"agin" poems
MA KING AME-RICA GRATE AGIN
( for Brian )
"Your mum's an alien..an...
ha ha ha ha alien!"
the children chant
and taunt.
I see through tears
their sneers and hated
etched upon
their features
like a mask they
could/couldn't take off.
It is like a thousand years ago
all over again.
The Age of the thing
called Trump
when humans were both
orange and stupid.
Now we have computers
built into each whorl
facts at our fingertips
with just a finger snap
we can call up what used to be
called videos
of the Trump thing
teaching humans how to hate.
I, unlike my sisters
am not green
except for
a slight greenish
hue every now
and then.
I am more the chameleon
and can blend in.
I have the necessary arms
and the obligatory number of eyes.
Only my mum and sisters
look like a lurid 1950's comic
"THEY CAME FROM OUTER SPACE!"
yet earth would not be
here if aliens( us )had not come
to save them from themselves
back when earth had entered
the Age of Dictators
as the history apps.
quaintly put it
Now is come again
the hateful hate
ma king Ame-rica
grate again
like a mind
grinding its teeth.
I'm sorry am
the English no good
and the spelling as well
we will
have to hide behind
our mind walls
that we had to build
to keep humans out.
My mother taking me
lovingly in her tentacles
stroking me and drying my eyes
and making tea
With a snap of my fingers
I bring up my favourite video
and a Kermit hologram
floats before my face
"It's not that easy bein' green!"
and I singalong like any human being
"...when green is all there is to be."
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 5:10 AM UTC
After so long an absence
At last we meet agin:
Does the meeting give us pleasure,
Or does it give us pain?
The tree of life has been shaken,
And but few of us linger now,
Like the prophets two or three berries
In the top of the uppermost bough.
We cordially greet each other
In the old, familiar tone;
And we think, though we do not say it,
How old and gray he is grown!
We speak of a Merry Christmas
And many a Happy New Year;
But each in his heart is thinking
Of those that are not here.
We speak of friends and their fortunes,
And of what they did and said,
Till the dead alone seem living,
And the living alone seem dead.
And at last we hardly distinguish
Between the ghosts and the guests;
And a mist and shadow of sadness
Steals over our merriest jests.
4.4k
hey hey ......breakdown
hey hey
the breakdown
aint a thing you can do
but breakdown
unto the truth
over an over again
boy....gotta breakdown
girl.....breakdown, too
lickin the boots of the government man
crawling neath the table of the corporate king
seein ya doin it makes me puke
break down the slave inside a you
breakdown the slave an know the truth
over an over again
hey hey......breakdown
hey hey
the breakdown
aint a thing that yoy can do
but break down
unto the truth
over and over agin
breakdown breakdown
breakdown breakdown
breakdown
you slave you
over an over again
Jul 22, 2010
Jul 22, 2010 at 4:45 PM UTC
COME round me, little childer;
There, don't fling stones at me
Because I mutter as I go;
But pity Moll Magee.
My man was a poor fisher
With shore lines in the say;
My work was saltin' herrings
The whole of the long day.
And sometimes from the Saltin' shed
I scarce could drag my feet,
Under the blessed moonlight,
Along thc pebbly street.
I'd always been but weakly,
And my baby was just born;
A neighbour minded her by day,
I minded her till morn.
I lay upon my baby;
Ye little childer dear,
I looked on my cold baby
When the morn grew frosty and clear.
A weary woman sleeps so hard!
My man grew red and pale,
And gave me money, and bade me go
To my own place, Kinsale.
He drove me out and shut the door.
And gave his curse to me;
I went away in silence,
No neighbour could I see.
The windows and the doors were shut,
One star shone faint and green,
The little straws were turnin round
Across the bare boreen.
I went away in silence:
Beyond old Martin's byre
I saw a kindly neighbour
Blowin' her mornin' fire.
She drew from me my story --
My money's all used up,
And still, with pityin', scornin' eye,
She gives me bite and sup.
She says my man will surely come
And fetch me home agin;
But always, as I'm movin' round,
Without doors or within,
Pilin' the wood or pilin' the turf,
Or goin' to the well,
I'm thinkin' of my baby
And keenin' to mysel'.
And Sometimes I am sure she knows
When, openin' wide His door,
God lights the stats, His candles,
And looks upon the poor.
So now, ye little childer,
Ye won't fling stones at me;
But gather with your shinin' looks
And pity Moll Magee.
2.3k
Tales of ghouls and trick or treats
Witches, ghosts, and things to eat
The spirit world is here to greet
It's Hallowe'en again
Soaping windows, creaky doors
Begging like addicted ******
They keep coming, they want more
It's Hallowe'en again
Haunted houses, ghostly frights
Witches flying brooms tonight
A zombie lawyer is quite a sight
It's Hallowe'en agin
Charlie Brown and Snoopy too
Get rocks as treats, I ask...do you?
Dressed as smurfs, all done in blue
It's Hallowe'en again
The smell of fall is in the air
Tonight the kids are out to scare
I stay downstairs like I'm not there
It's Hallowe'en again
Sep 24, 2012
Sep 24, 2012 at 7:28 PM UTC
Watch as it grows
Spout my beautiful rose
I watch as it blackens
I Watch as death beckons
Tears in eyes
why must all beautiful things die
When spring is calling
Life comes once agin
But when it's death reaches we gather
Say a prayer
As the beauty goes six feet under
All wonderful things must come to an end
So I watch
my beautiful black rose
I watch as it grows
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 7:20 PM UTC
meale, agin thy losabox,
Mine sixth sense canst
Feeleth thine Cranium's
Woe. Telepathically this
I do know; as thine dazzle
Is leaving slowly, but queen
Behold me, as I taketh the
Stripes on thine backside.
I taketh the crown of Thorn's,
Upon thy top; whilst I bleedeth
Thine own blood, so its me, not thee
Whom the demon's confront. I wilt
Dieth for thou, so rest easy amour;
I wilt suffereth for thou, relax mine
Girl. I wilt replace thine water droplet's
With mine own vital being, Upon the
Burdened cross, I'll be hung up; strung
As cattle; struck with cord's, so thou canst sleep.
As when thou shalt waketh from thine gentle snooze, I shalt be
Bloodied, broken, anguished, bruised. All because I tooketh thine Torment's, so thou couldst respire mine muse, all because sweetest jane, im verily in love; verily in love with thou, mine dear refuge.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl jane Nagley dedication ( Filipino rose)
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 8:57 PM UTC
I come on me bike tonight,
Blast bor,
That wind were agin me the whole blinkin way
I wholey hoop that change afore I goo hoom agin.
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 1:53 AM UTC
I love too deeply.
Willing to hold onto the last thread of hope, no matter how small.
Even if you push me way,
Tell me you hate me,
Ignore me.
There's always going to be that fraction of a chance
that one day maybe you'll come back to me.
And we can go back to how we used to be.
Back to that place where I was happy.
So here I'll wait,
Counting the days until I'm whole agin.
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 11:01 PM UTC
Inside of your head
Every little detailed memory and picture
Float about the wandering waters of you personality
I see flashes of you spray across the waves
What used to be you
You've changed now
The happiness that used to be so vibrant is now as dull as the blade you've used one too many times
It's quite when I see it
your happiness
It's naked and sniffling in the corner
As soon as your happiness sees me it widens it's cloudy eyes.
"Do you need help?" I say with a small step forward
Surprise flashed on its face
Before draining away
I see it happening agin
Your pride is stepping up
It begins to pick at it's already chewed nails-just like you do when your lying
It looks up at me and plasterers on a faux smile and says with a trembling confidence
"I'm fine"
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 12:16 AM UTC
“Yo con stik yer O.T. Gaffa
Weer the monkey stiks his nuts.
Dost think I’ll fall fer that agin
No questions ifs or buts?
Fer fore ‘ears now I’ve werked me roe
Thru blood and sweat and tears
And all fer such a measly dough
Werk overtime no fears.”
The Gaffa looked me in the eye
And stood his graernd real firm.
“Wust be better on the dole
With missis on the gurm?”
Cust see he wart in mood fer messin,
He wus beetroot red in ferse.
An I war gunna mess abaert
So I gor on his curse.
“Yo con insult me till cows come um
But yoh wow insult mar *****
Gaffa or no Gaffa mate
Yo’ll end up in six-foot trench!”
He must a thought it tad absurd,
It war achieving any gud.
So, he said, “Time an a third?”
To this I said I would.
He ay bad Gaffa after all
It jus needed consultation.
We both walked off I dun confess
With mutual admiration.
“Oh, wenst yo wont us in?” I asked,
Cust I didna ear ya say.”
“I’m sorry I fergor ah kid,
Yome in on Christmas Day.”
Dec 4, 2009
Dec 4, 2009 at 9:12 AM UTC
this i know.
without a skerrick of doubt.
if not for your hands,
holding gently, my fragile heart.
and our son's, trust and need,
giving roots,
to my runaway feet.
my vagabond soul,
would be, but dust,
scattered, to the winds..
your heart... and his...are my anchors ....sturdy.
agin,
the present, malestorm.
that is my iconoclastic mind.
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 11:23 PM UTC
Come gather ’round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You’ll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’ or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin’
Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won’t come again
And don’t speak too soon
For the wheel’s still in spin
And there’s no tellin’ who that it’s namin’
For the loser now will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin’
Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don’t stand in the doorway
Don’t block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There’s a battle outside and it is ragin’
It’ll soon shake your windows and rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin’
Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don’t criticize
What you can’t understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is rapidly agin’
Please get out of the new one if you can’t lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin’
The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is rapidly fadin’
And the first one now will later be last
For the times they are a-changin’
Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC
that fog horn blows,
worries my mind, lord knows, we don’t need,
more obstacles in this tired world, so the horn
trying, to be blowing fog away, without success
the sound’s remainder air-lingers like foam bubbles
ridden down to coffee cup bottom, resisting, protesting,
refusing to expire, useless/nonetheless, says no dying
sole boat outlined, bout mile out, must be anchored, it’s
unmoved by fog danger or noise, fishing is my informed
best guess, but fish ain’t stoopid, swimming another way
the fog horn wakes the woman who looks askance
cause there is neither coffee or a newly christened
poem upon her nightstand, an explanation is sought
“stand by me,” I sing, “be unafraid my darling, stand now,
stand by me,” poet said “been guarding our bed, this long
foggy night, agin interlopers, bad dreams and sea troubles”
shied ‘em away, knowing that when a man loves a woman,
she can lean on him, cause he’s load bearing, her safety is
always first, poem second, coffee coming, with sun rising
she bemused, funny you’re, kooky like the poems you’ve up-
written all night, up all life long, all stored up in my nightstand,
you’re sweet, like Tennessee whiskey, ignore my scowling my own
poet-mr. coffeeman-sea guardian, you’re alright with me*
Jun 12, 2020
Jun 12, 2020 at 9:50 AM UTC
I posed a querry to the stone on the summit and from it I got neither bile. Nor vomit.crickets chirping loudly into the night. The silenced with fright at once. Time passed through the hourglass with silty silence.
So I posed a querry. Slathered in razzleberry jam to the powers that am.
And the dedafening roar of NEVERMORE did bowl me over. So I posed another. Smotherd in clover and lo and behold the universe expanded in deafening silence.
Alas I am left with para of noia .
Furtive. Distrustfull. Disgusted evunnn. As said snagglepus.
A wuss in sheeps clothing. Serpentine riddle. No front nor back nor side nor middle. Left wanting of truth left here to self ******
Awww fiddle. Hey didle didle.
The cat and the fiddle.... licking his chops
Playing all sides agin the middle
Shmaaart
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 1:40 AM UTC
~for Cathy Leff, curator~
no bugler blaring ‘pay attention’ to me,
no emergent bad news bearish telephone cell call of an absurd tonal,
no alarm clock retaliating agin a humans daily defying double-slap,
no young children sneaking in, with a guard dog in accompaniment,
joy-ending a deep parental sleep from the exhaustion they induced
but as if shot, the humans burst into alertness,
from prone to moan, they instantly revert, becoming **** Erectus,
gasping from shock troop dreams, and a chest-pounding message,
a whisper growing, an ever increasing crescendo, an unnatural law,
an unsullied foot-stomping battle cry that self-terrorizes, undeniable:
write me, your poem, write me now!
ah, it must be 5:00 am...
May 31, 2019
May 31, 2019 at 4:02 PM UTC
Kneeds prayer
For ma dear friend
He jus disappeared don know where he been
He meens alot to many
But he been hurt real bad
Bye wone who kouldnt preciate him
But one will in the end
Ma friends a truu king
A king not a child's.
He drive manee women crazies.
As only one drives him wilds.
Though the one he luvs
As othas can see don't luv him bak!
If he kould only see
He has a tuns of women who got his bak.
If only he kould see
So many will givee him
What he truly deserves.
Though he luves her
Get me enrage...
Tho he luv her
Every women wants him to stay.
Tho he luv her
She Kant even see him.
He luv her
She don wan him
He love her
Yet I'm starting to reelize
I want him so bad
My boyfriend and I just friends now
Since my boyfriend just wanted friend!
But its OK bekause,
I want another
Who don want me back.....
He luv her
Mad chicka enraged
I think I'll cry lonaly,
Sleep-in a cave
But see agin
I want him!
He don know.
Or wantee me at all.
He loves her.
His queen in his kingdom ball.
But I want him
Jealous? Am I????
**** yea!
But I kan be betta,
I kan be bad.
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 10:52 PM UTC
THE LADY OF ALOT
Estatic when she's shopping,
The boughten things she's got;
Right proud of all her purty stuff,
She's The Lady Of Alot.
Alot of costly Chinese stuff
Imported hear by Walmart stores.
She useta shop at I Magnums but
She don't like them ones no more.
Irregardless, she believes she
Ain't not no ordnary ****
If she'd of got haffa chance
She'd of voted twice for Trump
And the strait Republican ticket
So The Donald can fix are country
Like he exhaled in his own companies,
Making lots of good clean money.
In her sweatshop-made clothing
She shouts allowed she can't wate
For the Grand Old Party and Trump
To agin make Murrkuh grate!
She feel she's happy in her ivory tower
With all the treasures she has got.
She sees nothing wrong with this country
The dense, nearsighted, Lady Of Alot.
Jun 28, 2017
Jun 28, 2017 at 6:19 PM UTC
When summer came in 98'
And the eyes of the momentary
Eternal swam into the Canyon Lake,
It was then the sway of skin
Took me to the place hungry eyes
And kids seeking stimulation went
To cool themselves off.
Under sky bright
I saw her with hips of light,
A second beer and I was grown
Into a man worthy of any woman.
No adults with experience
To guide my ill advised tactic.
A smack on the ***
At first she turned in complete anger,
Her curves had stiffened her body,
Combat mode and my buddies
Giggling in the backround.
I saw her beautifully frightful hand,
Her slap before we met eyes,
It was mighty and meaningful,
But when I turned from the wallop
To my face,
We met eyes once again,
The most timid of smiles
And a soft apology from me.
She smiled and slapped me once agin,
It was then I knew....
It was then I knew.
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 4:07 PM UTC
i.
Mine ecclesiastical adamant, amiss I am
With thou not close, I stareth from mine
Window, as an old lost ghost; needing
Thine hand on mine.
ii.
Agin, I needeth thee, next to me,
Warmth of the age's, an unaging
Recipe; for a king and queen,
acceptably.
iii.
I feeleth as a man
Locked in a cage,
The steel to heavy
To breaketh through
To thy face, though
Stuck through this
Glass, beyond the
Other side, I canst
Only hopeth, for
Ourn day, ourn
Time, I knoweth
We'll meeteth.
One day we wilt
Shine, one day
I'll connect to
Thine glim, one
Day thou shalt;
In mine arm's
Be mine.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose dedicated)
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 9:36 AM UTC
Going back to the same place
I can't even look myself in the face
I was running away from it like in a race
After all those years of massive endurance
I knew that it comes with no insurance
But now I'm back to square one
I would rather be on the run
I can't be here, this is not for me
Please open my eyes so I could once agin see
Like in a room that is so cold and dark
And all I need is a little spark
It's not worth it, I'm leaving my mark
Forever to remember that it's not up to us
It's now my time to go
I cant decide if you are a *****
Or is it just me that's crazy
And you that is lazy
And all I do is not up to me
Because I can not see
My head is not working straight
So how cud I blame you, to live like this, all the **** you ate
I want to know how to make it better
But looks like god has a different weather
Sorry for living like this all the years
When I think straight, it brings me to tears
I could only imagine what you went through, all those fears
I'm happy for you that you moved on to a good place
And don't be sad for me, because we are done with the race
It's not ur fault, it's me now
Sometimes I feel like god gave me the brain of a cow
Problem is, I don't feel it long enough
So then I feel like I'm tough
And I start being all rough
Forget it, I'm crazy
Truthfully, I'm the one that's lazy
I wish it was up to me, so I could've made you feel right
And make your life all nice and bright
But now I see what a failure I was
And there's no hope for me forget the buzz
It's better for the kids if I wasn't there
Because if I was, it will just cause despair
And they would grow up all messed up just like me
Not something that they need to see
So please I just have some small favors
If you could sing to them every night their songs with flavor
And make sure they know how much I was with them in love
Every day even from above
They should growing up, do things right
Even if sometimes it means a fight
That's it for me time to go
Don't think of it as a show
I love you and the kids forever
One day we will again all be together
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 4:20 AM UTC
Death hurts us all.
It hurts the ones close to the lost.
We hurt even more when we hide it
but some of us have to hold it in
its the only way we know how to get over it
but we never get over it.
The people who show no emotions
are the ones hurt most by death,
but when they show that they are hurt by a death
some d-bag comes around
and makes it a thousand times worse.
When this happens
we dig ourselves deeper into a hole
where we don't show any emotion at all.
Destruction is hurting the world.
We have to stop destroying the world.
People destroy peoples hopes dreams and any thing we hold dear
but we try to make sure they can't.
Still some d-bag comes along
and destroys everything
then we are broken like a glass bottle that hits the cement.
We try to piece ourselves back together
but destruction comes agin and destroys wat ever is left.
We stay broken after the first crack is made.
We act like nothing has happened
but it is allways there.
Despair is the worst
because everyone tries to hide it
then we r left there with no one there to support u
and help u through it because no one knows.
There maybe a few people who care
but the rest don't give a crap
and jst want to hurt you.
the d-bags in the world that think there r so much better than u
when really they are so shallow
that they choose the person around them
that's goin through some type of crap and puts them through
h*** just to feel better.
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 5:52 PM UTC