"ablazed" poems
~
Rigel
*Art thou
Thy soul
Of souls
Reaching
O to thee?
Or that
Celestial
Tide thus
Brimming
So, most
Delightful
Beams o'er
Me?*
~
Sirius
*O, Yes!
My Bride-to-be,
Spinning fiercely
Like a dervish in
This galaxy!*
~
Rigel
*My flames! My core!
Held together by my
Own attractiveness, I
Assure, I need not thee
Tis myself I do adore!
Fantastic mysteries
I keep thus pure!
Woo me to Love?
You seem assured
Of your Self as well!
But you must make
Haste to hence take
This, my body, O!
Heretofore to meld.*
~
Sirius
*My lust forsaken
Broken, taken!
See how hot
These fires
Thus burn,
All my Love
To you I turn!*
~
Rigel
*Be gone!
Be gone!
My Love
Must be earned.*
~
Sirius
*O what woe!
Woebegone
And melancholy!
Ease my malady,
Be my Lady!*
~
Rigel
*Perhaps one day
I shall, but as of
Now, I turn
Thee away.*
~
Sirius
*I shall do
My utmost
To burn
So close
Today
Tomorrow
So perhaps
Someday
It will be so.*
~
Rigel silently
*Sigh, you
Persistent thing;
I wish to cradle
You, soon too.*
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 4:31 PM UTC
An old angelic poet went flying
one drab and tempestuous night.
Upon the clouds he rested
as the fallen angels were in his sight.
Whence all angel's were together
Serving their mighty God.
Now separated by good and evil
By free will the hellion hadst lost.
Their spaceships were ablazed
And their crown's they wore as king's.
Their wing's we're ivory crystalline
And their thunderous aura like electricity didst ring...
A trace of cherub dust they left behind in the sky
Telepathically knowing, today their wing's shalt fly...
Chorus-
Chariot's roll
Chariot's play
Seraphim riders, in the sky.......
Their countenance unearhtly, their eye's lit
Their batas all drenched by unseen blood.
Their flying hard to get those hellion
But they've lost one of their ship's.
Because it's their duty, to protect the all powerful God
They sweep by force in by million's, with lightning bolts as Rod's.
As the chariot Master's swept by the ghouls
The ghoulies calleth out their names,
The serpahim said to the ghoulies
Go back to hell from whence thou came.
And hellion its to late to changeth thy ways, thou made a bad choice..... So the Hellion's retreated, back to their doom of fiery noise....
Chorus-
Chariot's roll
Chariot's play
Seraphim rider's in the sky,
Serpahim rider's in the sky
Serpahim rider's in the sky......
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 9:53 AM UTC
Sí. You do.
When You . . .
Pour me your 'cuppa'.
I taste your morning.
Text me your emoji.
I know your expression.
Spout out your wit.
I laugh out loud.
Show me what you see.
I behold your clear view.
Awash me in your color.
I'm ablazed by your vibrance.
Throw me your smile.
I throw one back.
Send me your music.
I feel your mood.
Choose your words deliberately.
I absorb your meaning.
Share your day.
I simply smile.
Take me with you.
I see your world.
Ask me to 'Please S'Plain.
I value your sweet inquiry.
Seek to understand.
I feel worth.
Kinda like our bubble.
I breathe more air.
Fall for the make-believe.
I fall for it too.
Just sayin the truth.
I admire your honesty.
Reply with warm understanding.
I adore your sweetness.
Share your insight.
I de-code.... reflect.
Breathe with inspiration.
I feel alive.
Send me your portrait.
I stop and stare.
Unveil your expressions in Face Time.
I'm drawn to touch the screen.
Show your sweet vulnerability.
I admire your courage.
Speak your true voice.
I know your choice.
Respond with Yeah! & Yah!
I feel your shine.
Feel like falling.
I hold you.
Share your fear and pain.
I help you to regain.
Tip toe with ambivalence.
I hesitate and wait.
Say 'What are we doing here?'
I doubt. I wait... I wait...
