#endtimes
The end was scheduled.
The world refused.
No thunder.
No rupture.
Only the insult of continuity ~
bread baking, clocks ticking,
the stubborn weight of air.
Belief collapsed without ceremony.
Not disproved, only exposed:
how thin the tether,
how quickly people flee the ordinary
for the narcotic of catastrophe.
This was never prophecy.
It was desperation in costume.
A hunger for the world to break
so the unbearable work of living
could be declared complete.
Nothing ended.
Nothing began.
Only another day,
and the quiet disgrace
of still being here.
Sep 25, 2025
Sep 25, 2025 at 10:32 AM UTC
I'm nostalgic for those old wars;
The coloured Roses kind,
With heroes and villains named Henry or Joe.
Wars that inspired poems about fields and bunkers.
And songs. So many catchy lilts with
Tipperary, white cliffs and battleships.
And slogans that made children want to fight
Against Loose Lips and encrypted blips on collateral damages.
I could be persuaaded to enlist,
To serve along side guys like the Duke,
And **** and **** Tojos and Huns,
While singing and dancing.
And the community. How all chipped in with the Effort.
Congealing around ***** of yarn or tinfoil... and victory gardens!
We'd be three deep on the boulevard, handing flowers to marching children on Main St.,
And the pulpits and towers exalt our efforts:
*God is with us.
Shangdi yu women tong zai.
Dieu est avec nous.
Gott ist mit uns.
Bag s nami.
Dio e con noi*.
Nobody has penned a memorable song
About Nagasaki;
We've seen some brain numbing,
Award winning pics
About Hiroshima.
We won't meet again.
I don't know when,
But how is definite.
A few big boys,
And...
Phsssszzzzzt!
How does that song go?
Dec 21, 2024
Dec 21, 2024 at 10:23 AM UTC
isn't it a pity
we're heading towards the end
there's a war without a winner
and no-one left to mend
an idea that's long been buried
by those who run the show
give peace a chance is over
a dream we'll never know
for the dreamers now are silenced
truth they can't afford
the end days set in motion
resolutions go ignored
isn't it a pity
they hurried us along
made us smart but we're not ready
now we see why that was wrong
they watch and wait and wonder
do they save or let us go
are we worth our own salvation
or do we start again...
all things come to pass
and the day will soon be here
so we smile and make our way
as if we have no fear
isn't it a pity
isn't it a shame
Jan 7, 2024
Jan 7, 2024 at 1:12 PM UTC
Too late,
Young worlds once hailed the antichrist
They lacked the wisdom of the Elders.
Hopelessness grew with the nine o'clock news,
A sense of loss engulfed us all
As young minds absorbed their own sorrow.
In denial, they turned away from reporters,
Ignoring prophets' warnings so earnestly shared.
Promises of youth now wilted like flowers,
Overwhelmed by depression, prejudice, and despair,
Ignorance reaping its harvest, foolishness prevailing.
Excuses abound for the impending end,
Armageddon looms ever closer, a palpable dread.
Those in power claimed education as the key,
Yet young worlds remain oblivious
To the truth that life and wealth elude man's currency.
Youthful souls trapped behind a glass facade,
Enslaved by the pressures of socializing,
The fear of loneliness infecting their minds like a virus.
The privileged dictate what is just and fair,
Defining good and evil to keep young worlds in check,
But the cycle remains unbroken, perpetuating injustice.
Amidst the clamor for gender equality they proclaim,
The clock relentlessly ticks, time slipping away,
While our guiding force watches from above.
Jul 22, 2019
Jul 22, 2019 at 8:51 AM UTC
Children of Louisiana,
Swept away and drowned,
In the river’s flood
And the ocean surge.
Never have recovered
Fully from the rain falling down,
And of a city that was purged.
Ignored by the government
And its fellow man,
Follow in a long line of sufferers
Since the melting, ice age glaciers
And even a tsunami in the North Sea
That wiped out Doggerland.
Dark Ages got darker as people ran
And Britain’s white cliffs were sheared.
Times got better and then got worse,
But the people carried on.
Now, the floods are a weekly thing,
A blip on a newscast,
As lost as the victims in a mess
Of other disasters,
Of wildfires, droughts and don’t
Even mention the quaking earth
Or volcanoes! We can’t take credit
For causing those!
