I'm
  f
   a
     l
      l
        i
          n
            g
asleep.

Your
arm
  b
    e
      n
         e
           a
             t
               h
me.

Your
voice
  m
     e
       l
         t
           s
me.

Your
love
  s
   u
     r
       r
         o
            n
              d
                 s
me.

I'm
  h
     a
       p
         p
           y.

For
now.

Beloved of the sultry ness,
Half wight, fully light;
dayspring of the morn.

Heaven's spark at night;
Mine rainbow in
Fiersome storms.

Bedight me with thy
Comfort, quench me
In the dusk, lancinate
This anxious soul,
Kiss me with a
Hush.

Quiet i'll stay,
I'll sit quite still;
To put mine soul
Inside thee, struck
By love so real.


©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poets poetry
©earl jane nagley dedication.

I'm just a strange man
Who wants to hold
The finest rose in
The world;
Mine Jane.........
Mine soulmate..........

Mine girl-

I'm just a young lad,
With his head inside
A darkened bag,
Waiting for his
Queen's dear
Breath and kiss to poke holes of air
Into the layers of heaven's
Perfectness.

Because perfect, verily she is
To me, a flawless gem
Of many sea's.

Mine taste-buds bubble with
Seed's, wanting her lipstick;
Candy flavor.

This is mine love-
Written down on paper;
O' how I need her vapor----
Istic touch, her soul I feel,
A vital must.

Love her, I do
Love her
So much;

Love her so much.
Love her so much............


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedicated ( agapi mou dedicated)

I don't want to drink again
No, not from those lips
That tiny bottle of pending doom with little tiny labels marked warning.
Under the table, grabbing walls
Compensation for the shot glass full of stained breath
There is no amount of emotional comfort that doesn't lead to physical contact.
My lips; your essence
There isn't a support group that can teach that
The urge to resist the glare of the bottle
Simple steps that lead to complete disaster
The calling of your name
The way you splash against my lips.
I don't want to drink again
My bad habit
My secret craving
A distinct hint that I need you again.
Where's pride in this infatuation
The need to have you again
This uncontrollable substance
Marked with warning labels
Bottled emotion that seeps at anytime.
The need of not caring who's around.
Again, pride where are you

When my head is pounding & my heart is throbbing,
when it seems like a good idea to drink my sorrows away till the next morning.
When the constant pain just starts to get worse every time you cross my mind.
It’s not midnight sadness anymore,
it’s morning & afternoon sadness that i can never get over.
You were my anti-depressant & now that you are gone
I crave you more than anything & i’m sadder than I ever were.

i still smoke out of your bowl
i like to pretend i can taste you on it
even though i've cleaned it twice
all the time i get lit
to make my mind feel nice
cuz thoughts of you echo
throughout my whole body
i feel you in my blood stream
it makes me wanna scream
but your magic bowl fixes all

wow
guess i'm relying on you still
gotta get my fill
you've made me so ill
brain cells killed
i don't want to feel.

They say that with time it gets easier.
But it never did.
We just get used to the pain.
Like we get used to the smells of our house,
and only recognize the smell after
we have gone away.
I have gotten used to missing you.
So much that one day I fear I will
not miss you at all.
You are the smell of my house,
and I am not home.