Let self-esteem make you beam.
Make thick-skin your fort.
Have Belief in every dream
And hold that Positive Thought.

Paul Butters

In the pursuit of happiness I walked the roads,
I stopped at milestones, leaned on posts.

I saw a flock of birds in flight,
Rings of gold.. an orb so bright.
I looked around at mountain walls,
The raging sea, white frothy falls.
I looked up at the sky serene,
The valley lush a summer green.
Banyan trees with leaves  bedecked,
Gulmohars lined with blossoms red.

Faces walked engrossed in streets,
A touch, a nod when eyes would meet..
Saw hunger, anguish, weary eyes,
Sorrow, terror, shock, surprise,
I saw the tears of loss and grief,
Faith, resilience, resolve, belief.

I heard the laughter of a child,
I saw the magic of a smile.
A hug, a kiss, a warm caress,
A helping hand that love expressed
I felt the cord of love that binds,
Hearts across the world and time.

I found happiness in little things,
In nature that surprises springs..
His art, the colors that I saw,
That left me breathless, full of awe,
Happiness in that special touch,
In smiles, laughter, that gentle brush.
In kind words that wonders do,
In love that breathes life anew.

In all things that I could see,
I knew happiness begins with me,
Within me what I see or do,
The trail of thoughts I send to you.

And happiness is what I found,
When happiness was spread around.

essences of fire
and ice
        keep wanting
to burst out of me
it is so hard to know
where to end
how to start
           the rivulets
    the torrents
           turn them on like
                   a waterfall faucet
they are there,
the opposing elements
lurking, ready
just under surface
waiting to ooze, pour
secret inner filth
spilling endless
crusty lava
onto the naked
rough-hewn floor
along with purest
of lightbeam

hard to pinpoint
the moment
I knew I loved you
what love
is actually supposed to be
bubbling and frothing beneath
              ice floes, melting
                         hot wax sliding
                      I do not know how
                           to prevent this
          dripping exhaustion
of elongated membranes
from imploding
into the truest
form of encapsulated longing
sharpened pangs
spit-roasted
upon the fibers
of my brain, of my heart
my pain in stop starts
stop no go on
I can't take it
I want it all
can you feel me?
I want it all, I say
thrumming hotly
down
      to
           the last
wild drop
of
  eternity

There was something about the way she would close her eyes when listening to a song she liked.
It was as if she was creating a world behind her eyelids, moving along with the lilting lullabies she enjoyed so much.
When her eyes would eventually flutter open, she would try to hide it, but I would see a flash of sadness.
I was lost in her ethereal nature. Her fingers that danced through blades of grass that only she could see.
Weaving her way through shadowy trees planted in wide reaching glades.
Splashing through puddles like they were oceans and she, the storm, stirring tempests within them.
A queen, was she, crowned with clouds dictating orders to imaginary soldiers,
to save the inhabitants of the land.
Though her eyes were always seeing beautiful things, mine were only graced with her, and that was more than enough.

Lonesomeness hits after the midnight hour; as the more
Lonesome it gets sitting still
As a flower, wanting mine
Petals to be felt.

Wanting mine spirit uplifted,
Aye, mine smile to return.

Still a boy I am inside this man,
A creature who hast seen
Prison cells, where devils
Cringe and yearn.

An afterhour bard,
With a cloudy wind
Creeping betwixt his
Window pane.

me synchoreíte,
The child inside me
Is peeking once
Again.

©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poet's poetry