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Faris Fakhreldin Nov 2015
Tick, tock.
  Tick            ,              tock.
I heard the inner clock
  of the world slowing down
  and I waited like a rock,
  holding my holy ground.

A life time had passed
and the million stars had died
in the horizon; inevitably
their light will fade,
but I, I would still wait.

Finally, beyond the end of the world,
across the oceans, she came
and, for her, every wave stood still, bowing,
unbroken like frozen flames.
Glory upon glory, even the roaring thunder was
shouting her name,
fire of red and blue, and lightning the view on
that timeless frame!

I stood amazed, marveled,
and at awe, watching the
landscape burning with
infinite lights of glory,
as if the whole universe is
  trying to tell me her story.

And there she stood,
in her divine form.
All around me,
the air grew colder,
and yet, I felt warm.
For her eyes were
    f                                      
l                          
a                
u    
        n
                    t            
i    
n                
g                                
as a phoenix’s fire.
She raised the hearts
of men; taking them higher.

Suddenly,
I knelt before her
unmoved like a stone.
I was driven by a will,
but it wasn’t my own.

She came closer, and closer
still, till I noticed the strangest
shadow she had, it
was shaped in white.
She was warm, even warmer
was her touch,
my eyes closed tight.
She was bright, even brighter
than before, as
white flashes of light,
but when I opened my eyes,
and looked all around
she was out of sight!
These days,  

I
f  e  e  l
h      e      r
e  x  i  s  t  e  n  c  e,
e  v  e  r  y  w  h  e  r  e,
I see pieces of her presence,
scattered in the earths and heavens,  
roots and summits, fountains and
mountains.

My whole perception of heaven and hell has been altered.
For in that eternal moment, I could feel the fire in her eyes, so warm, so kind, and so
sweet.
I could tell there is no hell underground, only heaven beneath her
feet.

Her graceful spirit resembles the wings of a dove,
that’s why I colored her face on white clouds of love.
She’s the ultimate manifestation of an
angel
sent from
  above.  

Look,
her graceful spirit is like no other.
She's an angel that I call my mother.
PoorLionNotKing Nov 2015
Hello Angel what should I do
with this old faded soul?
My blood breaks apart in my reflection
and my dream cracks across the floor.
Your wings slither past the sky
down toward heaven’s broken heart.

Hello Demon who should I lose
from my collection of old faces?
My past scars my heart
a damaged clock in my every thought.
It can be hard to understand
that burning is always worst alone.

Hello Man where should I go
past the stars of my drifting mind?
Love’s hope left to bloom
dancing across every second chance.
I’m left wondering about tomorrow
and the lies you will bring.

Hello Woman who should I be
among the shadow’s heart?
Can we seek a knight’s love
as our blade’s tremble in the flame.
With the dragon that guards the night
and cracks among your soul.

Hello God what should I fight,
what victory is worth the pain?
How much can we pay
for the life we disregard?
When you're lost to the ghost
who died so you could live.

Hello Brain what do we fear,
but death’s morning rise?
The sleeper’s curse too often denied
when we call upon our graves.
The stars always stir inside
when you hear the devil’s lullaby.
I remember quite distinctly
The night the Angel came
Hovering above my field
And calling me by name

Fred, the Angel yelled to me
Waking all my sheep
I yelled "you stupid ****** twit"
I've just got them to sleep

He said a king was born to man
And I must go to see
I said, "I've got these bleating sheep"
I don't do this for free

The angel said follow the star
All the way to Bethlehem
I told him, you must be ****** daft
My next shift starts at ten

I've been around the world a bit
And I've seen a lot of stunts
But this angel hung right in the air
And his wings did not flap once

He said there is a child
And he will be the King of Kings
I didn't really listen much
I was still watching those **** wings

The sheep were going batty
The field was bight as bright could be
I said, of all the shepherds round here
Why did you come wake me?

He said to travel swiftly
And to follow yonder star
I said, I'm off to bed mate
I'm not going on that far

Then there came a bolt of lightning
He had barbecued a ewe
I thought this bird means business
I mean just what could I do?

I left my flock with Charlie
The shepherd two fields over one
And I said I'll be back soon mate
I'm off to see the holy son

I met up with some others
All of us had the same tale
Of an angel flinging lightning
So we all felt we best bail....

I got there in December
I'd been travelling for months
The only thing I thought of
Those wings...did not move once

There inside a manger
behind an inn...full up each day
Was where I saw a vision
I'll remember to my last day

Three wise men dressed in robements
A little kid, and his tin drum
Some donkeys and a camel
The baby Jesus and his mum

Dad, was in the corner
All alone hanging his head
He said "How could this have happened"
"I never left the bed"

I looked upon the baby
And I looked down upon that face
He looked at me and smiled
You could feel a state of grace

I really didn't know then
What I was here to do
But, now I know my task was
To tell everyone I knew

So, I started out on homeward
To tell old Charlie of the kid
I picked him up a present
Yep..that's exactly  what I did

I guess the world must owe me
and this I 'll stand and shout
You could consider my gift to Charlie
Was the first true  gift given out

Now, I sit and watch the sheep here
People come up just to see
The shepherd who started gifting
The shepherd...that is me!!!
brandon nagley Nov 2015
i.

Mine Filipino rose beckoned me
Cometh up hither;
She bedecked her head
In oriental feather's.

ii.

She cut mine chain's
When once was tethered;
She entered mine brain
With sunshined weather.

iii.

Her countenance
Flew me on chariot letter's;
With romance open
Thus mine world turned better.





©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication-filipino rose
bedecked means adorned.... In archaic terms...
sage short Nov 2015
the Heaven's met an angel
named love
he had bright hazel eyes
and a smile sparkling
as a star
his hands were pale as snow
but warm like the blanket
his love wraped me in
the Heaven's met an angel
named love
he read my poems
and they provoked emotions,
raw,
his love
the Heaven's met an angel
named love
and he will never die
his passion will live
through my veins
even if he leaves
to go somewhere
where angels go
the Heaven's met an angel
named love
and I'm glad he's lived
in my bones
and soared through the pits of
Hell---I call myself
and the Heaven is me
the Heaven's met an angel
named love
and they loved
Silencer Nov 2015
SHE
She is a mystery
She is.. the greatest form of poetry
She, who would rather hide than be seen
Holds no beginning and knows no end
She comes to life when everything around her appears to be dead
She makes me feel a high, electric, body rush
She creates goosebumps down my spine with just the slightest touch
She dreams
She believes
She is someone you can't decieve
She sees the lies, beneath your eyes
She is someone you can't run from or can't hide
She is the never ending memory that takes refuge inside my mind at night
She is gold
She is light that fills my soul
She is peace that keeps me in control
She is gentle
Her body is a temple
Mounted on the highest pedestal
Without reason to ever feel resentful
When I'm high
When I'm coming down
When I'm feeling sentimental
She is there
She is pure
She is rare
She is someone for whom I will always care
And through it all
She just might
She just maybe
                              
                              *The One
A transition from a previous poem of mine.  'The One'
My greatest unfound hope.
BSeuss Nov 2015
She stared at me with the devils horns in her eyes,
that I didn't see due to the blinding love in my heart.
The hands of hers I took to be angel wings were truly
the talons of a malevolent creature. And within the
moment she appeared into my life, she faded into
the shaded night. With my souls blood on her teeth.
Seeking, ever so scarcely, for her next victim. To be
trapped by the hymn she sings.
sometimes what you wish for the most comes to you in the love of a person. but the devil is disguised as this person.
Sorrow Cain Nov 2015
[ ]
Gazing into summer nights,
Sleeping under city lights.
Wishing on a star so bright,
To get the wish I wish tonight.

Wish to be, woe behold,
An angel with a heart of gold.
Who, for those with broken souls,
Paints their smiles, and fills their holes.
No idea what this is
MsAmendable Nov 2015
Breath froths thick from my lips
Like cotton,
Drawn out into the thin autumn air
Forming gusty halos,
Wreaths of white,
Cheeks and nose pinken
From the crystal kisses
Placed gently like angel wings
Tingling with magic
In frosty air
brandon nagley Nov 2015
I traveled seeking otherworldly unknown spiritual erudition,
Twilight was approaching, the village was illuminated; by lit face's and fiery pit's.

Shamanic foot pounding dug into the ancient soil, visages were daubed by psychedelic mirages; as embers flew from the state of consciousness matched.  As tis these wild child's wore feather's as   celestial hat's.

Chant's of healing echoed the earth, an old man with a map drawn on his countenance, and in the palm of his hand's. Stood crooked, spine shifted; with a feather inked with wisdom as the quill's were year's of time's past.

His peeper's as Sunshined glass, aged and freed, he was around the birth age of at least eighty-three; he's lived many form's back before time, before me and thee, he told me " Brandon, I've been waiting for thyself to be seen.

As tis I kneweth a messenger hadst guided me there, I was standing in the shaman's presence, as the plume's covered his hair; he kneweth I needed soul-retrieval, his grin bounced the air.

He brought me into his Wigwam, as tis I felt the demon's inside me, his singing smoked under his breath; verily a man of astral tithing, I passed out from the beastly being's biting.

Mine apparition hadst left me, I was aloft weightless over mine body, I felt as if I died, none more pride or lifes prizing. The medicine man tranced, none need for him to digest any elixers, he's been doing this for centuries, he was a past angel and spirit mixture.

I hath seen mine life's picture, just up high in the cloud's, mine aura climbed atop the great mountain, I didst not want to cometh down; I was watching this tan-skinned tribal just below mine sight; he danced, tranced, danced throughout the night.

Then at the ending before I awoketh, I stared the demon's coming out of me, as tis their infectious breathing got me choking, I pushed out all the thing's trying to latch onto mine burning light inside me, the hellion loveth good soul's, to Satan that's control: anything good is open to their inviting.

I opened mine vision, when the death-bringers left, a holy Bible was placed upon mine chest; as tis the shaman told me his Secretive gift and holiness: he told me Christ he turned to many kingdom's ago, once back when, when he was working as God's angel.

As when I left that small earthly hut of his, he started singing Christian proverb's; reciting Christian hymn's, he wasn't thy average medicine man, he kneweth truth, not fable's nor myth's; before I left he painted mine head with a cross for protective bliss. As whilst at that moment in time, the devil stayed away from mine mind, Satan's chain's wouldst be waiting for him in the brimstone abyss.




©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
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