Mine lily of the valley, mine lotus of the unrestrained.
Mine Senna alata, mine allay of human angst;
Mine Kalinaw in mine Stygian juncture's,
Mine Kaulayaw aloft the extraterrestrial
Structures.                          Mine Paraluman that giveth me these word's to writeth, the one that bringeth me excite;
In mine core thou art invited.
Mine Kundiman by which I replay in this skull,
Mine hand of time, mine angelic mind-
That I do learn from.
Mine Makisig precious stone, undug from the clay,
Mine, all mine, I canst sayest it all day.
Mine past, present, future; woman of now, forever's our's
Mine Jane. O' how Dalisay, O' how Dalisay, doth ourn water run sparkling; Only because mine love, we sip it as queen and king. One time soon, to shareth wedded ring's, wherein the pain's of the now; art gone and unforseen.


©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry'
©Earl jane sardua Nagley ( àgapi mou) dedicated

i.

O' daughter of God
Queen of faraway
Azure; embraced
tis I am by thy
Love, Into
Heaven
Is thy
Door.

©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane Nagley

i.

Michar, Oer'***-
Lavokri, proment;

ii.

Pravickle gla shoviet
Shoviet crunce du;
zeftar mun acopolli,
vas dae ba-la shu.

iii.

Marantash sodetti
Grasvantas, blinta
Yeshatari klevo's.


©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane sardua Nagley ( àgapi mou) dedicated






You must read bottom while reading poem for words meanings.
Thanks Brandon. And to all my readers thank you dearly for your support! I thank all of you for your support and kindness and love. Your fellow poet
Brandon Cory Nagley.....

i.

I thank thee Almighty, for the pulchritude of the blue,
Thou hath rendered me with a woman, a gentle darling
Of Asia's moon.

ii.

I thank thee O' father, for the firmament child, thou hast
Been merciful to me, with a queen of coastline wild's;
As I buss her in only sleep, I looketh forward to ourn coming,
Knowing one day we shalt walk hand in hand-
Face to face, glory stunning.

iii.

I thank thee O' Theos, omnipotent upon thy throne, to praise do I giveth thee, engineer of flesh and bone; thou hast made mine bed in heaven, and on Earth Jane mine abode, thou hast given me an offering, a soulmate to mine soul, How more than satisfied I am-
To calleth her mine sweet, O' Yahweh do I setteth mine life down upon thy feet.


©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane Nagley ( àgapi mou) dedicated

How dare he even try
To come back into her life
After he ripped her apart
every
Single
Part
Shredded her to bits
Every
Single
Inch
Picked at the seams
And didn't care for her screams
Layed her in hell
Broke his own spell
So please tell me how
Tell me why now?
After she's put her self all back together.
He left her before
Please shut the **** door
He doesn't belive in forever
She remembers his name
She's forgetting his game
Her heart is a hopeful romantic
Lock it up twice
He's got the same vice
He's using his regular semantics
Shut the door
Hit the floor
Go far away fast
Remember the past
He's a game of fire at best.
You'll get burned
Back in hell
He does it so well
Save yourself while you still can.

What is to come? 

From a world where our children are given guns to play with, 

It’s not the squirting of water,or release of plastic bullets, it’s the message we shoot into their heads .

Triggering violence from adolescence.
Planting seeds of hate,
And watering them with spilled blood .

Waiting for the fruit to ripen, but it never does,

Now we have the taste of bitterness lingering on our mouths.

That bitterness stays on our tongues ,
So that when we speak, that’s all that comes out.

You see Somehow the fruit is never as sweet as when it’s forbidden.

Sugared by sin,

Borrowed from thy neighbor, because when it’s sin there’s always enough to go around.

What is to come?

From a world where we are told to express ourselves , but within the guidelines.

Told that the world is your canvas , but restricted to only the color white.

It isn’t as pure as it seems.

Underneath the white paint lies splashes of read , gushing from a black body.

There is no canvas, all we are given is a painted picture, of what perfect looks like.

So that we Erase anything that doesn’t fit the image. 

The slightest difference is reason for war.

Be it the quantity of melanin

Be it religion

Be it Gender.

What is to come?

Of a world that is only tolerable through the shade of intoxication .
Where pills serve as capsules of happiness 

We are our biggest enemy,

Our pain is self inflected.
If this is what it is ,to be human 

What is the cure?

My father would read between the lines
To find a comfortable place to exist
His words were veiled by a velvet cloak
Understatements wrapped neatly in their over-thinking

He would wince in pain as sharp gravel
Would impale his cold calloused feet
The road was unenviable in its condition
Yet he never left the discomfort of the ground

He had no proclivity to shepherd my path
He would let me stumble and crash over my own roots
So I took my time and I kept my distance
For his battered body was foreign to my eyes

He would drift out of sight, out of mind
But out of heart was a different story
As all the shoal and sand settled down around him
He remained governed by a far different wave

Please don't be pretty,
please don't be pretty,
please don't be pretty,
please don't be pretty* . . .

Hi, it's so nice to meet you.

*Ah ****.