Take 1 step in, 1 step out.
I ponder poetry to pull you in.
Shuffle in and out of the room.
My heart rises and falls each time.
Promote healthy boundaries.
I respect them.
Throw me your x.
I feel your affection.
x softly and slowly
I smile and blush.
Risk your heart.
I trust (again).
Reveal your pure humaneness.
I endear to you.
Touch me.
I dissolve.
Brush my cheek.
My breath slows.
Kiss my chin.
My self opens.
Breathe me in.
I take you in.
Reveal your true presence.
I understand your existence.
Adore my presence in your life.
I adore your presence in my life.
(c2j2c)
ps.
C
Our fleeting moments in this bubble shimmer.
These subliminal and true moments we share.
I see hints of your presence and scribble them on paper.
These words of your essence exists with me in here.
J
Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 1:00 PM UTC
Mother Nature is swaying in the breeze, her branches strong.
Her life full and alive she sings with flowers and dances with the bees,
But her mind is boorish to the oncoming threat of November.
The startling entrance of Fall is like fire to her leaves,
New electricity attacks her arm’s protectors; prepared with strong green shields.
Yellow, orange, then deep red bleed into a burnt, crackled brown and black ash.
As her melodic hum of green vanishes, a starling yellow spark leaps,
Ablazed chaos now runs on her twisted, knotted, and wise branch-arms.
Eruptions of heat and confusion Mother Nature is seen screaming,
Raptured coldly, her green peace is painfully and hollowly attacked.
Her first shiver yesterday revealed her weakness,
Her shade flees, no longer able to stand the icy-sharp stabbings of winter.
Her annual sigh of defeat inevitably followed, thus beginning her hibernation,
Her tired arms creak and break, letting down their burnt sheaths,
Slowly spiraling down, down, down to the hungry ground.
Closing down to mourn Mother Nature is unclothed and shamed.
Her once green body now dried, bare, and cracked.
Withering winter brings blue death and ice to her brown skin.
Naked she shivers and freezes for three months to come.
But Spring will bring her a new strength and humility.
Mother Nature’s momentary fall will only chill, not ****
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 8:09 PM UTC
supine, deeply do I ponder
of those times as if, I've
treaded upon coal ablazed
beds, of womb fetally
withdrawn; darkness embeds
itself, attempting to see
with clarity through murky
watered canvasses
I, analyze self, coping
with turmoil; glimpsing
the light at the end of
elongated tunnels, leaving
burdensome baggage
that isn't a *** of gold
at the end of a rainbow
giving way to self-awareness
as a glorified sunrise opens
to new horizons; long awaited
as if, eons have passed without
notice, finally, arriving at my
threshold of salvation by the
grace of God; sanity redeemed
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 2:15 PM UTC
O' Earl Jane nagley
For thee;
I shalt.
Be keelhauled
Tied to a rope;
With mine flesh torn off, for thee to be happy.
I shalt haveth mine head chopped off
By a two man blade saw;
Mine top flopping into the basket.
I shalt taketh the head crusher
Where mine eye's pop, mine teeth chatter;
As mine bone's caveth in on me.
Squeezed, I shalt be
Into the iron maiden;
Spike's pushing to mine organ's, cruor to paint the town.
Mine rose, I shalt be staked for day's
Hot coal's to light the wood ablazed;
As the crowd's watching mine agony.
Mine angel, around the wheel
I shalt spin, joint's ripped, leg's to bend;
Humiliation to maketh me a mockery as I moan.
O' Earl Jane nagley
Seashore Scaphism wouldst erode me;
As the summer putrid shalt burn me, as insect's feast their table.
©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
©,Lonesome poet's poetry
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 8:49 AM UTC
Its like I sit and watch the world go by cruisng to oldies,
feeling new inside, but outside is a face of a man who will attack if you dont know me.
gut instinct is below me homie, piece of mind,
dont change your words if you cant cash the truth but besides that...
