Plush gadget men, strapped with rounded green circular things, pig's of high class weapon. Mustard seed, to ghastly. Their deed's ***** and satire flaming. Guillotine wagon's to be put into FEMA cache camp's, the 200 million man army to cometh, a false prophet to bloweth mind's, wherein crime wilt seemeth as a prize to the suckling babies.. Rat's and scabies to infest the white pillar mansion! **** thy cigarette's and fathom, what thy blue bowling ball couldst hath been. Calleth it greenhouse gas, I sayeth get out the gas mask's and survive the fan flying ship's!! Martial law to be given as commandment's, citizens shalt turneth ****, normal wilt be blood running down thy alleyway signs reading (STOP) the red paint to be the mark of the martyr's, desolate and slaughtered. The day wilt be shorter, as night to colden longer. Suicide vests to be strapped to the terrorist chest, as mothers turneth against brother's, and sister's against father's! Heart's wilt faulter the man's conscious thinking, the skeleton's wilt be stinking, as the maggot's of hell doth rise ... New age Rome to collapse as a domino on grandma's stove. À triumphant death, the devil wilt smile, until his days art outnumbered by the chariot riders, of Jehovah's miracle Mile..........


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Prophetic poetry

you were the last
bird of summer

the golds of the
sun melted as you flew

wrapped to an oak-washed
sky, that slowly unravelled

you were my love
and i loved you with every

soft breath of my soul.

Bangshi looked at the rolling gold before him.

Not a day would be without two square meals this year,
the surplus produce would earn him good money.

It was then his eyes fell on the thin little girl.

She belonged to somewhere else
always seeking something from the sky
showing little but her ribs jutting from dark skin
and if she ever swam her limbs in the wind
she would run up to the pond
to catch the reflections changing with the hourly light.

Her home wouldn’t see harvest this year
as her father had been ill for months
that could only mean starvation for the family.

Bangshi followed her eye to the sky
autumn blue without a speck of cloud
but for a spot of rain gathering in a corner of his eye.

What if instead of selling the surplus
he shared it with Malini’s family?

Money makes the world go round, that is sad.

She knoweth what I'm going to sayest
Before I sayest it;

She understandeth mine heart and pain
Before mine blood displayeth it;

She layeth me to sleep
When I get sleepy;

She layeth her head virtually upon mine chest
When I'm in weeping;

She Whisper's she loveth me
Before I canst speaketh it back;

When I'm on the wrong road, losing direction to mine soul,
Her and God get me back on track;

When I feeleth lonesome
She filleth up that lonesomeness;

When the anguish get's noisome
She giveth me her all, her best.

Earl Jane nagley is mine soulmate
Tis I'm more than blessed;

We art both preordained, from the beginning, eternal flame's
We art life, life is us, we art soulmates.
Indeed......

We art soulmates!!!


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication ( Filipino rose) soulmate of mine
©Hari and Reyna incorporated

~~
In the Stars Fair
Sometimes it's falling
Lost in the dark

My love,
Mingles with millions of stars
Same but hundreds of thousands of light in the line

Who are given
What I have found
But all I have taken

Among thee who am I
Even where are you
Or maybe known to me as the North Star

Lost within everyone
Beyond the known path
Apart from the light

Footprints fade out in the same path
Still spots on the shadows
Even yet it's called the galaxy
~~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen