"calleth" poems
If I'm gonna treateth mine woman as a queen
I shalt treateth her as a queen daily;
As tis Men just think special occasion's and holiday's
Art the only day's to calleth their women Queen's,
With me, every day's a holiday
Every day that I'm with mine queen...............
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 5:42 PM UTC
Ladybug, where does thine own self dwell? Thou art quiet, defiant; a leader of the pack of colorful shells.
Thou hast lined the wall's with thine wing's spread far wide, thou hath tried to flyeth, yet only end back from whence thou began!!!Creature no one understands.
Flourisher of restfulness, gathering knowledge to gain speed. After all no one seeith the smallest beauty such as thyself! Doth thou need help?
Is thy destination predetermined as mine feels? You'd walk slower in heel's if that was the case......
You'd rush the highest branch to calleth the view thine own place!!!
Such a lonesome face, thy cataract's seeith in all views... Old and new, ugly and complete!!! You've seen all brokenness and defeat! Haven't you the smallest of loves?
Angel of bugs, spotted ladybug of mine.......
©Lonesome poets poetry
©brandon Nagley
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 7:34 AM UTC
A soul, a survivor of an emptied dark pit
We calleth the planet-globe; Certes a western
Mountain glow. She giveth all, even to those
Who cometh with hatred, she's outspoken,
Unbroken, willing and thus patient. A prophetess
Of the clandestine; her poetry as wine to relax
Men and boy's, girl's who knoweth none joy- she
Bringeth the finest of lingo. Even with her own
Worries, she let's thine head, with her comforting
Word's- relax upon thine pillow. She's verily a
Poetess of the native land's meadow's. O' soul-
Survivor, with an open heart and kindred-spirit.
Only if everyone couldst seeith thy light, they'd
All come near it.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Birthday dedicated to soul-survivor....
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 3:59 PM UTC
The demon scratches me
I bite him back
The demon pushes me
I spit in his face with a smack
The demon taunts me
I calleth him out by name
They hate their name called
Don't wanna be recognized for the flame
The demon shows false affections
I giveth him hate
The demons a smiler as he latches to me
I'll kick him to hells gate
The demons find me downtimes
Though with God I shalt win
Demons love misery
To seeith one in sin
Demons are smelly
Like all the dump trucks on the earth
Times ten
Demons haveth enemies
They hate even their own kind
They haveth none kin
Demons haveth a date
With Satan in the fire
They'll turn thou on with lust
For thou they do admire
Demons hast hurt me
They've tried to bring me to mine death
Soo many health issues
I know tis not me
Them
The demons hast entered mine family
From the lives we didst choose!
They entered by portals
Between good and bad souls
They came and come as orbs
Spirtual energy
Trapped to a distance
God won't let them get to close to me
They always want more
They show themselves now and then
They'll portray themselves as good souls
Wherein its all pretend
The demons speaketh in mine bathroom
They hide out in the closets
Parched behind mine bedroom wardrobe
Spies as I sleepeth
They want mine bright soul
It's full of massive glowing energy
They know it as I'm told
So to bad because their not me
They made a big mistake
Turning away from God
Now their outcast losers
Fate of hell and grud!!
They'll soon be in chains and shackles
So they cause pain now whilst here on earth
They come in all shapes and sizes as I've heard from many others
Psychics
Life after death (experiences)
And from preachers
Pastors and others
They come large
Small
Animal like
Mauled
They come stinky
Scaly
Nothing thou shalt imagine
Couldn't fathom
Their everywhere
City streets
Malls
Gyms
Stalls
Homes
Air
First heaven
Second heaven
Hell
Everywhere
Yet these demons cannot taketh me
They knoweth I'm gods light
So demon get hence from me....
Go burn in thine own fright!!!!
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 4:26 PM UTC
Do we notice the finer things in life? The husband's and wives, children that's been conceived! Thou and they are all thou needeth when thy roof springs its leak!
Sick
Wearied
Weak?
Looking in all the wrong places?
Itinerant in the stagnative imagination's
For don't even the mammals haveth a place to stay?
Like the son of man
I haveth no chapel
For this head to consecretly layeth!!!
Dog nights seem more teething!!!!
Vestige of all beauty
You've left that still life post,
Wherein thy mantra's I seeketh the most!!!
The I loveth thou's
And thou more....
Deluge of happiness
Covereth me
Bury me
In atmospheric condition,
Oh man didst thou not mention?
The plaques to ***** it's protract sorrow!!!!