See im not perfect I lost ties and made knots that made me fall from my own tension with no intentions to stand even if I can, I cant, im grounded by my mistakes that relvolve around me, reminding me what I did made me what I am.
AS I stay subsiding in a position thats clearily hiding,
binding my chest compressed against my last breath , to save what little life I have left in a world where title nor status mean nothing when your an ******* to those you called your best interest I do confess im that lowlife as i cruise still music speak to my esscense releiving me for those seconds im just a person again but after that im back at it again
..I dont write for pitty so let that be known, im just here to vent this steam that once stood ablazed passion for a love that is now a shack of memories in my head of your smile and gestures a feeling I onced called home now ruins from what i ruined, foolish I am.
Clueless more than anything to let many so many slip away im the worst fisherman of love.
because I use my soul as bait, and little by little i let the big ones escape an take chunks of me away to a place I can never retrieve it, so believe it im that space
im that vessle ive became the shell of a hermit , hollow and skirmish.
Tarnished, and used,
debri left as rubble to make roads,
but none to pave my own cause I have no resources
cause im that alone....shit,
maybe I can just leave it for those who wish me back if I do something foolish like giveback the life Ive live, for a plaque and a name and a date?
or should I just lookback and keep cruisin passed the bruissin and showin scars of my mistakes as a human,
all I know is....nothing,
and thats why I stay cruissin, freedom of the road and music,
away from the world and my ruins.
-Deep Though aka
Linguist Musician
aka Emmanuel Hernandez
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 10:46 PM UTC
i.
In the archaic agora
Stayed apothecaries, money changers, and tradesmen;
Governor's with grape stained sin's
Himation throw over's, as for women a chiton, white garb glint.
ii.
Betwixt the sea human being multitude
Were the many different Greek's, and the Grecian Jew's;
This locale was vibrant, a theatre nearby where the soldier's couldst escape from the war, whilst fighting made market new's.
iii.
A poet I was, listening to homer, and the philosopher Plato
Whilst Aristotle read marvelous novel's, whilst Aristophanes gaveth me a laugh; and Hippocrates showed me doctor's notes for the generation's to cometh and pass, Sophocles to giveth fun task.
iv.
Off in the distance was a lass not from around mine Greek land
Her skin a little darker, her eye's **** wick's, ablazed, her sheath Asiatic tan; she hadst no brand, she was not formed by any human creator, her tropical hair, swayed to the Mediterranean.
v.
She was struggling, fighting for her life from the cyclops Polyphemus, I ran quickly to her rescue, pulling out mine xiphos;
She passed out from the trauma, her pupils rolled back timeful
As I woketh her with mine poetic Lip's, giving her life, greek kiss.
©Brandon nagley
©Earl jane nagley dedication
©Lonesome poets poetry
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 4:26 PM UTC
the torch of
a feeble reason lit.
a decision made, ablazed
in a haste passion,
cursory images
fleet
as fragile foam.
the ocean,
thuds
lulls and wilts
promises.
his lean vessel thrives
on magickal waves,
erupts, as a time
borrowed torch,
bold and beautiful.
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 6:03 AM UTC
Title-out of place- by meself. A boor I am to peasantry's sultry disgrace, cargo to be tended, I subsist unamended, how childish I play these games. Liquer buds, saltine love crumbles beneathe day room lock-outs! Eyes stare ablazed, the hued sunset repeadily turns masterpiece of horrid honeymoons idealistic and realistic to discussions seeming strange. Partial bodies secrete the grassed out hills, morning calling awaits.,,,,,
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
i lost myself
when our eyes first met
hearts ablazed with desires
minds cluttered with questions
i lost myself
when we first talked
strings of conversations
stomach full of butterflies
i lost myself
when we went out
awed of your presence
two souls next to each other
i lost myself
when we first touch
a sting to my chest
a cure for loneliness
i lost myself
when we fell in love
gaps were filled
two souls as one
i lost myself
when we fell apart
for i knew
i wasn't going to be the same again
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 4:19 PM UTC
Mind barren, left splayed
by tongue lashed thoughts,
soul stripped bare as eyes
raked skin; dragged across
hot coals; heart ablazed
as angry torment rips smile
from cherubic cheeks,
eyes once alive; hungry
for love beclouds as if, an
apparition appears...denuded
Jun 29, 2012
Jun 29, 2012 at 3:28 AM UTC
Title-out of place- by meself. A boor I am to peasantry's sultry disgrace, cargo to be tended, I subsist unamended, how childish I play these games.