Rich men in their castles,
Feasting and clapping each other
On their fatty backs,
Rolling in the spoils and spills
Of oil, on the flaming water of
The American plains.
Sheikhs in old Mesopotamia
Whine about oil pipelines,
Promised to them by President Cheney,
While the people starve.
Bloated oligarchs spread destruction
All over the world, from
The Congo to Chernobyl,
Melting icecaps and raising the sea,
Sinking islands where they don’t live,
Vacationing in the Maldives,
On special rates before those go under.
They won’t fix Miami, but let it sink,
But not before they plunder
The empty towers built on foolish dreams.
Of course, they’ll be the last to go,
Crammed into mansions up in the Alps,
Fighting with the European nobles
Over who gets a crumbling palace
Now sitting on the last ice floe.
A few American cousins round each other up
To catch the Dixie Flyer down to New Orleans,
Trying to hide from the polar vortex,
A dazzling case of ignorance and greed,
Only to find the tracks buried in the sea…
Down in the mud of the deep, brown sea.
Mar 10, 2021
Mar 10, 2021 at 4:26 PM UTC
Do or don't?
Just get it done!
Cause I don't wanna be
The only one
Left behind
The task at hand?
It is what God demands
Cause He doesn't want me
To be
The only one
Left behind
Will I succeed?
I am sure indeed
Cause it's the Lord's will
It is what He does need
The assurance for me
That I won't be
Left behind
Halt no more?
Of this I am sure
Cause if I do not
My spirit will rot
Then I will find
Myself
Left behind
Out of time
With no reason or ryhme?
Cause if so,
I'm not worth a dime
If I wind up being
The only one left behind
Spiritual warfare?
There's a battle at hand
To warn all the others
An honor so grand
Cause all of us know
We prefer
Not to be ******
Its time to go
And all of us know
Cause its time to change direction
And don't go with the flow
So take up your paddles
And vigorously row
Row and row
And take part in the grind
And in due time
You will find
Yourselves
Not left behind
Tis my warning
My warning for all of you
Cause the time is coming
I know this to be true
The time for each and every
One of us to find
Which ones will be left
The ones left behind
Dec 11, 2020
Dec 11, 2020 at 3:45 PM UTC
Looting. Burning.
Building's fire.
They rob and mob.
They do not tire.
Some are anarchists.
Some for hire.
The TV blasts. It is a liar.
An airplane skims
a telephone wire.
Where is it going?
Where can it land?
Every runway
shifting sand.
All citizens
are in their bands.
We are under
Judgement's Hand.
America.
Alive with stasis.
All opponents
in their places.
No room for love
in those rat races.
We could be gone
without any traces.
No trace of culture.
No money earned.
All gain is stealing.
Compassion spurned.
Museums raided.
Books are burned.
Hard to watch it.
Trees are felled.
Racial violence.
Hatred sells.
Anthropology
gone to hell.
All hope is
A WISHING WELL.
SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
11/18/2020
Nov 18, 2020
Nov 18, 2020 at 5:26 AM UTC
Sinking to the deeper suffocation,
I scavenge the soil for the astray nail.
A final spike to lock away the life.
As the light gets darker,
a pungent smell takes over,
smearing everything in its stench.
I descry my melting face.
Air implored perfervidly to break my obstinacy.
I dived deeper,
smiling at its desperate attempt.
Its hope to stop the dead from dying.
My fingers touch the inner debris,
aspiring to find the last nail for the coffin.
A couple of more suffocations later,
I find it;
hidden under the pile of thorns.
I pin it to my heart.
One last breath,
and I ceased at the dawn.
Nov 12, 2020
Nov 12, 2020 at 12:37 AM UTC
Choices, so many choices:
Nordic noir or French comedies.
Bluegrass but not country.
Right wing or left wing:
What is useful and what is not?
Random violence doesn't help the plot.
Summer but not autumn
Moss gardens but not lawns.
The grass isn’t always greener,
Or didn’t you know?
British country houses or French chateaux.
Fishing for trout but not bass.
Sailing but no boats with gas.
Cycling but not motorcycles.
So many choices on which to pass.
San Francisco but not Las Vegas.
The Caribbean but not Florida.
Watching films of the desert but not being there.
Admiring the stars but not flying there.
