"consign" poems
Befrilled Godfather, why tune Yours to mine
These Rightful Verses your Country observes
I, an Eastern Bun's Lord in Mind consign
Put my Pun in-place for their own Reserves
Now this, a Muse if your Clock does witness
Would burn me at stake or hang me condemned
All because such Organs defy Fitness
And thought the ****** I will reprehend
I grow tired of this evident Trough
Whilst you once scribbled Trademarks with your Quill
How, my Heart-Nosed Configure such enough
Yet wish to join you in your White Pipes, still.
Your Epitaph stays; I dare not complete
Just press these Roses your Approval, meet.
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 11:23 PM UTC
Patience to be Written makes your Hallmark great
There is a Reason why your Pinnacle Shines
For Eight Years my Trek to Romance, debate
Lands on this Heart-Store where She would be mine
You, the Good Luthor, a Genious at that
Wrote the Novel which many Hearts consign
No need for Feathers, Leather, Pen or Hat
This Shop is your Notebook; Your Magnum Design
A fitting Homage to Love's Best Element
Where Hopeful Couples brew their Best Story
Succeed, then many leave your Doors, content
Ready to return for one more Glory.
That Arrow still stings like your Love's First Bite
This Hope I savour to Grow Up in-spite.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 4:49 AM UTC
We can remember it for you wholesale
once we clear the stage of initial erase
Sure I might lisp on a drunk night,
exasperated and claiming in collapse,
I'd rather pack rat the memories in one place
and consign my pain away to tall tales.
I'm drowned, running down wi-fi 6th street.
Printing my soles to follow my heels
as inescapably I lose track of me.
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC
Oh my little sweetie, fret no more
Close your eyes and go to sleep.
Here, your mom is by your side
Singing lullabies, sweet and cherished
All sounds are stilled for you to sleep in quiet
All lights are out that no beam hurt your eyes
All storms, calmed that to a blissful rest you glide
No horrifying dreams to rob you of your snooze.
Sleep, sleep, rocking in the sea of joy
Sleep, sleep close to your mother’s throbbing heart
Sleep, sleep, listening to this gentle lay I tune
Sleep, sleep to wake to the miracle of life
Fear not, around you much love abounds
And legions of angels to guard your sleep
Thy eyes shall hither new beauties behold
And many a marvel for you to rejoice
It’s for you the stars twinkle and gleam
It’s for you the breeze hums sweet and blest
It’s for you the buds open at the fall of gloom
It’s for you the glow worms scatter rays of gold.
It’s for you, the seasons come and go
It’s for you, the fruits ripen and fall
It’s for you, the raindrops plop n’ break
It’s for you, God paints the sky in myriad hues.
Now hush my baby, sleep my child
Lying below this smiling silver moon
Good night darling, drift away
To the land of dreams where fairies live
Conceived within before you were born
Called you names and caressed you soft
Cuddled you tight and kept you safe
In the secret chamber of my maiden heart
I pledge your soul to God our Lord
May He watch you through the gloom!
I consign my babe to His sacred trust
And bid you away to dream’s Never, Never land
Sleep, sleep, rocking in the sea of joy
Sleep, sleep close to your mother’s throbbing heart
Sleep, sleep, listening to this gentle lay I tune
Sleep, sleep, to wake to the miracle of life
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 9:28 AM UTC
I do not swear because I am
A sweet and sober guy;
I cannot vent a single ****
However hard I try.
And in viruperative way,
Though I recall it well,
I never, never, never say
A naughty word like hell.
To rouse my wrath you need not try,
I'm milder than a lamb;
However you may rile me I
Refuse to say: ******
In circumstances fury-fraught
My tongue is always civil,
And though you goad me I will not
Consign you to the divvle.
An no, I never, never swear;
Profanity don't pay;
To cuss won't get you anywhere,
(And neither will to pray.)
And so all blasphemy I stem.
When milk of kindness curds:
But though I never utter them -
Gosh! how I know the words.
3.3k
Fear no more the heat o’ the sun,
Nor the furious winter’s rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta’en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
Fear no more the frown o’ the great,
Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finish’d joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.