Liquer buds, saltine love crumbles beneathe day room lock-outs! Eyes stare ablazed, the hued sunset repeadily turns masterpiece of horrid honeymoons idealistic and realistic to discussions seeming strange.
Partial bodies secrete the grassed out hills, morning calling awaits.,,,,,
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 10:09 PM UTC
I thought
every word
every phrase
every thought
that got you amazed
set your heart ablazed
was written for me.
I guess
I should've read further on.
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 12:39 AM UTC
I'm bathed, I'm ablazed, mine psyche is now unleashed, from the blood bath and the beast's. Expand of mine appendage's, flapping like pinion; as if a man who hath none care's none more. I shalt explore, the sites shalt stun me in awe, an empress shalt meeteth me under the mardi gras, festive, me and mine amour shalt be, as festive color's wilt be seen, silk and lace to unstring, as two structural beam's, tying the not with one ring....a wedding made for only those to be invited, as me and her....
Art the main guest's....
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC
Why us?past years,days,weeks and month we never saw the signs but the sun was keen on enlighting showing us the bright side,dark clouds moving us from bad to carol songs by the melodius birds singing in the forest,we abet until our companionship ablazed like a toddler seeing its first sight of its mum,gods grace gave us glamour,we did not look behind until we saw the signs,when the summer comes,flowers blossom our hearts interact like a cable and a plastic,our feelings crushing,crashing and cracking up and down,but we ignored them,why us?as we cheerful as atmosphere,the twin butterflies lies on our bonds
Apr 7, 2011
Apr 7, 2011 at 2:25 AM UTC
Stark, empty bullet shells scattered, by chance,
At her feet -- bedecking the ablazed brooks
Like young poppies glistening from the rain
Of the hellish hurricanes yet to come.
Man’s fear fans flames stronger than any wind --
Strength that ruins cities, yet keeps her sane
Like the arms of a mother now afflict’d --
Boiled black, bloodshot eyes. He is not her:
Take his hand, your pride has nothing to gain.
This darkness sated with dimly shining stars
Is not the end of your heavy heartbeat
Take his hand and see the red dawn again.
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 11:37 AM UTC
I sat along the golden leaves of chinars
Autumn working like a zinner....
The nest lay unlatched ,
The stars above uncatched..
The spectre of winter embezzle every Hope of spring...
The snow puffs primed to Hug the buttercups .....
The Heart ablazed with the thoughts of death,
When the spring accompanying Autumn !!!!
When I "ll be laid in the bottom ....
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 9:07 PM UTC
Burning away
Eating at the soul
Day by Day
We get wrinkled and old
Some get stronger
Some get Bolder
Some appreciate
Some start to hate
Far apart we all are
But drawn together we also are
Before disaster strikes we are apart
After disaster strikes we are together
The emptiness in some's soul
Can turn out so cold
But some' soul are open and gold
Ready to help the needy and the old
We try to prevent it
We try to stop it
But all we can do
Is stand there and watch it
watching the world blaze
Feb 6, 2010
Feb 6, 2010 at 4:51 PM UTC
Thou must deny thy power
To enlighten hearts, they're pure
What thou should behold
Is thy help to stay that bold
Hath thou ever believed in chastity?