Impressed by the horseman but not the cavalry.
Settling for Ubuntu but too tired for Kali.
Lumping things together is a bad recipe.
Living in Boston but not New York.
Eating peas with a spoon and not a fork.
Living like Dickinson but reading Walt Whitman.
Staying inside is nice; but run outside, shouting if you can.
Watching Downton Abbey on TV but not the screen.
Drinking mocha latte coffee but not tea with cream.
Loving travel round the world but hating the trip.
You can go exploring with your eyes but not your lips.
Deciding what's worthwhile isn't hard; just be resolved.
Critics tell you this or that, but can’t decide what's art or trash.
East or West Coast—why get involved?
Shuttle between them in electric hot rods.
Don't get bogged down with picking a god.
Followers always end up dead and all that matters
Is where they bury or burn you or scatter,
Whether you are declared saint or sinner.
But if I were one of them I would reconsider:
You can be a prophet, the calf that’s golden,
If enough of your votes are stolen.
You can even rule the world
If you ruin lives, steal countries and hurl
Thousands of lies online. These are the stakes.
"Lawyers, guns and money": that's all it takes.
The only real price will be your soul.
But do you believe in it when you get old?
Better make a simple choice.
Speak simply in a honeyed voice.
I read the news today,
Telling me which words to shout,
Make people ignore that time is running out.
Learn to step on them and which crimes to flaunt.
And how to get everything I want,
Then I can enjoy it as the storms rage round,
Live on the mountain as the sea waters drown
Everyone else—do I only need to save myself?
I've got a bombproof mansion underground.
I can hold out fifty years in such a spot....
I would be safe and comfortable,
But then, maybe not...
Apr 29, 2020
Apr 29, 2020 at 6:15 PM UTC
wake up
there is silence outside
there is a song playing you don’t know the words to.
there are words, no, cameras on the walls
read them.
here is a microphone -
stop,
stand still,
shed your skin
we are spinning faster than your monkey brain can compute.
air thick with smoke, no —
suffocating planet shaking under plastic wrap.
did you know there are ammonia clouds on jupiter?
do you realise we are fighting over barrels of oil?
don’t touch me
because i don’t know if i want to die,
waiting for the end in the end times
Apr 1, 2020
Apr 1, 2020 at 3:24 PM UTC
These are interesting times
Blessing cursing each moment
Smelling like the '80s
Rhyming with the '60s
Cringing like the '40s
Gasping at '17
It's The War of The Worlds II
Man versus man versus nature and self
A free-for-all melee, just name it
Where bacteria and viruses
and gas and atoms
Will be our doom in the end
But not before we've wreaked havoc
on all that we love.
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 9:41 AM UTC
#*Perilous times are foretold for the end
When the one who betrays might as soon be a friend
When he who walked with you in the midst of God's throng
Proves a broken-off reed who didn't belong
When the crowd turns away from the truth they once knew
To embrace a strange fire of the enemy's brew
When the mystic is favored much more than the teacher
And intolerant is the name reserved for the preacher
For myriads have tasted of the heavenly gifts
Then at some unknown point the set compass shifts
And they show by the fact that they do not endure
That they never knew the One Whose salvation is sure
For He's promised He cannot lose one of His own
Yet His wheat grows with tares that His enemy's sown
So these goats dressed as sheep might say all the right words
But pasted-on wings do not turn moles to birds
They learn the same Scriptures and enjoy the same songs
But haven't yet come to the cross for their wrongs
Haven't taken it up and followed the Lord
Have never been born of His Spirit Who is poured
Into all whom the Father has chosen for His Son
Those predestined before the world had begun
So among the elect in the pews sit the dead
Unregenerate men taking up masks instead
And some will sit thus for the rest of their life
While others walk away overcome by the strife
Of their trials, distractions, desires or greed
Rather trusting the world to provide all that they need
For discipleship costs and most think it too high
A price now to pay of their self who must die
Most are tripped by the weight of that covenant walk
Which accompanies a faith that goes past mere talk
It is God's grace alone which grants genuine belief
And with it repentance for proud or for thief
While the course remains bumpy until dying day
The saved may fall down, but they can't fall away
For salvation from first to the last is of the Lord
And His Spirit within is what keeps saints secured
It's our duty and privilege to obey and abide
Yet how could we without His power inside?
