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i.

She's the finest
Filipino rose;
As tis as tis,
I loveth to watch her petals shine.

ii.

She's the kindest,
Gentlest soul;
As tis she is
Divine;

iii.

She's the sweetest
Nectar of honey;
O' I'm blessed
With a inamorata of plenty.

iv.

She's mine heaven
Mine earth, and the moon;
She's the life, verily mine wife,
Who awokest me from mine tomb.





©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane sardua Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Man hast sought, and wilt seeketh,
Supernal treasure's until the
End of their day's;

I hath found the jewel
They seeketh; not wrought
By men's hand's, nor stored in some cave.

She's mine, all mine
So beast's goeth away;
She's mine, O' mine
rapturous hooray!!!



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
 Dec 2015 Natalia mushara
ryn
.
O                                                                                  
•• i really don't see the need to                                
•• dictate•the way the dishes are                           
•• sorted in order in the sink •i                              
•• don't see the point in being                                
   •• irate• if the door creaks when you try to think•
    •• i can't tell apart between emotions you feel•sad-
   •• ness and disappointment, they look the same to
   •• me•i do not care  if it's mauve or teal•for good-
    •• ness sake, the  cushions...,  they look fine to me!!
    •• •well, i now wave my white flag and surrender
     ••                             • because all these  differences...
     ••                           don't matter at all•just know that
     ••                          i have sworn to love you forever•
••                                                      ­                          
••                                                              ­                  
••                                                              ­                  
••                                                              ­                  
••                                                              ­                  
                                        *even if you drive me insane
                                        and up the wall•
Concrete Poem 19 of 30

Tap on the hashtag "30daysofconcrete" below to view more offerings in the series. :)
.
i.

The governmental beast's
Plotteth right before thine sight;
As many art blinded
By the lies put in the night.

ii.

Making many believeth
Through their media puppet's;
Whilst big elite pulleth thy string's
Secret society member's push it.

iii.

Illuminati, Bilderberg's,
Skull and bones, some unknown;
Now spotlighted, being known
Martial law, to break thy home's.

iv.

All for greed, their new world order,
United Nations vehicles parked
In California; train's with guillotine's
Thirty-thousand that is,
Whilst the young protest
Ignorant bullsh....
Freedom's being taken
Before thy eye's,
It started by the taking
Of the natives land;
European suicide.
Blood shalt be spilt
In the land of the high
Because of the filth
Of rich men's ties;

v.

Rockefeller called it
Whilst Rothschild named it;
Henry Kissinger indugled it
Bush. Sr didst inflame it.
Training going on
Worldwide for this,
A complete takeover
An r.f.i.d chip.
A tracking device
For the forehead and hand;
Revelation thirteen dear poet, poetess, and man.
Revelation stated; (And he had power to give life unto the image of the beast, that the image of the beast should both speak, and cause that as many as would not worship the image of the beast should be killed.) Didst thou readeth that? Didst not get enough fill? Also goeth this. Revelation,
16And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads: 17And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name. 18Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six.
Readeth this again, no man may buyeth nor sell without the mark of this devil tempted man;
Already into act into Mr. Obama's healthcare law,
Bilderberg's saidst by the year two-thousand and seventeen they want their chip Into all,
Signs art showing, were coming to a close,
Awaketh to Christ's truth and his love Utmost.
Christ spoke: I am the way, truth and the life, no man
Cometh to the father but by ( me) Jesus that is the Lord and the king,whilst other's art found in tomb's- Christ hath holes in his hand's and his feet, millions of near death experiences- with only jesus didst they meet. Awaketh mine poet's, get out of slumber, An Antichrist is upon us, the demon's knoweth their day's art numbered. Taketh a look around: demonic influence. Satan's got a short time to killeth, And surely he wilt do it. A prominent Jewish Rabbi is telling his people in Israel he believed their Messiah is here, so art the Muslim leader's, what's wrong? Not clear? Them telling other's they believeth their Messiah soon shalt appear, just means the antichrist wilt show, and a Tribulation's near. Awaketh from slumber I telleth once again, these book's of Christ weren't a play or a myth for pretend. The heaven's art moaning, the earth tis in travail, prophecies hath come true as more art daily neath the veil. Many by the million's art having dream's of his return, please no comment needed if it's for making fun of or scorn, tis I want none to mourn but to open their sight's to truth. Be aware, payeth attention to that thing we calleth the news. Find Christ, if thou hath not, if so cometh back to him, I sayeth this as a warning. Poetess, poet's, beautiful friends...... For God is a loving God, waiting for thee and me to return, a new age of the slave, is waiting for it's turn.......




©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
In the book of Romans in the bible is states
Whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord ( jesus) thou shall be saved... If not saved I suggest the sinner's prayer to Christ and to truly trust him.... And be saved in Christ... For he is loving and forgiving though will you choose him or the world and the things of the world where you will have no peace nor rest? Up to you poet....
Shadowic heroic ornamental's, false breed's cometh as incense breather's betwixt lively instrumental's. Macrogram plaza's to abrahamic venue's. Caller's calleth upon themselves to saveth what is not theirs;

Morning breath, to winter's dew, hath thou been born yet? Is the baby yet due?

Constant pain's to loss taken gain's maketh brain's and vein's out of organically made flesh; becometh thine own creator, thou creed of selfishness. Anchor heavy soul dragged away by chain's of past forget-not's, wherein the ground stayeth hot to ruin moronic window's.

Maketh thy bed of silvered spring's thy own rusted medieval pillow; thou grand ol' operatic theme, thou patriarch to a dream,  Art ourn day's but a whisp of a second's last?

Thing's hath cometh to the listening one, the earth's spinning to fast; the mechanism's now begun.


©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Prison writing's
Galileo couldst not even seeith
The heaven that lieth
Inside queen Jane;

Einstein couldst not even dreameth
The beauty
Inside of her brain;

Edwin Hubble lived inside
Of a bubble, being blinded
From her view;

Stephen hawking, forget thine
Scientific talking; mine empress
Is from God, a divine muse.

Isaac Newton, recalculate thine
Mathematic's; mine amour' is not a number,
Awakest from slumber, sweet Jane is aromatic.




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