#tarry - Hello Poetry

me; the degradation of deterioration determining my penultimate script forming on my lips, dying there, is my daily mis balanced wincing this rebelling body sooner than later will be surrendering, sign the final release, do not tarry ready, packed, now, almost all, poems surrendered and I await with great happiness meeting all those poets who preceded me, and the heaven fires we will sit round trading quips, stories and finishing each other’s stanzas yes, that’s my definitive vision, of what the afterlife will be like do not tarry, my heart is tired~ready

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Feb 21

Feb 21, 2026 at 10:01 AM UTC

nat-lipstadt

a long time coming; my greatest danger now is

me; the degradation of deterioration determining my penultimate script forming on my lips, dying there, is my daily mis balanced wincing this rebelling body sooner than later will be surrendering, sign the final release, do not tarry ready, packed, now, almost all, poems surrendered and I await with great happiness meeting all those poets who preceded me, and the heaven fires we will sit round trading quips, stories and finishing each other’s stanzas yes, that’s my definitive vision, of what the afterlife will be like do not tarry, my heart is tired~ready

20

Rose in a dew I thought I caught a glimpse of you. Zooming in I thought I can get closer. Only to eye on upon a river amid myriad over looking stars. A drop spans out to be a sea neither did it tarry. I thought I would give up that big is not for me. But yet a scene never washed away is intact unblurred beneath the million waves of the sea. I thought the moon will give up! It can never touch but always returns over the sea can't forget a scene. So is me once that I chanced to see.

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Jun 29, 2022

Jun 29, 2022 at 11:28 PM UTC

shofi-ahmed

Rose in a Dew

Rose in a dew I thought I caught a glimpse of you. Zooming in I thought I can get closer. Only to eye on upon a river amid myriad over looking stars. A drop spans out to be a sea neither did it tarry. I thought I would give up that big is not for me. But yet a scene never washed away is intact unblurred beneath the million waves of the sea. I thought the moon will give up! It can never touch but always returns over the sea can't forget a scene. So is me once that I chanced to see.

30

Your smile with dimple, Your heart with gold, Your eyes with dreams, Your hands with grip, Your mind with ambitions, Your voice with tarry But Your feet with hurry

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Jul 11, 2020

Jul 11, 2020 at 9:15 AM UTC

DIPTIDHA

Your

Your smile with dimple, Your heart with gold, Your eyes with dreams, Your hands with grip, Your mind with ambitions, Your voice with tarry But Your feet with hurry

8

Tarry I shalt, for ye mine dame. Whither thy nature goest; To shalt I followeth by intuition. Onuppan the van Gogh atmosphere, shalt we be interlaced, I canst sense thy trail; A grail of a holy special place. We art not physically as one at the moment, but by mine death and beyond I shalt meeteth thee. Lord, I beseech ye to maketh a way for me and mine lass, to become as one, under the sun; in these time's of slow and fast. All do I giveth to be with her heavenly father; Mine blood, mine sight, mine hearing, mine life. Mine aorta befoldeth her red pulse; I am her lord, tis she is me. As tis I shalt waiteth to toucheth, kisseth,holdeth her whilst she sleepeth. Tarry I shalt; for ye mine Jane, mine soulmate, we art one. One in the same. ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl jane Nagley dedication ( Filipino rose)

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Oct 8, 2015

Oct 8, 2015 at 8:58 PM UTC

brandon-nagley

Tarry i shalt, for ye mine dame.

Tarry I shalt, for ye mine dame. Whither thy nature goest; To shalt I followeth by intuition. Onuppan the van Gogh atmosphere, shalt we be interlaced, I canst sense thy trail; A grail of a holy special place. We art not physically as one at the moment, but by mine death and beyond I shalt meeteth thee. Lord, I beseech ye to maketh a way for me and mine lass, to become as one, under the sun; in these time's of slow and fast. All do I giveth to be with her heavenly father; Mine blood, mine sight, mine hearing, mine life. Mine aorta befoldeth her red pulse; I am her lord, tis she is me. As tis I shalt waiteth to toucheth, kisseth,holdeth her whilst she sleepeth. Tarry I shalt; for ye mine Jane, mine soulmate, we art one. One in the same. ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl jane Nagley dedication ( Filipino rose)

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