Now besides a new fuel we receive a new nature
The old man is dead, we are made a new creature
One that's being conformed to the image of Jesus
So we live to please Him now and not to please us
But because of this switch the world is enraged
For when light shines in darkness its evil's front stage
They hate us the same as they hated our Master
And as time nears its close their fury swells faster
Persecution's been promised for all who are godly
Could be mocking, rejection or harm that is ******
It cannot compare though to what's been exchanged
In the gift of redemption for our souls long-deranged
So we dare not forget when the blows are received
That those doing the punching are still dead and deceived
Still locked in the grip of the enemy's force
Still blinded by sin, still enslaved to its course
Just judgment will come if they do not repent
If they keep on rejecting God's Lamb Who was sent
So it's best left to Him to defend us against
The disdain and discord of a world that's incensed
For they're already judged who refuse to believe
And we would be too but for mercy's reprieve
Being saved from God's wrath that is soon to be poured
Out full strength onto those who His truths have ignored
In the meantime the Father's maturing His children
Forging character depth through both trials and discipline
So let's not lose hope in the face of our sorrow
But rejoice that He's working it out for tomorrow
Since we have a sure treasure stored for us in heaven
And we'll soon be set free from all sin-staining leaven
Let's press on toward Christ's likeness worked in us by grace
And look hard for first moments our eyes see His face!*#
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 11:36 AM UTC
and it will be late December
in the glow of the 25th
in the shadow of a new year
when the aligning takes place
one chilly night
the domino falls
and in the flutter of a hummingbird wing
we shall be no more
and somewhere
on some faraway land
one will be watching
20 million years from 2012
on a chilly December night
and catch the final blink
of a distant star
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 12:16 AM UTC
Oh poetry, grant me no greatness, no skill to outshine
any other artist, for humility should meet my own soul.
Rather, every act of mistake, character flaw, have each
unlived moment I experienced shown and glorfield in
the echoes of eternity. Poetry, provide me passion now,
for my Muse needs rest of teachings, reminding that
any act now, could be my last. I believe death is a constant
in thy life.
(knowledge variable)
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 8:07 PM UTC
In the absense of hope
and the onset of hopelessness
we seek intervention
in the form of divinity or
our forefathers
watching us pander away
our lives and our souls...
but are we worthy to be saved
given another chance?
will a chosen few be spared
those that have held some shred
of the human genome?
the black knight watches us
reporting to God or to those that
brought us here
on our digression
if Paradise is to survive
the cleansing is inevitable
pray
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 11:22 AM UTC
As the winds grow stronger and the snow falls heavy,
as the oceans rise and pour over the levee,
as the sweltering heat makes us sleep in the day
and work in the night, I’ll take your hand and say:
Dance with me in the darkness, until the futile dawn;
sing while I play guitar, we don’t have long.
Read your poems to me while we have a little time;
we have no future, but we still have rhyme.
Let’s drink a toast, or two, to what might have been,
and what once was, before our time turned grim
Let’s plunder the pharmacy, or eat the magic mushroom;
don’t go into the night easy, but don’t rage at the moon.
Let’s savor all the moments, as our destiny arrives.
Let’s not waste another minute of our precious time alive.
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 7:45 PM UTC
what is love
in a world that's dying
what is joy
in a world so trying
what is truth
in a world where lying
is an art form
what is faith
in a world so blind
what is hope
in a world unkind
what are dreams
in a world where mind
is unexplored
what is peace
in a world unfed
what is poetry
in a world unread
what is living
in a world who's bed
has already been made
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
The earth shalt
Be in chaos,
Global
Turmoil
Soon;
For whom wilt
Thou chooseth;
Christ, or an Antichrist
That maketh all small,
Rich, poor, meek,
Taketh the bite of Satan
The mark of the beast.
Wherein is thine hope?
Man, or men? Traditional
Deities, cloaked under demon's
Of stench.
Christ Yeshua spoke
Come unto me all ye that labour
And art heavy laden; for he is meek
And lowly in heart, and all whom seek
Him shalt find rest in their soul's.
For peace only cometh from Christ's
Salvation alone.
If haven't accepted his salvation today
Soon the word's ( come up hither ) will
Be for the world to see on Judgement's
Display. We don't hath tommorrow,
And neither today, I pray O' do I pray
That thou shalt find the Messiah-
Yeshua ha'mashiach, the only eternal way.
