Beaugelic quempress,
A Serentifying archipelago
We shalt repose; nearby a
Bryefire, burning liquid's
Of scented rose. Gardenia
Perfume, to sheen ourn
Outer layer's; scribing
Of the almighty, inscribed
Into ourn conscious, galaping
Another's inviting. Extraciting-
Anjarising, O' flambustic passing;
Her cherithronius' marble foundation,
Hast given me solid ground, wherein
I heareth the most karstrett of once was
Lost, now found. Darshaying in Romanticism's
Prism; making drum beat's to **** street's,
And archaic rhythm's.



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

I offered you my time and You shat on it...I hope one day when the high finally fades, you realize what I meant to you and as you look through the shattered pieces of what was once a good bond, I hope you find a reminder of who you used to be,before your cup was filled to the brim and your pride just became too much to swallow.
Who you were before you started needing compliments to feed your ego ,
Before the world only became tolerable to you through a designer drug haze.
You used to be a person before you crowned yourself Queen,
High on your throne where no man could hurt you again.
You figured a Queen without a heart would put you on deck and have you sailing to paradise.
Forgetting you had to carry all your luggage, including yourself.
Feelings have no escape, and if you succeed in escaping love , you still find hate.
It's a foreign word to my tongue
Even though you made me a sidekick and then kicked me aside
I could never hate.
I let you sleep on me but now I'm awake.
You swore to yourself you would never cry, A thought that left not only your eyes but your soul dry.
It's okay to cry
The thing about tears is ,the world becomes blurry momentarily, but at the same time you never see a picture as clear.
Maybe that's why you won't shed a tear, because you are too afraid to look at the canvas you let everyone but yourself paint.
Scared that it won't come out as perfect as you envisioned.
Maybe that's why you had to let me go, because I wasn't the right shade to be put in such a picture.
For what it's worth, you'll always be on my canvas, as a permanent mark, a delicate part of the picture that could not be completed because of its nature...
I guess it took its toll,
Nature that is.
And when the wind blew in our direction the branch we shared wasn't enough to hold us together.
So I let go, this leaf took leave.
I hope your social stature is enough to keep you afloat.
And my final words?
Save yourself.
This is the end, and I hope you are happy.

We meet like fire and water, bursting into steam
swinging round each other, splitting at the seams
our slowly growing entropy, sees darkness before death
the energy, no sympathy, clutches its last breath.

You fall into my watering eyes,
through dance we somehow stabilise,
the swell between the crashes of the ocean,
the moments underneath the motion.

The stable explosion.

ι.

Her vιѕage ѕнone ιn тнe ѕтarѕaleт ѕalυтaтιon.
Her reѕιdυe, oғ ѕυnѕтreaĸed groove; O' нow
Holy waѕ тнιѕ ιnvιтaтιon.

ιι.

Oυrn ѕтory waѕ long тιмe overdυe.
Waιтιng, paιnιng ғor one-anoтнer;
A ĸιng, a qυeen, a poeт;
Hιѕ мυѕe.

ιιι.

Aѕ тнe color'ѕ oғ yellow, green and вlυe,
We ғυѕed, ιgnιтed, вιrd'ѕ eхcιтed;
Taĸιng oғғ ιn wιngѕpan oғ
Kroѕнonтυѕ velaвeeм.

iv.

Loѕт lover'ѕ, ғoυnd agaιn, wιтнιn
A dreaм oғ aιѕleѕ we ѕwaм; ѕqυalιne
Beaм-ѕнιne, paѕѕιon ғroм тнe dιѕтanт
Age, eхιѕтence oғ Cнrιѕт'ѕ cнoѕen. Once
Enтoмвed, now awoĸen. Bonιeѕ claѕped,
Spιrιтιnιυм υnвroĸen.

v.

Marвle'ѕ opened, тo тнe grand, тнe new.
Dιvιne вooĸ вeғore υѕ; ιn тнιrd-нeaven
Trυтн. None мore тнιng'ѕ тo нoldeтн υѕ
Bacĸ, none мore нencнмen, nor тнe nooѕe.
Necĸ'ѕ ғree, lιғe'ѕ ĸey, тo paradιѕal ғιrмaмenт,
Allelυιa we ѕιng.




©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)

whenever you kiss my forehead
that adorable half-smirk
stroking my hair
your snicker (you know what i'm talking about)
the comfort of sitting in silence
you tolerate my love of books
how your stubble feels against my skin
walking together, hand in hand
i can't figure your eye color
you make my heart sing
all the nicknames you have for me
you're willing to work out the kinks in our relationship
stroking my face
'grabbing' my nose to make me laugh
whenever i catch you staring at me
you'll buy me books
talking about the future, our future
you help me with dishes, without a complaint
when you play with my hair
your fingers twitch as you drift off
always being so understanding about everything
brushing my hair out of my face
you pause your video games to talk with me
every time i hear your voice on the phone, i smile like an idiot
drying my tear-stained cheeks with your fingers
you want to talk about anything and everything
"duh"
always caring about my well-being
you see my perspective and i see yours
hugging for a long time
you want to go to church with me
knowing exactly what to say (most of the time)
you keep spoiling me, even though you joke
snuggling together
your mouth twitches before you kiss me
that soft smile you get from time to time
you've never treated me as an object
making me feeling safe and secure
whenever you compliment me
you take naps on me
letting me rest for a few minutes
you don't make sexist jokes

look how far we've come, my love
       and how far we have to go

I won't be plucking off petals from my rose
like those lovesick Romeos and Juliets on park benches.
I don't need luck and petal symmetry to believe.

I won't litter the petals
like lipstick marks or blood stains on white sheets.
I won't be placing them in a vase half full,
that's temporary.

I have a better plan in mind,
a better way to immortalize
my rose. Deep within a gift,
pressed between pages
is a symbol of your love to me.

Show her love
And treat her like a lady everyday
Make her feel special
Take her in your arms and cherish her in every way
Just cultivate her
Shower her with a tender kiss
Always keep her in your heart
In order to have a heavenly bliss

i.

Gracefully,
She tastefully-
Amazingly,
Loveth me;

ii.

Thankfully,
I'm blatantly,
Her king of
Dream's, wherein
Sparkles gleam,
And satellite
Ring's; maketh
Babies from me
And her's trail.

iii.

Europeasian braille,
For the sightless, europosia;
We teacheth those without hearing to heareth,
meladrona to those that fear, to be fearless, and bestride the pinnacle of perheava.

iv.

Blithe of the era-
That's never ending;
Eternal, amour
Unbending.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)

Dear lonely girl,

why is it that you choose to cry
about once again not having a valentine?

why does a stupid date
fueled by cheap chocolate
and ****** cards
make your very core ache?

you don't even really like flowers,
why receive a gift of something
that's overpriced and already dead?

having a valentine
would just be another broken half,
of a stalemate love.

you don't need no Romeo,
you'll both only end up dead.

it's just another day lonely girl,
another day for you to be happy
that once again, you get to live.

Love, Me
(lonely girl)

O' bygone poet's,
For where hath
Thou gone;

O' bygone poet's,
I keepeth thee alive;
In mine poetic song's.

O' archaic poet's,
Arise from thy
sepulchre;

O' archaic poet's,
Hath thou gone
Lost; massacred.



©Brandon Nagley
©lonesome poets poetry