She thought her son would be visiting today. Guess Not

Its funny,
you calling me
“good girl.”

Hands running
down my thighs
and
your lips
leaving saliva,
sticky little white lies.

My back arched
and my eyes closed,
pretending.

I’m this
******
up
feminist.

But tell me,
what to do
when you assume
because we kiss
your hands
have any place
on MY body.

And tell me how,
you wish
for me
to be
your'
“good girl”
when you have yet
to ask
if it’s okay
that you are already
sticking your fingers
inside of me.

At the club
Dancing away
Smoke
In my lungs
Losing my mind
So many thoughts jumbles up in my head.
Why am I like this??
Oh yeah...
Cause your ****** up mind,
messed with mine

Today a man told a **** joke.
Everyone laughed.
I stood there and thought about it for a moment
And then I asked,
"What is funny about that?"
The laughter stopped
and they stood there in silence.
The momentary silence of shattered illusions,
There was no answer
Because it wasn't funny
So why laugh?

(Greek translation \version)
i.

Ischyró, sígoura
tha aposvestoún
pétra.

ii.
Parelthóntos, en afthonía,
lefkí stefáni tou
xediplotheí.

iii.

paratiritís kípou
Pýli tou katóchou;
Chrónos ágnosto.

iv.

Ékti aísthisi, Pra shatrent,
Eyne tis astrapís;
theóstaltos.

v.

Ái tis pragmatikó, ái
tis símaine. Pántote
i feeleth; zontanós
kai to periechómeno.


(English translation)
i.

Puissant, certes
whittled on
stone.

ii.

Yore, galore,
white corolla's
unfold.

iii.

Garden watcher's
Gate keeper's;
Time unknown.

iv.

Sixth sense, Pra shatrent,
eyne of lightning;
heavensent.

v.

Aye tis real, Aye
tis meant. Aye
i feeleth; alive
and content.

©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou)

He sat watching as the love dripped out of her,
like broth dribbling off the spoon back into the bowl;
each drop of pho causing ripples of warmth.

He wished to plunge deep inside of her soul,
to penetrate her mind and pause briefly, but
long enough to see how much love remained.

He watched as her hands became a swarm of bees,
her brown eyes turning to fire as she spoke,
and in this moment she was still beautiful.

His heart writhed while slowly realizing that,
it doesn't matter how much you love someone.
Sometimes love just isn't nearly enough.

sitting back and relaxing,
turing the screen on in my head,
i turn up the volume and cant hear anything,
the screen crackles to life,
where once there were colours there is now,

Black,
White,
Gray,

life passing by in a blur,
colours seeped out and washout,
peoples faces blur,
actions lost of meaning,

i tried to change the channel,
nothing happened,
stuck in a loop of the same colours,
the same meaningless expressions and actions,

life is a film meant to be enjoyed in colours and life and sounds.

im lost looking at the black and white screen.
Lost for what seems to be a life time.