I don't understand..
Why does the person
and the people who
helped them mess
with my mind...
get to be happy with
their significant other?
When is karma going
to get them?
Honestly, I'm just lucky
I have as much
patience as I do.

i.

Betwixt the rice paddies
And the mountain's of green;
Walk's mine soulmate,
Philippines queen.

ii.

Her breath
The cloud's, billows the air;
Her graceful step's,
Stride with her hair.

iii.

O' how I wish, I couldst
Fly through the air;
I'm trapped in the flesh,
I want to be there.

iv.

I want to be there
To sink in the sea;
Sing Jane a lullaby,
Yet seems as a dream.

v.

Though verily I love her,
certes, her blood do I bleed;
Her hand do I need
To comfort mine
Own.



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

One day
It'll just be Sunday morning pancakes
Church with our friends
Cleaning the house with the windows open
Music shaking the rafters in our ceiling
We'll make dinner together
You'll kiss me til your lips are raw
And we'll laugh until we cry and make love until bed

One day
It'll just be Monday morning coffee
We'll stay in bed just a little longer
Crack the window to smell the rain
I'll make your lunch and kiss you a million times goodbye
Off to school I'll go, little preschool voices, little fingers wave "Hi"
Dinner will be waiting for you
Plate warm, warm welcome
We'll eat and laugh and make love

One day
It'll just be Wednesday evenings together
Doing homework, working late
Your eyes droopy, smile goofy
Giggling sleep away
Falling asleep at your desk
I drag you to bed
And stroke away the day with my fingertips

One day
It'll just be Friday night with us
We'll get Mongolian, we'll see a movie
You smile at me when the lights go down
And squeeze my hand tighter
Popcorn fingers
Sneaking little kisses in the dark
And you make love to me when we get home

One day
It'll just be Saturday mornings, slow
Sleep in late, wake up happy
While we try and get some work done
In between calculator buttons and pencil strokes
You ****** me, again and again
And our work gets postponed over and over
One person
One marriage
One life
One day

It'll just be Sunday morning pancakes
Forever

Smoking a cigarette with the Schizophrenic Socrates.

He tells me I'm being childish; young.

Few ways past that-- and good!

Growth!, Growth!, Natural growth!

Childishness and impish hormones--such inspirations!

Motivations until the paling end!

How stupid, how dumb,

How backwards I had it then-- Good!

A new lesson flourishing!

Sad destruction by his standards; perspective!

New reasons to speak, finding reason to grow!

Groom! Growth! Groom!

Loudness and disorder, Anarchy! Freedom!

Freedom of tongue and mind! Broken back, broken arms, broken neck! Purpose!

Loitering and loathing! End your voyage laughing!

Curiosity has been struck, tell them to be young, tell them to be middle aged, and old, dead! Immortal!

The observation of self must continue past myself!

Study me!

Study yourself!

Always!

I'm learning to play the harp.
To punish my fingers for making the sky crack it's knuckles.
Bending love like a tiny offering to the broken.
Sneaking in their ears & whispering hope.
Not while they're sleeping but wide awake eyes shut.
Sweet tears are made for baking. Patience is preheating & love is the icing I will cover you with.
This world did not make us.
So when the worlds fire approaches let us stand as the 3hebrew boys did.
If he allows it to touch us it is only to bake us beautiful.

I've missed you
From the ripples of your voice buried under the tidal waves of the concrete jungle
I've missed you
From the oceanic drifts of desire that wades in the pool of mad passion
I've missed you
From the piles of the unsaid lines of scripted words which were not meant to be uttered
Where it shall be silent,
And I will still be waiting
To have missed you.

I've always been
the impatient kind,
but for you,
I'd wait a lifetime.