮɛtաɨxt tɦɛ aʟʟ-sɛɛɨռɢ's ɛʏɛ's.

ɨɨ.

Caʟasɦaʏ ɦօʟɨɖaʏ, ɦɨք tօ ɦɨք,
Faċɛ tօ ʄaċɛ; ʍɛʟaʟօռʐօ ɦaʀքsɨċɦօʀɖ,
Sċʀɨքtʊʀɛs tʊʀռɛtɦ ɨռtօ քɨċtʊʀɛs,
Dɨaʍօռɖs ʍaҡɛ ʊք tɦɛ ʄʟօօʀ's.

ɨɨɨ.

Rʊɮɨɛs ʄօʀ tɦɛ ɦaռɖʟɛɖ ɖօօʀ's,
Gʀaċɨռɢ tɦɨռɛ tօʊċɦ; a ʍɨʀaċʟɛ
Oʄ tɛʟɛքatɦɨċ sքɛaҡɨռɢ, աɦɨʟst
Sɨքքɨռɢ ɢʀaքɛ sքaʀҡʟɛ ʄօʀ ɮʀʊռċɦ.

ɨʋ.

Iռċɛռsɛ ʀɨsɨռɢ aɮօʋɛ tɦɛ tɛʍքʟɛ,
Fʀaռҡɨռċɛռsɛ aռɖ ʍʏʀʀɦ; օʊʀռ
Tʀaʋɛʟɨռɢ's ċօռռɛċtɛɖ ɮʏ sքɨʀɨt,
A ҡɨռɢ aռɖ զʊɛɛռ ɨռ ɢօɖ's աօʀʟɖ.

ʋ.

Jʊst a ɮօʏ aռɖ a ʟɨttʟɛ ɢɨʀʟ,
Gɨɢɢʟɨռɢ tօ ɛʊքɦօʀɨċ ʄʊռ;
Pʟaʏɨռɢ ɦɨɖɛ aռɖ sɛɛҡ, ռօ
Pɛɛҡɨռɢ; ʝʊst tɦɛ քʊʀɨtʏ օʄ
Oʊʀռ ʟօʋɛ.


©ɮʀaռɖօռ Naɢʟɛʏ
©Lօռɛsօʍɛ քօɛts քօɛtʀʏ
©Eaʀʟ ʝaռɛ Naɢʟɛʏ ɖɛɖɨċatɨօռ ( Fɨʟɨքɨռօ ʀօsɛ)

A letter to my dear,
Sons and daughters
In a foreign language
Not known in my time,
But with hope in yours.
Where they may have fixed the
Imbalance of life.

I wish not to depress you,
But repress your mind
As my first impression is to point
A finger to time
The one whom answers
Questions in installments.

For this man once put me on stage
And my agenda was to impress
Twice to the infinite I could count
But I couldn’t find that one in my life.
Where are you?


Thus the nature I was born in,
Is to interest the world
And not bore it with normality
Not knowing that peace comes in many ways

For this foreign language
Seems to be a new era
Of blank pages that could be
Filled with one word
GREATNESS.

For yesterday I did things of shame
That are great for a story
That would become fame
Just the perfect ice breaker in my time.
Tip for if you ever find\have TIMEtoTRAVEL

Thus my vote belonged to extinction,
Since…



Justice is a commodity
Of the rich
As poverty is beautiful
Beautiful without the eye’s of the lens.

Though I don’t have doesn’t mean
Am not/I can’t
As My sight is set to the sky
Chasing a flower in the clouds as
I am still on the ground investing an idea.


Thus the gap of the market to success
Is the economics of humanities fate
As the scarcity of fear rises
Demand and supply seem to be losing
In a relation of ships
At  bay lacking goods.
On this graphic coordinates

Just may you understand
Humanity has no time to
Find you in the dark
For smoke signals will be put out
Neither translate your existence
If it’s not the curiosity that killed the cat.
Like “Chuck Norris whom speaks French in Russian”.

For they live on a constant
Quote status of
“I am available, but busy
At school watching a movie,
While at work
With a battery about to die
So I can’t talk, Whats App only
In a meeting at the gym
Sleeping on urgent calls only.”

As I myself live knowing
I speak a FOREIGN LANGUAGE ……
What is your translation of my existence???
For it seems your mistaken and troubled.
For generations to come.

Yours sincerely;
Poet Kiri
N. HANNY L.


PS: Life has gone digital
       Thus its STATUS RATED ®.
                                     Yours truly;
                                       Is to be the ONE.


©Hansmind, 2016

How do you walk alongside someone with locked pinkies without having the notion of them being both your tongues or legs?
Or when a single breath can't be taken without you hoping their next exhale will be your inhale?
Maybe these locked pinkies are a promise symbol,
That we have forever to do all that.
For now,these fireflies are my shooting stars.

When you woke me up
The first thing I saw were stars
Only they weren't stars;
They were your eyes.
They were so captivating that I found myself lost and swore I saw the entire universe.
When you woke me up
I saw your smile
But I thought it was the sun
For it shined so bright that I had to squint and as its radiance slowly stretched outward towards my skin I felt comfort in it.
When you work me up
I saw your scars and they were beautiful to me. They showed me your pain and I kissed everyone so you knew that regardless of what others may have seen I saw them as a perfect part of you.
These scars molded who you were and who you are and in that I find beauty.
When you woke me up
You woke up more than just my body; you woke up my soul.

And there she laid
resting so soundly,
afraid she would awaken
to my heartbeat pounding

I studied her for a few
before my fingers ran sleek
through her brown hair
and down her white cheek

She smiled softly
as her voice came to rise
a gleam of light shined
as she opened her eyes

I was in awe
lost in the moment
time had just stopped
I realized I owned it

Her hand came to life
and went over my head
moved down on my neck
and that's when I said

follow me ***
to come see our sun
a new day has birthed
a new chapter begun

So still we sat
as we watched over the hill
So firmly we embraced
as our hearts did fill

My front to her rear
I could just smell her hair
I whispered in her ear
"I've something to share"

She asked me what it was
and why I had returned home
I told her I had a question
that formed an epitome

I have returned to commit
and make you my wife
It's been you all along
The Truest Love Of My Life

Soon she did smile
as the sun rested on her eyes
We held hands in folding
Experiencing our First Sunrise

What are we
but a speck in this universe
of granite, metal and a burning tail
Fiery wild passion
moving in a constant speed
As if we already knew
As if we planned
As if written
As if measured
Do we count in Fibonacci's
in blindfolds eternally spin in this limbo
indulging ourselves in the futility of a dog chasing its tail
are we just asleep in this journey
conversing in our dreams
decoding static noises in the other end of the radio
for flight directions
over shifting planes of time
Like the stars believed that fate is their religion
Or the cosmos just furtive of its secrets?

-Margaret Austin Go, Lost in Orbit