I practice Being Peace
out here by The Artist Colony on Hood Canal
collecting treasures and Bright Dead Things
the moon snail nesting in the Flatland  of my palm
a Gift from the Sea carried ashore
on The Torrents of Spring
it may take A Thousand Mornings
to attain a Mind of Clear Light
to transcend earthly Crime and Punishment
to consume knowledge hidden in the Weathered Pages
of this Book of Luminous Things
but I carry on - Skinny Legs and All
Burning Daylight street preaching
The Teachings of Don Juan
"looking, looking breathlessly"
for internal coherence in this
*Brave New World

i.

As she's in the land of Nod,
rustling azaleas in her
ancestral awe. She don's
the ensemble for the next
morrow.

ii.

Her body like a cradle
Rocks back and forth
As a swaddling babe;
She's musing of ourn
Meeting, and it's
Patient way's.

iii.

Tis I as well who see-
saw's in mine bed,
Pretending she is
Next to me, swaying
the thread's, peeping
out mine window,
Awaiting her wake;
Counting down the
Hour's, to seeith
Mine Angel's
Face.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( àgapi mou dedication)

i will start a bonfire
and throw in all that i've been
all that i've ever touched
with my fingertips
or with my heart,
all my clothes
and nights with no dreams
all the stars i've watched thinking of you
the moon and the rainbows too
all the beds i've made love in
all the songs i find you in
the poems i  wrote
my tears and smiles
all my soul
my eyes,
this skin you'll never touch
the way i want you to,
all my seasons
and all the years i'll have to live without you.
i'll make a bonfire
and i will throw in all i've got
all the trees
and everything surrounding me
a great bonfire, indeed
designed to put me on desolation row
for eternity.
i'll throw in all that hurts the most
except for my love for you
and a picture with your name on it
that i keep
for rainy days like these.