No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have;
And renownèd be thy grave!
3.3k
I have always wondered
who makes the fire
who cooks the thunder...
I have always wondered where sound comes from,
the vibration within noise
and where it all goes
As I swallow the smoke circles of chance
I **** romance
Take a look into my soul, it is a light-glance
where are the rivers where it floats?
Where are the people my soul knows?
What is the path my mind chose?
Imagining worlds, seeing buildings in the sky
no more cars only people who can fly
Enchanting a young girl child,
having her sigh not die
inspiring her to play the music in her lullabies
It's a roller coast, a slippery sliding post
the dancing the singing
the chanting the giggling
what game is this?
Are we winning?
Is it truly us who are playing?
Do we write what we read?
Or do we read the written?
do we plant seeds or do we recycle apples long bitten?
A ride a vision
a thought, intuition
do we glide to combine or do we consign division?
A lover's quest: harmony
a soldier's motive: justice
laws written, can we trust this?
Tied by the tiresome trials
covered by the dynamic patterns of veils
consumed by the hypnotic controversial tale
promises to send us to glee so we do not wail
tricked by tick tock
Tricked by time, the ticks-the tocks of time.
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 3:36 PM UTC
The briny tears have dried
The sounding knells are stilled
The grieving crowd, dispersed
The parting pain, allayed
Benumbed lie the dead
Beneath the marble vaults
Bereft of power and prowess
Benighted and beaten.
The sun shall never cast its glorious rays
The stars shall never their brilliance shed
The breeze never shall bring tidings new
The showers shall no more drench them through
A thoughtful friend sometimes seen around
A fervent prayer at times chanted aloud
A plaited wreath, rarely laid over
A trite rite, randomly carried out
There’s none left to mourn or weep
Nor anyone to sing, sigh or sob
Leaving the dead to rot in the closure of graves
To life’s alluring charms, the dear depart.
Cold as clay the dead lie so still
To be feasted on by maggots and the worms
Life with all its glory – defunct
Its fever and fret too – extinct.
How in vain we run after wealth
The power and position we deem so great
Shall come to naught within Time’s gloomy vault
Yet we run and yet we straggle behind.
In vain ends our travail for might
Inglorious is our quest after fame
Transient turn the riches, we garner
Short lived is their gleam and glitter.
Oh Lord! Lead us not into illusory charms
Deliver us of our avarice to hoard
For all that is born and made
‘Must consign to death and come to dust.’
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 6:29 AM UTC
Relegate your thoughts
into the vault.
The mind isn't ready
to deal in absolute.
Banish into oblivion,
untimely discrepancies and faults.
When infractions are unclear
for you to refute.
Consign the arrogance,
into the darkest dark.
Let them fester,
never to see light of day.
Cradle the fear,
nurse it till ripe, engorged and stark.
For everything now lies...
Indefinite and in the grey.
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC
January has long gone,
The hopes that the new year brought have yet to arrive,
But the wet and cold remain.
For February,
I consign myself to depression,
Let mind leave body,
Let auto pilot lead,
Let my heart thaw, only once spring arrives,
And March, then I can live again.
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
i.
I shalt consign mineself
In a balikbayan box;
A snug hole to tryeth to **** air
Mine lung's tightly in lock.
ii.
On a plane, on a ship, in a bus
I shalt squeezeth mine carrion in;
Thinking of mine betrothed amare
How I must risketh mine life, for me to get there.
iii.
As I wilt meeteth her at the Sari-sari store's
Though I wilt be broke, no money, only amour;
Though tis love's not about money, or materialistic junk
As I thinkest all this, I thinkest soon ill break from mine trunk.
iv.
As the plane halt's, mine crate roll's around
Mine queen hath found me, in shock, her tear's cometh down;
Because I fleweth mineself in this darkly space
It was all for a purpose, to seeith the one I loveth, and her face.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane dedication
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
Fear no more the heat o' the sun;
Nor the furious winter's rages,
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages;
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney sweepers come to dust.
Fear no more the frown of the great,
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke:
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Nor the all-dread thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan;
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.
No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have;
And renowned be thy grave!
