I've read so many things to try to comprehend the way I'm feeling.
Years of research.
Decades of those prior to me.
This extraterrestrial rush of chemicals flowing from different parts of my brain
It doesn't feel right.
I hate it.
I am concrete.
Earth.
Grounded.
Why must these things keep trying to pull me away from the soil in which I was born from and will return to?
From dust to dust.
Ashes to ashes.
I can't fall down.

Everything is ephemeral.
Me.
These figments of my imagination that claw away at me.
These thoughts that keep whirring,
grinding the gears inside the factories polluting even the most miniscule crevices of my mind.
But this is slowly warping my earth
My dust
My ashes
To mud.
Water.
Air.
The molecules change.
Atoms vibrate sporadically.

Dust to dust.
Ashes to ashes.
Fall down.

Granddaughter Lucy wrote this just before bedtime this evening.
----------------------------
Dear God
Thank you for this day. Make sure that evrybuty is safe and has a good night and try not to let enebody sin. In God name we pray. Amen.
-----------------------
She gave it to me at bed time. She was asleep before I got it typed in. She Is a first grader.

somewhere between Nashville and the bayou,
the question, and the answer , are painted
on mile markers
along I-20
deep in once Cherokee country...

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

She kisses the boys and girls
that pay the most attention.
The boys play with vapor
and her girls play with tension.
I wish I was the only one
that she will decide to touch
but I am who I am
and, in a way, that is too much.

Sawblade-sunflower petals
wrap around an earthy cushion,
and the humidity hangs in the air
as her beige body is crumpled
and I feel too sober, pushing.

Baby yellow falls apart,
in her hair the flower starts
to trickle onto sheet and pillow,
decorating the absences
that define how hollow
she and I have felt before --
******* like an endangered species
on the killing floor, I whisper once,
I whisper sweet, "Don't you wish
that we didn't meet?"

She kisses the boys and girls
that give the most attention.
I played with vapor
and she played with tension.

All I ever wanted was for mommy to say she loved her little boy. To say "I'm proud of you". To look at me without shame. All I ever lived for was to prove my worth to her. To have her recognize me, to say "I love you". To hug me so the demons flee. All I ever longed for, was for a mother. To hold me and say " Don't worry, everything will be OK". Instead, all I've ever received was cold 'love'. I received lonely birthdays, followed by insults and comparison of my younger blood. All I ever received was beatings and rage. The bottle claimed her just as the blade claimed me. All I received was isolation. All I feel now is rage. Rage to her, rage to the world for abandoning me. Rage to my friends for having love, hating then secretly because they're not alone in the middle of a crowd. All I feel is apathy, an indifference to a life that's been unkind to me. I didn't ask to be the monster, so why do they complain when I show all I know? I am just a simple product of society's rejects. All I ever dreamed for, all I ever prayed for, all I ever hoped for, was just to not be alone. But that's all I got, it's all I know.