i.

In the chamber, acoustic amour',
Me and mine Jane, sweet Jane
Mi amour';

ii.

Aeonian existence, never to depart
Thee mine Reyna, and me thine Hari,
quintessence, perfection of heart's;

iii.

Eidolon's, Effulgent in tight-knit grace
I kiss thy forehead, before ourn slumber;
Number's hath none meaning, in God's holy place.

iv.

I'll wrap mine leg's,
Over thy hips, as mine hand
Traces thine face; leaving mine
Print's, as I commit, to
Marriage of celestial race.



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

I want my heart to be
Resplendent
As once was. I want
My
Roseate cheeks to sneak
Back out
From darkly dust.
I want someone to
Care
For
Me
To give me their life
And trust.
I want I want I want
Isn't that the human selfish game?
Yes!
We're all the same.

i.

When all else faileth
I'll be there;
When this soul shalt leaveth
I'll be there;
When thou feeleth numb
I'll be there;
When this heart succumb's
I'll be there.

ii.

When thou feeleth empty
I'll fill thee up;
When there's not plenty
I'll giveth thee all I hath left,
More than enough.

iii.

When I'm sick and anguished
I'll giveth thee mine breath's;
When I'm dying and famished
I'll bringeth life into thine chest.
When the pain's overloaded
And distance is to much;
I shalt still hold on
To think of thy touch;
When thine eyesight gets blinded
And thine hearing starts to fail,
I shalt giveth thee mine eye's
And ears to heareth,
Musical detail's; and when the thunder roll's,
And the lightning strikes the land
I'll still be waiting amour',
For those valiant wedding plan's.
Because we wilt dance
In this life and the next
Eternal soulmate's
Living eternal life's best.



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

Hearts are often broken
Because, words were never spoken
You said that you would be there
Though you never made it clear
That child needs you
You need to be able to come through
Just be there
And show that you actually care

When her soul's in pain
Verily I bleed;
Tis because we art soulmates
Soulmates indeed.




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

He didn’t love her for her body.

He loved her for the way she belted out the wrong lyrics while blasting music driving down the highway.

He loved her for the way her eyes brightened like stars on a cloudless night when she saw him.

He loved her for the way she twirled around in her pretty blue dress, barefoot on the soft grass.

He loved her for the way she fumbled over the piano keys, creating a barely recognizable melody.

He loved her for the way she woke up on an early morning, all grumpy and confused, wrapped up tight in a blanket.

He loved her for the way she splashes around in the ocean, kicking the water at him and motioning for him to join her.

He loved her for the way she loved him.

He didn’t love her for her body.

He loved her for her careless, sloppy soul.

A lunar eclipse passeth between ourn Soma's
A solar eclipse maketh glitz
On ourn lip's;
Kiss of pneuma.
                            Aforetime quietus, breathless existence
                            Now coalesced in vivacity;
                            Sculpted, in the creator's
                            spiritus.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley-filipino rose dedication





Note;
Happy four month anniversary Reyna Jane Nagley!!!!
Love you more Reyna, thank you for sticking with me the last four month's, seem's as If we've been together for lifetimes now,which verily I've known thee a lot longer than thou hath known!!!! Mas mahal kita Reyna.... For anyone who don't know what ( mas mahal kita Reyna means) it means I love you more queen.. In Filipino tongue.!!!!!! Me more queen Jane!!!! Happy 4th mine Reyna!!! Mine soulmate....

We writers are unorthodox, we writers write! We're not trapped, hidden, or stuck in some box.

We writers make history with weapons as words, or words as weapons!

We writers can create or change the times, because it is we who foresee the madness of crazy and dying.

We writers have family, or no family, were miserable, in love! Or were happy..

We writers note, record, register, list, inscribe, sign, scribble, scrawl, and pencil.

We writers are not mythical creations, we create the good and bad in history,

Just by the mark of a quill or pencil!

Thine temple is an edifice, holy, ever-reaching the overhanging of cliff's, step by step I walketh; a journey I only canst travel. Thou hast guided me on the long road's, wherein soul's get lost and caught in the world's tempting channel. O' blest refinement, God hath freed me from confinement; as the angel yea the angel he sent to me was thee;
Sanctified I am, inside of thine wing's. In commitment shalt I bring, in song's I shalt ablaze in glory with thee wherein the mind's of two shalt cling. O' mine hymn, O' mine diamond .
On a turret I shalt keepeth watch, when the round ball we loveth smoke's up thus, and drop's; beyond fear and falsehood talk's, we shalt walk in a grove,
henceforth the evil staying below, ourn cheeks, colored into snow that fall's starlit, warm-bits. Ourn finger's warm, ourn toe's kick to hot spit by the kissing over-satisfaction. Ourn coroner's laced inside with baguettes, daily deeds like seeds groweth from fountains with nets, nets to catch ourn amour' like open door's we shalt enter. Ourn heart's at the center exploding into a universal call to all other cherub's, seraph's, archangel's, stomping the scarab's. As eternity draweth us as the lost city of gold.


©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley-filipino rose dedicated

My breath is barbed;
skeletal strings shift into smoke,
drifting into the shadows
as the darkness will choke.

Pearl snow stuffs my skull;
my grandmother in an earthern womb,
sleeps under it all.
A tombstone the last thing we bought--
a report card of her life:
She is with Him in Heaven, In Paradise...
With Him, Without Pain--
is speculation but turns into thought.

The icy steps do not deter me
as I sit on the crooked concrete spine;
speaking to her, hoping the snow
does not make her cold, any more,
'I can stay a while longer...
I do not have to go home, yet.'

-

Eco-friendly light spills from under the door,
forming a pool as yellow as diseased skin.
The brass doorknob is like a girl I once loved:
******* the outside, hollow in the inside,
unable to be moved and okay with it.
Fury from a faucet fills the bathtub
and rings my ears with its intent:
to fill a void and go away when cold.

She lays in the water
the city treats better than us,
wading in a wealth of watermelon wash;
her body flushed from fading flesh,
pores swim and stretch around
cursive carvings, kissing cursed curves--
and I sit upon a bone-white curb,
stirring my finger in the soup of her day;
watching the drain ****, wondering
if she'll, too, drift away.

i.

Mine love and I art stellar,
We cometh from an open
Window; through the here-
After's crystalline propeller.

ii.

Mine lass is pure, she
Passed from an ancient
Door, one of cherubic
Amour', O' almighty
God; thou hast sent
A rod of electrical
grandeur.

iii.

Whilst the sod neath
Me and Jane's feet shalt
Cook to a swelter; and the
Globe explodes with demonic
Soul's into satanic shelter's, and
Whilst humans killeth, stealeth,
Driveth out; and thus plunder.
Me and mine consort earl-jane
Sardua-nagley, shalt be secured
And endureth, the spell that the
Globe's under.




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