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 7:09 PM UTC
I was like a sock in a washing machine I was able to grab air,
Or what was at least a substance I could breath in. I coughed
With each breathe, but at least I wasn't with those now
Floating by like the river sticks. So many like stepping stones
I could have made my way across to the buildings that weren't
Hollow carcasses emptied on to the city for all to view upon.
I picked my self up on to a car, a tomb should I say, silent faces
Looked back at me eyes wide open water splashing on their
Hair floating like medusas snakes, but the only stone was their
Looks frozen in that moment where everything just stopped but
Moved so fast. I sit as it floats past 5th avenue, I just sat silently.
15.07.2016
*"Well ladies and gentlemen they have solved the energy needs
With now what is being hailed as the new energy that will propel
Us to a new age of travel above and beyond the earth,*
17.07.216 08:30am
**"Please If you listening to this broadcast get out of the coastal cites,
It has been a day since they turned it on and with in moments it
Went to critical mass as they tested it on the ocean.*
17.07.2016 10:30am
*"Dear god what have they done this is unprecedented in its scale.
We have been told that due to the location of the project their were
Some unknown variables that were ignored. We believe that volcanic
Vents were below the test area and bombarding surrounding area of
Ocean with a low level previously unknown radiation that when
In contact with humans does no harm but the system amplified it
And is now in critical mass stage over to our eye in the sky,**
*"Hi Jean well were as near as we can get but all looks calm at
The moment, we have been told they finally have it contained
And that we shouldn't worry* "O MY GOD ITS REALLY HAPPENIN.........,
"Jean, jean je.........
That was two hours ago, seems like a month already. But only
Two hours? As I hear it spread across the ocean like a ripple,
Anything within a thousand miles was ash, lucky ********
The EMP wave ricocheted around the planet taking all electrical
Systems out in every part of the globe. Those lucky enough to
Have protected their systems may have a small chance a small one.
I look around and see the dominos of builds grand in the vertical
Stance now toppled like broken branches resting on each other.
Waiting for that gust to finally take them to the ground in a
culmination of its final rumblings of death taken the saplings around
Down with it.
The car collides with a sign post, it reaches towards the window.
As I climb up it finally sinks to where ever its journey takes those to
their final resting place. I walk up the flights of stars and stop to
Take in the view. A tear drops from my eye, and I wonder what
Will happen. Will I survive this new city of the dead or join them.
Dec 23, 2015
Dec 23, 2015 at 6:59 PM UTC
i.
Planet doom
Is on it's final breath;
Though, I shalt be safe
In mine reyna's nest.
ii.
A nest made from
Blood and pulsing;
Whilst her carbuncle
Connecteth with me, entrancing.
iii.
She hast saved me
From me;
She delivereth me
From devlish seed's.
iv.
As she giveth me mine need's
Any king couldst desire;
She's mine Filipino rose
The light to mine soul, mine fire.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley/ Filipino rose dedication
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 10:49 AM UTC
Black carbon soot
Yellow, blue flames
Like a thief, the night took
Our fair sunlight away
Green etheral gases
Red burning star
Like a dog, the earth shook
Spewing fire and tar
Pink pedaled roses
White fallen snow
Like an axe, striking wood
Our minds reel from the blow
Lavendar mists
Gray cloudy seas
Like an angel, forsaken
We’ll be brought to our knees.
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 11:59 AM UTC
To walk among the living
cursed to be the dead
I understand the fear inside
because I bathe in dread
and to sleep a peaceful night
with fate dancing on my head
leaves a taste of rotting premonitions
upon my tongue instead
*Beware of your surroundings
wash the evil off your hands
We are no longer safe from Satan
he has kissed the promised land
And when war ceased to erase
the common fault of man
There will be an entire wave of famine
birthed from the smallest grain of sand*
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 8:27 PM UTC
I opened a door in the cosmos
and was swallowed, ensconced
by the darkness that followed.
Euphoric,
there you were
Phantasmagoric and sidereal;
I find I'm beside myself.
Come along and freefall with me
At the end of times
O'er the cliffs of nigh
We'll aspire to fire into spirals of nebulous unknown.
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 10:45 AM UTC