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 5:27 AM UTC
On Death’s domain intent I fix my eyes,
Where human nature in vast ruin lies:
With pensive mind I search the drear abode,
Where the great conqu’ror has his spoils bestow’d;
There there the offspring of six thousand years
In endless numbers to my view appears:
Whole kingdoms in his gloomy den are ******
And nations mix with their primeval dust:
Insatiate still he gluts the ample tomb;
His is the present, his the age to come.
See here a brother, here a sister spread,
And a sweet daughter mingled with the dead.
But, Madam, let your grief be laid aside,
And let the fountain of your tears be dry’d,
In vain they flow to wet the dusty plain,
Your sighs are wafted to the skies in vain,
Your pains they witness, but they can no more,
While Death reigns tyrant o’er this mortal shore.
The glowing stars and silver queen of light
At last must perish in the gloom of night:
Resign thy friends to that Almighty hand,
Which gave them life, and bow to his command;
Thine Avis give without a murm’ring heart,
Though half thy soul be fated to depart.
To shining guards consign thine infant care
To waft triumphant through the seas of air:
Her soul enlarg’d to heav’nly pleasure springs,
She feeds on truth and uncreated things.
Methinks I hear her in the realms above,
And leaning forward with a filial love,
Invite you there to share immortal bliss
Unknown, untasted in a state like this.
With tow’ring hopes, and growing grace arise,
And seek beatitude beyond the skies.
1.8k
A human habit universal,
our measure of success by possessions to envy.
An infernal curse—commercial purveyors, trinkets
of gold and gem,
shining blinking, fabrics glistening;
the value of thing manipulated by
them insect kings.
By lion's fang and butterfly guise they rule,
a hubris deceiver upon their shoulder
obscuring their likeness to those
serfs upon whom they
cunningly demand servitude, otherwise
be starved, put out, forced to watch their
future falter—sons and daughters
failing in flight, their
wings clipped prior first spanning.
Locust clans spurred to fight over resources, who
sell and buy back nature's bounty once
formed anew into advertisement's subject.
Oceans emptied of fish, forests becoming myth,
uplands turned to wastelands,
abomination fog a spherical prison choking
earth's inhabitants—the marketer's dowry
paid for marriage to a precarious economy.
Royalty made rich at cost of labouring spine,
but worse—
our home and thereby our hope we consign.
By their futile attempt to survive,
the locust instinct to consume,
until all is gone we contrive,
the inevitable a meet with our doom—kings
with stained glass wings to follow soon.
So small are we amidst this vast existence;
the ambitions of men
barely bigger than an insect's significance.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 6:55 PM UTC
Guess you're gone again
Watched you walk away;
You always said breathe out then in;
Know you'll be back someday.
Same seeks same to find its home
Not meant to chase the vogue
Some souls are surely made to roam
Rebel always chooses Rogue.
And rebels need a reason
We can’t abide bad laws; yet
Against the heart there is no treason
When standing for a Cause.
Always loved unspoken things
Like the thrill of open sky
Every bird must find its wings
To let go of fear and finally fly.
Beneath your chest there beats a fire
A powerful creature that needs to be free
Weave these words into the pyre
This is who you’re meant to be.
And I refuse to be your cage,
Won’t bind your feet or blind your soul
Won’t consign you to dance on broken stage, ‘cos
You’re meant for more than that role.
Can’t hide a sky of stars in a box
Can’t bottle a boundless tide,
Can’t block nature behind black locks,
Though I’m ashamed to say I’ve tried.
If you must fade to find your grace
Because you’re made of art,
Just know you always have a place
Wherever waits this heart.
So,
You’re always free to go, and
Seek each untraveled road;
Build your dream abode.
Just please hear this song
That I’ve been singing all along:
I’ll always prove your fears were wrong, for
Some things will not erode.
Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 4:32 PM UTC
My choice as a young lass
is very essential; it will bring
permanent changes in my life.
And that’s the thought I didn’t
come to think of when I was 16.
My choices haunted me
for the rest of my existence.
I just hope to consign to oblivion
your tiled floors and iron hands
the leather belts and broken glasses
so as my bruised skin and scarred wrists.