Then it hath been too late to be
When thou dissed grieves in levity
It is better not to forget history
Legions, armors, protections, sieges
War bugles, tear drops, bloodshed
Orphans, widows, maniacs, cages
Rapists, religions, trials, are been led
Until no white flags are raised
Immobile fingers and legs scatter
In the dirt by swords ablazed
Wish doves with mint leaves matter
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 3:03 AM UTC
I was a Moon in a dark abyss
Wandering alone in tormented solace
As aimlessly as a fish in bowl
Glumly glad within my alien abode
In a spur ___ you appeared from Nowhere
A Blackhole pulling me towards its angelic snare
Rearranging the space time fabric ___
To a whole new world ___ mystifying yet aesthetic
And I couldn't resist, for that Benignity
set my heart ablazed ___ filled its Valence shell
Entwined with you I will step in eternity soon
Hoping, your floral rugs bear stars and moons..!!
Nov 2, 2024
Nov 2, 2024 at 10:05 AM UTC
All is forgotten when the rythm sounds
music drives you to a foreign wold of bliss
where everything that matters becomes light as a kiss
where everything ceases to reck down grounds
The peace that numbs all feeling of cold grief
takes me back to times when sorrows where gone
before our worthless fate was sealed and drawn
a tune that saves me from the mighty thief.
The destructive storm that is within me
whirling around like consuming dark haze
cease to exist at every melody
and when the final note has been ablazed
the shadows and demons come strolling free
where they'll remain till the end of the craze.
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 3:54 PM UTC
hate and agony
you see, as i was stirring my iced coffee and felt it near my chest, i never thought the outside cold could keep me warm
the same way the fire ablazed could quench the numb, making me feel a different brew, late morning of 120th independence day.
hate. i took my first sip--
the long journey of the cold water down my throat to my grumbling stomach
i thought of yours,
for all the days i've met anew
dark and blank thoughts you've thrown aflew
for all the cold nights and misty mornings
for all the rush i felt was true,
your breeze will the hardest to take my mind off to
---
agony. i was halfway through---
the hazy surrounding clouds my mind
my body was calling for a trickle of water
while my rhyme has gone awry
i've been feeling your leaving
how it'll awaken my demons and long for--
the apologies and paradoxes,
your scent and your smile,
the voice that screams through my mind.
i never knew how
and now i feel like i am getting ready for something i should have been on feet for
i never knew how to start
when all this long i've been seeing the omega
i never knew how to end this and pack my bags
that in the morning i kiss you goodbye
i'd be awaken from a dream, an epic of mystery and sadness
and i will feel a hole in my heart for something missing i left from that dream--
my guide as i wandered through the tangled vines and flooded streams
my feet when i couldn't stand and my mouth when i couldn't speak
the armor who covered the darkness with light--
---
as i open my eyes,
let me find you.
and allow me as my eyes bleeds to the ground
searching for your tracks
that is why i am telling you
don't sleep tight
i won't let go of that light
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 10:00 PM UTC
Should my body be a temple
I do not want it to be
a high cathedral in Rome.
I do not want its walls.
I do not want it to be
a protestant church.
I want my body
as a temple
hidden in the deep Amazon forests.
Because my body is... Wow.
My body is magic.
My body is tangled tree tops,
hair-you-can-wash-with-just-water.
My body is waxy walls,
skin shining from jojoba oil.
My body is vines tangling,
limbs which swing freely from
any place.
My body is sacred
on my own terms.
Ink is not to touch the surface.
Ink is not to cover the walls.
I want them
plain
and brown
and muddy
like reviving clay
mixed with rosewater and honey.
My temple is only to be marked by
tornadoes
and rains
and catastrophies.
Should my body be a temple
it will be honest and rough and brutal.
Like the rainforest it will be
damp
with the dark ghosts
running freely.
I do not wish for my body immortality.
Let my temple fall apart
under uncaring skies,
set ablazed by the sun,
blown away by the wind.
Let it waste away under
the violence of nature
for should my body be a temple
let it be at peace with the earth and the cosmos.
That is the only way I know
my body would be effortless and wise.
Not behind stone and marble.
Not inhabited by a choir of angels.
Not decorated in gold and silver.
Should my body be a temple
let it be a wild animal scream
in the middle of the night.
Let it be texture,
sound,
pulse,
life,
then death.
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 12:44 PM UTC