As she rises
In the blackened sky
And the waves
Meet the shore
With a gentle sigh,
She lays a tender kiss
Of silver light
Upon ocean's breast
Of anticipating crests.
And the lovers
Are reunited.

Creeping across the ocean
Like a girl in gray silk
Stealing in after a late night,
Shoes left at the door.
Tiptoes over wooden floors.
Trailing wisps of dreams
With the lightest of kisses.

Every thing i say
Comes right back to my ear
Hearing my words bouncing off
Of an empty atmosphere

Enigmas in the wind
Can't anybody hear?
Hello, is anyone there?
Or are my words just unclear?

Each sound returning
Continuing the fear
Hollow sounds fading out
Only to disappear

Thou knowest nothing
Until thou art ready
To dieth for love;

Until then
Thou knoweth not
What love is.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Just, Why?
I over analyze simple things, hoping for a better or worse outcome…
I look for answers, where there are none.
    Question;
If the universe in infinite, why do we find so many things… A great discovery?
When we haven’t even scratched the surface!
    Maybe…
I’m on the wrong side of the universe.
So, when will others learn that up isn’t up and down isn’t down?
     My mind is so vast.
But I am young, to an untrained eye.
I’m a writer, artist, and a poet…
I have lived and died so many times.
I’m a kid.
But I feel as if I’ve lived for thousands of years-

                                                                 So many lives!

somewhere among the oaks and pines
i search, trying to find a sign
with the sight of the climbing vines
i am defined by nature's lines

the water shines my peace of mind
beside the brook, where ivy entwines
i find brightness, no longer blind
in the guiding light of God's designs

( Sonnet )*

If I should die with a shunted echo hear me,
Lost fabled one, my paltry heart the snows,
The warmth rides of the chiding winter sun,
The melody and rustling in cantata leaves,

Whose strings of one, plaintive guitar, strung
By breaths birthing breaks, your tracing lips,
White birds, water wings miraculous, not so
Stunning as your steps float above the water,

I am nothing, less, you shine pure, most of all
More than any heart could tender, how could
An empty house, abridgment only, unhinging
Doors coursing reason hold the new day sun?

As flame was my doom, love hear my thesis—
Should I die, look for me in the loom chrysalis.

To trust,
Let people in,
Relationships.
That's what he said.
That psycologist with
Grey hair
Thinning,
Just like my relationships.
Lonely, hating, loathing myself,
Pain being controlled by addictions,
Shame,
My same shame increases the circles,
Addictions,
Running circles in my head--
Wanting to draw circles with a knife.
STOP THINKING.
My circles of friends growing smaller,
Isolate as the weather becomes cold,
My heart, iced, caged,
No trust, no love.
No one could love me anyway.
Right?
Wrong way thinking through this thick head
Makes it worse.
Wearing through my thin soul,
This pain, pleasure?
No. Run run away from this,
Soles of my shoes thining,
Just like the grey hair--
The psychologist's head.
Trust, love, relationships.
No shame in mistakes.
Let people in?

I always thought I never needed that.