Hath society made materialism
And the dollar sign
Their romantic gesture?
A pity to God
And me!!!!
Mobs of fleas
To calleth what they maketh
MANIFESTED TESTIMONIES!!!!
Wherein the frauds
Fakes
And phonies
Art thy t.v magnate stars!!!!!
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC
Some may sayest
I'm what they
Calleth, a conspiracy
Theorist.
Verily I sayest
I'm what I calleth
A conspiracy
Realist;
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Prophetic poetry
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 12:51 AM UTC
Do we notice the finer things in life? The husband's and wives, children that's been conceived! Thou and they are all thou needeth when thy roof springs its leak!
Sick
Wearied
Weak?
Looking in all the wrong places?
Itinerant in the stagnative imagination's
For don't even the mammals haveth a place to stay?
Like the son of man
I haveth no chapel
For this head to consecretly layeth!!!
Dog nights seem more teething!!!!
Vestige of all beauty
You've left that still life post,
Wherein thy mantra's I seeketh the most!!!
The I loveth thou's
And thou more....
Deluge of happiness
Covereth me
Bury me
In atmospheric condition,
Oh man didst thou not mention?
The plaques to ***** it's protract sorrow!!!!
Hath society made materialism
And the dollar sign
Their romantic gesture?
A pity to God
And me!!!!
Mobs of fleas
To calleth what they maketh
MANIFESTED TESTIMONIES!!!!
Wherein the frauds
Fakes
And phonies
Art thy t.v magnate stars!!!!!
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 5:33 PM UTC
3
“Sic transit gloria mundi,”
“How doth the busy bee,”
“Dum vivimus vivamus,”
I stay mine enemy!
Oh “veni, vidi, vici!”
Oh caput cap-a-pie!
And oh “memento mori”
When I am far from thee!
Hurrah for Peter Parley!
Hurrah for Daniel Boone!
Three cheers, sir, for the gentleman
Who first observed the moon!
Peter, put up the sunshine;
Patti, arrange the stars;
Tell Luna, tea is waiting,
And call your brother Mars!
Put down the apple, Adam,
And come away with me,
So shalt thou have a pippin
From off my father’s tree!
I climb the “Hill of Science,”
I “view the landscape o’er;”
Such transcendental prospect,
I ne’er beheld before!
Unto the Legislature
My country bids me go;
I’ll take my india rubbers,
In case the wind should blow!
During my education,
It was announced to me
That gravitation, stumbling,
Fell from an apple tree!
The earth upon an axis
Was once supposed to turn,
By way of a gymnastic
In honor of the sun!
It was the brave Columbus,
A sailing o’er the tide,
Who notified the nations
Of where I would reside!
Mortality is fatal—
Gentility is fine,
Rascality, heroic,
Insolvency, sublime!
Our Fathers being weary,
Laid down on Bunker Hill;
And tho’ full many a morning,
Yet they are sleeping still,—
The trumpet, sir, shall wake them,
In dreams I see them rise,
Each with a solemn musket
A marching to the skies!
A coward will remain, Sir,
Until the fight is done;
But an immortal hero
Will take his hat, and run!
Good bye, Sir, I am going;
My country calleth me;
Allow me, Sir, at parting,
To wipe my weeping e’e.
In token of our friendship
Accept this “Bonnie Doon,”
And when the hand that plucked it
Hath passed beyond the moon,
The memory of my ashes
Will consolation be;
Then, farewell, Tuscarora,
And farewell, Sir, to thee!
2.6k
i.
O' mine asawa, mine novel put away for millennia,
Brute man hast hidden thee from view, thou hast been burdened by men's crucifying, thy fear's art of lonesomeness; as many hast left thee, As I've known thine tears. I've seen and watched thy fear's, over the year's thine heart was bleeding.
ii.
Though whilst thou was leaking from thine wound's, I was keeping track on high, from the moon, and universal sky, from the nebula they calleth God's eye; I made plan's to cometh near. Thither below where I hadst none purpose, other than thee; I asked ourn maker to pusheth me into the sea of the great Pacific ocean, I hadst come with mine love, and incorporeal potion's.
iii.
Afore thine nativity, I hadst known thee a whilst, though as an angel thy falling to the atmosphere madeth thee forget thy memory; and divine self. Though I remembered thou, as thy soulmate from ages passed: I waited, with the great originator, I hadst beseeched him to seeing thee again; mine beloved, mine consort of other realm related. As Elohim kneweth thou was mine Filipino rose, mine all, and best friend: he granted me back heaven, as I landed into thy hand's.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley-Filipino rose dedicated
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 5:01 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
1.
New Year met me somewhat sad:
Old Year leaves me tired,
Stripped of favorite things I had,
Balked of much desired:
Yet farther on my road to-day,
God willing, farther on my way.
New Year coming on apace
What have you to give me?
Bring you scathe, or bring you grace,
Face me with an honest face;
You shall not deceive me:
Be it good or ill, be it what you will,
It needs shall help me on my road,
My rugged way to heaven, please God.
2.
Watch with me, men, women, and children dear,
You whom I love, for whom I hope and fear,
Watch with me this last vigil of the year.
Some hug their business, some their pleasure-scheme;
Some seize the vacant hour to sleep or dream;
Heart locked in heart some kneel and watch apart.
Watch with me, blessed spirits, who delight
All through the holy night to walk in white,
Or take your ease after the long-drawn fight.
I know not if they watch with me: I know
They count this eve of resurrection slow,
And cry, "How long?" with urgent utterance strong.
Watch with me, Jesus, in my loneliness:
Though others say me nay, yet say Thou yes;
Though others pass me by, stop Thou to bless.
Yea, Thou dost stop with me this vigil night;
To-night of pain, to-morrow of delight:
I, Love, am Thine; Thou, Lord, my God, art mine.
3.
Passing away, saith the World, passing away:
Chances, beauty and youth sapped day by day:
Thy life never continueth in one stay.
Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark hair changing to gray
That hath won neither laurel nor bay?
I shall clothe myself in Spring and bud in May:
Thou, root-stricken, shalt not rebuild thy decay
On my ***** for aye.
Then I answered: Yea.
Passing away, saith my Soul, passing away:
With its burden of fear and hope, of labor and play;
Hearken what the past doth witness and say:
Rust in thy gold, a moth is in thine array,
A canker is in thy bud, thy leaf must decay.
At midnight, at cock-crow, at morning, one certain day
Lo, the Bridegroom shall come and shall not delay:
Watch thou and pray.
Then I answered: Yea.
Passing away, saith my God, passing away:
Winter passeth after the long delay:
New grapes on the vine, new figs on the tender spray,
Turtle calleth turtle in Heaven's May.
Though I tarry, wait for Me, trust Me, watch and pray.
Arise, come away, night is past, and lo it is day,
My love, My sister, My spouse, thou shalt hear Me say.
Then I answered: Yea.
2.3k
i.
Soon, verily soon
Shalt the seven trumpet's sound;
Awakest from slumber mine land
And world,
Thy peace that thou seeketh
In Christ only
Shalt be found.
ii.
Soon, verily soon
Shalt the Antichrist make his mark;
The moon to turneth blood
The sea's boiling with dust.
A new order to adjust,
O' man, in whom doth thou trust?
iii.
Soon, verily soon
Shalt rich men hide
In room's; Bunker's to
Bomb's, children taken
From mom's, rapture;
Cometh up hither for
Few.
iv.
Soon, verily soon
Shalt the earth moan
In heat; a false peace
Deal for Israel and the
False man whom many
Wilt calleth king, the
Anti-christ to maketh a
Sting, with the united
Nation's as it's front.
v.
Soon, verily soon
Shalt prohecies of
Old, be turned into gold,
From it's verity and truth.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Prophetic poetry
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 12:41 PM UTC
Before pointing thine finger
Calling one "immigrant";
Dont be so quick to point,
We art all immigrant's:
Just passing on through
This stepping stone
That we calleth earth.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 1:14 PM UTC
Passing away, saith the World, passing away:
Chances, beauty and youth, sapp'd day by day:
Thy life never continueth in one stay.
Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark hair changing to grey
That hath won neither laurel nor bay?
I shall clothe myself in Spring and bud in May:
Thou, root-stricken, shalt not rebuild thy decay
On my ***** for aye.
Then I answer'd: Yea.
Passing away, saith my Soul, passing away:
With its burden of fear and hope, of labour and play,
Hearken what the past doth witness and say:
Rust in thy gold, a moth is in thine array,
A canker is in thy bud, thy leaf must decay.
At midnight, at cockcrow, at morning, one certain day
Lo, the Bridegroom shall come and shall not delay:
Watch thou and pray.
Then I answer'd: Yea.
Passing away, saith my God, passing away:
Winter passeth after the long delay:
New grapes on the vine, new figs on the tender spray,
Turtle calleth turtle in Heaven's May.
Though I tarry, wait for Me, trust Me, watch and pray.
Arise, come away, night is past and lo it is day,
My love, My sister, My spouse, thou shalt hear Me say.
1.8k
Who calleth?--Thy Father calleth,
Run, O Daughter, to wait on Him:
He Who chasteneth but for a season
Trims thy lamp that it burn not dim.
Who calleth?--Thy Master calleth,
Sit, Disciple, and learn of Him:
He Who teacheth wisdom of Angels
Makes thee wise as the Cherubim,
Who calleth?--Thy Monarch calleth,
Rise, O Subject, and follow Him:
He is stronger than Death or Devil,
Fear not thou if the foe be grim.
Who calleth?--Thy Lord God calleth.
Fall, O Creature, adoring Him:
He is jealous, thy God Almighty,
Count not dear to thee life or limb.
Who calleth?--Thy Bridegroom calleth,
Soar, O Bride, with the Seraphim:
He Who loves thee as no man loveth,
Bids thee give up thy heart to Him.
1.5k
Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of *******
2 Behold, I Paul say unto you, that if ye be circumcised, Christ shall profit you nothing.
3 For I testify again to every man that is circumcised, that he is a debtor to do the whole law.
4 Christ is become of no effect unto you, whosoever of you are justified by the law; ye are fallen from grace.
5 For we through the Spirit wait for the hope of righteousness by faith.
6 For in Jesus Christ neither circumcision availeth any thing, nor uncircumcision; but faith which worketh by love.
7 Ye did run well; who did hinder you that ye should not obey the truth?
8 This persuasion cometh not of him that calleth you.
9 A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump.
10 I have confidence in you through the Lord, that ye will be none otherwise minded: but he that troubleth you shall bear his judgment, whosoever he be.
11 And I, brethren, if I yet preach circumcision, why do I yet suffer persecution? then is the offence of the cross ceased.
12 I would they were even cut off which trouble you.
13 For, brethren, ye have been called unto liberty; only use not liberty for an occasion to the flesh, but by love serve one another.
14 For all the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this; Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.
15 But if ye bite and devour one another, take heed that ye be not consumed one of another.
16 This I say then, Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh.
17 For the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh: and these are contrary the one to the other: so that ye cannot do the things that ye would.
18 But if ye be led of the Spirit, ye are not under the law.
19 Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these; Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness,
20 Idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies,
21 Envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like: of the which I tell you before, as I have also told you in time past, that they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God.
22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith,
23 Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
24 And they that are Christ's have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts.
25 If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit.
26 Let us not be desirous of vain glory, provoking one another, envying one another.
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 6:17 AM UTC
Shadowic heroic ornamental's, false breed's cometh as incense breather's betwixt lively instrumental's. Macrogram plaza's to abrahamic venue's. Caller's calleth upon themselves to saveth what is not theirs;
Morning breath, to winter's dew, hath thou been born yet? Is the baby yet due?
Constant pain's to loss taken gain's maketh brain's and vein's out of organically made flesh; becometh thine own creator, thou creed of selfishness. Anchor heavy soul dragged away by chain's of past forget-not's, wherein the ground stayeth hot to ruin moronic window's.
Maketh thy bed of silvered spring's thy own rusted medieval pillow; thou grand ol' operatic theme, thou patriarch to a dream, Art ourn day's but a whisp of a second's last?
Thing's hath cometh to the listening one, the earth's spinning to fast; the mechanism's now begun.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Prison writing's
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 2:18 PM UTC
Mine Jane
O' mine jane;
How I canst not waiteth
To seeith thine face.
Mine Jane
O' godly jane;
Ourn bones shalt locketh
Inside, between ourn hand's.
Mine Jane
O' darling jane;
When we do meeteth
I shalt removeth thine old stain's.
Mine Jane
O' angelic jane;
Douse me in thy slaver
Showeth me that amour, thou hath written on paper.
Mine Jane
O' **** Jane;
Bringeth thine leg's closer
Maketh me beg, pull the blonde on mine head, be the chauffeur.
Mine Jane
O' goddess jane;
Throweth me down, back to the ground
Jump on me, childplay.
Mine jane
O' Filipino Jane;
Calleth mine name
I'll yet back louder, us both bursting in hott flame's.
Mine Jane
O' masterpiece jane;
No word's, hush love
Taketh me again.
Mine Jane
O' mine Filipino rose;
Who careth what other's think
The whole world already knoweth.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 5:02 PM UTC
O humanity, thou hath made the foul mouth a normalcy to men to talk to their Queen's, to calleth them slave word's, as if these women art unseen.
O humanity, thou telleth mankind that disgust in magazine's is OK, whilst little boy's calleth little girl's ***** and ****** making thine action's to the devil's way.
O humanity, thou selleth guns and bomb's to eachother, worship dollar Bill's with little faces on them that **** as the green paper's art of greed as so many DIETH for.
O the humanity; thou giveth death by the million's, population control through weather, and war's, thou Selleth blood diamond's, and trade *** to rich men from young girl's.
O humanity, lover's of thineself, don't helpeth noone else, the mall is thine luxury, thy lonesome room is seducing to thee, snorting lines to escape what's to cometh from the sky's.
O mankind, the trumpet's art about to be blown, thou art marrying with other's? And their soul's thou doth not knoweth? Thou giveth charity to nonsense? Yet none to God?
O mankind, none more class, none more slow, everything's fast, driving new age Boxcar's to rusheth to work, to put ten pennies in thy tanks? And thou doth not protest the killing and blood squirt?
O mankind, taketh and receiveth? None giving, noone thou needeth? Thou hath given all the time in the world to thy paperwork, yet none for thy lover's, family, or friend's.
O THE HUMANITY, O THE HUMANITY!!!!!!!!
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
Consider the lillies of the field
Mine love, they do not toil
Nor spin;
Consider God's love for
Both of us love;
Heaven we shalt get in.
Consider the lillies of the field
Mine love, they do not worry
Of the morrow;
Consider ourn blessing's mine
Love, for we art preordained,
Predestined, exladranes-
Some calleth us mad,
Crazed insane.
Consider the lillies of the field
Mine love, O' how ourn Lord
Taketh care of them all.
As he taketh care of us
Fairest Jane of them all.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 3:34 PM UTC
Anon mine love
Anon;
We shalt be knitted into eachother's aura's.
Anon mine love
Anon;
There shalt be none bourns, and none border's.
Anon mine love
Anon;
Mine lip's shalt maketh a dessert of thine own.
Anon mine love
Anon;
Ourn bodies together wilt intertwine, flesh, blood, bone's.
Anon mine love
Anon;
These writing's shalt be put to life.
Anon mine love
Anon;
Thou wilt calleth me in person husband, as I thou wife.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedication
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
Dancing in the peaceful shade
Of eternal life;
The vitality resides inside the soul
The home I calleth mine wife.
©Brandon Nagley
©Earl Jane Nagley dedication-Filipino rose
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 10:26 AM UTC
i.
Mine forefinger is tapping the olden transelic piano Key's,
The room Grecian white, with an oriental shorite; her voice
Is soft, her halo's aloft the lid of mine musical box. As tis I playeth "Unchained Melody"'by the Righteous Brothers, ourn pupil's art jubilant; soulmates igniting together. Brandon! Brandon!
ii.
She calleth out mine name.
The aria gets louder,
The habitation wherein we liveth,
Smileth upon us;
As affections groweth fonder.
iii.
Ourn flesh wrapped like nests,
Of a bird's home in wonder.
Gazing up into the the hereafter,
One day happiness there we to shalt
Conquer.
iv.
As mine angelic host
Lift's me up to the celestial yonder;
I heareth her feather's flapping with the cherub's,
Ourn amour splitting sky's, as lightning with the thunder.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( agapi mou) dedication
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 10:04 PM UTC
i.
Cometh closer rayna, into mine sight
I gaveth mine last exhalation, in the middle of the night;
Do not be frightened, do not fright,
I'm lively, beyond the grave, thus once burdened, as a man an slave.
ii.
Cometh here rayna, into mine glow
Looketh at mine hand's, Into mine soul;
I knoweth we couldst not meeteth, in the world of the living,
But now I am here,spiritually breathing.
iii.
Cometh here rayna, looketh at mine new regalia
I've met kin, with a thousand friends, we chat amongst azaleas;
Heaven tis real, more than thou couldst imagine
I'll meeteth thee there, thou canst stroke mine hair,
No more devil's, worldlies, or tormenting dragon's.
iv.
Cometh closer mi amour', mine poetry is the door
That thou shalt findeth me; I won't be lost- readeth between the lines of mine stanza's, that's where I shalt be.
I'll be looking down upon thou, before thine own dying breath's, Jane, O' mine whole, O' mine Rayna, we'll meet again someday;
Please weareth the honey yellow dress. Do not be mad at God, for he needed me home. Soon mine love, soon mine dove, we shalt reside in a place I picked covered in heavenly gold, a view to calleth ourn abode. Doeth good whilst I'm away, loveth one another, this is ourn creator's message, I wilt sendeth thee blessing's, just continue to loveth thy sister's and brother's.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose ) dedication
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
Tea: Jamil, in the soft breath of dawn,
I am the whisper that healeth, that’s drawn
From the quiet depths of forgotten dreams,
A balm for the heart where silence gleams.
I hold thee close with love that is slow,
Like a river’s song, gentle and low.
Yet on Saturdays, I see thee depart,
To the fire that stealeth thy wandering heart.
She calleth with a fervor, a scorching desire,
Whilst I, the shadow, wait, untouched by fire.
Coffee: Ah, Jamil, dost thou not know?
I am the flame that maketh thee glow.
Her touch may soothe, her peace may bind,
But I am the tempest that frees thy mind.
I stir thee deep where secrets dwell,
In the heat of passion, I break the spell.
Once a week, thou dost return to me,
And in mine arms, thou art truly free.
Her silence may cradle thee in sleep,
But I am the pulse, the heart that leaps.
Tea: But Jamil, dost thou not feel the grace
That I weave around thee in this place?
I am the quiet that holdeth thee near,
The balm for thy soul, the voice sincere.
She burneth with a passion that blindeth thy sight,
But I am the dusk, the still of the night.
When thy heart is weary, when thoughts collide,
It is I who still thee, a place to hide.
She is the fire, but I am the rain,
The softness that sooth’th thy deepest pain.
Coffee: Jamil, thou art blind to see—
In my fire, thy soul shall be.
Her touch may cradle thee with care,
But I am the wind that stirreth the air.
She whispereth peace, but I roar with power,
I am the lightning, the midnight hour.
Once a week, thou dost call my name,
And in my heat, thou find’st no shame.
She giveth thee rest, but I giveth thee life,
The pulse that cutteth through all thy strife.
Tea: Yet, Jamil, in mine arms dost thou not find
A peace that quieteth the storm in thy mind?
I am the silence between each sigh,
The softest breath that maketh thee fly.
She may burn bright with her fire and flame,
But I am the root that calleth thy name.
When the world is cruel, when the heart is lost,
It is I who heal thee, whatever the cost.
She is the storm, but I am the earth,
The place where love findeth its rebirth.
Coffee: Ah, Jamil, dost thou not know?
I am the pulse that maketh thee grow.
Her calm may cradle thee, but I ignite
The flame that burneth through the endless night.
Once a week, thou dost seek my fire,
In mine embrace, thou dost never tire.
She cradles thee in soft repose,
But I am the ache, the longing that grows.
Tea: Still, Jamil, dost thou not see,
In mine silence, thy soul is free?
I am the lullaby that maketh thee dream,
The quiet touch, the steady stream.
She is the fire that consumeth and taketh,
But I am the love that gently breaketh.
When thou art lost, when thy heart is torn,
It is I who will guide thee, reborn.
She is the tempest, the wild, the flame,
But I am the refuge, the place of shame.
Coffee: Jamil, thou dost not understand,
I am the fire, the burning hand.
Her touch is soft, but mine is raw,
The wild desire, the heart's deep flaw.
Once a week, thou dost seek my flame,
And in my heat, thou dost find thy name.
She whispereth peace, but I am the cry,
That maketh thee break the chains and fly.
Tea: O’ Jamil, in mine arms dost thou not find
A peace that settl’th the restless mind?
I am the thread that bindeth thee whole,
The gentle calm, the quiet soul.
She may burn bright, but I am the dawn,
The steady light that carrieth thee on.
Return to me when the world is loud,
For I am the shadow, the softest cloud.
Coffee: Together, Jamil, we maketh thee complete,
I am the fire, she is the beat.
Thou need’st both to stir thy soul,
The calm, the storm, the part, the whole.
In my flame, thou dost find thy way,
In her peace, thou shalt stay.
For in each sip, thy soul shall learn—
Both the fire and silence return.
Tea: Ah, Jamil, dost thou not see?
In mine stillness, both fire and peace shall be.
I am the balm that healeth the wound,
The steady heart, the sacred tune.
Her flames may rise, her heat may burn,
But I am the river that letteth thee return.
In each moment, in each sigh,
We are both the fire and the sky.
Dec 22, 2024
Dec 22, 2024 at 1:42 PM UTC