All that’s become black and blue.
Because that’s what I want,
to tell my daughter to be careful
and not to be that girl in my own story.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 5:25 PM UTC
A year has gone and passed away
And still our love may yet hold sway
I wish you luck and thus consign
Our love, my soulful Valentine
So as another year begins
And so must fade our shameful sins
I raise my glass filled up with wine
To you, my soulful Valentine
I will dream of what we had
The good, the great, the real, the bad
And as our paths ne'er intertwine
In life, my soulful Valentine
When you have a passed and I remain
And memory ne'er will sustain
I will hold on to the love of thine
Rest now, my soulful Valentine
Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 4:06 PM UTC
This Earthly life is lived in the now,
between what was and what will be.
Yet the Stars above our heads that glow
might, long since, become history.
Consider, son, Orion's Belt
that dominates the Winter sky.
You can't mistake its three bright stars
or fail to find them if you try.
Alnitak in Orion's belt, a familiar
Longtime Nighttime show,
dispatched these photons we observe
about eight Hundred years ago.
A brief elapse in cosmic time
but time enough for a star to die:
Dwindle to a little dwarf or
Explode as Novae in the sky.
Still, at night, above our head
its kindly light will still shine on
Perhaps for years or decades hence
Long after Alnitak is gone.
These words of mine you now consign
as just a foolish waste of time
I hope shine forth my love of you
Long after I write my last line.
Nov 10, 2011
Nov 10, 2011 at 8:02 AM UTC
HEY YO! Buck this Point and Coolie-Toned Swag
Despite the Jew's Hands were you born and raised
That Point be proofed where Rage indeed a Fad
As any Male Sapling begs to be Praised
Which is fine, common, and much into Tune
That in you split-cells for a Difference
Still - shoulder-up - cool Blessings into Boon
That Loving Charm - SPEAK! Your Verse in Essense
Yet, donned and bound by this Measuring Tape
Etched in Base Values which marked your Define
Was a Seedling to Grow; Then check your nape
To relieve most Life's Agues by your consign.
Such was you then. Now Best in Fashion's wear
Speak the word SUAVE. From Innocence you tear.
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 7:25 AM UTC
Celebrate the invisible embrace.
You will be quite alone,
When the altruistic deed is done.
Content your heart in silence.
No choir will raise its voice
To sing your praises.
Consign your life to anonymity.
History no longer needs
Martyrs to fill anthologies.
Comfort your dreams in oleander.
Flowers are an appropriate caress,
For love conferred in obscurity.
Cultivate a flair for solitude.
Isolation is the purifying fire
That steels a damascene soul.
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 11:34 AM UTC
We fixed your heart, it's all spare parts
Your liver ugh, we threw away
This one's new, the one we grew
It's going in today
Those wobbly wonky worn-out knees
Let's consign them to the past
With these bionic ones you'll see
You'll run twice as fast
Need new eyes? It's no surprise
We have all you need and more
Take your colour and your size
Down to our new store
Your genome's on our database
There's nothing we can't do
So come on down, no time to waste
It's everlasting life, guaranteed for you
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 3:04 PM UTC
Cloistered manifestation
Candle lit veneration
Indoctrination it seems
The apocalypse of dreams
subtle degradation
emotional ***********
a soul split at the seams
you whisper wicked words
pleasure and pain are blurred
subliminal hypocrisy
fingers slick I grip these beads
wheat and tares sprout from these seeds
twist the truth in a noose for me
formidible religion
this gospel of indecision
life bled out on your killing floor
render me defeated
my lesser gods unseated
wrath poured out I am no more
chant your litany of lies
This sinner you despise
clench that unread Bible to your chest
consign me to eternal shame
never again to speak my name
bury me with the rest
your religion is death
with my final breath
a means to an end is best
TLB 11/01/08
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 12:54 PM UTC
Every minute
I move forward
and backward
Feel elated and dejected
At the same time
From both ends of the world
I retrograde
Explicitly consign into oblivion
Those marred thoughts
I introspect
And question
My beliefs and it’s pros and cons
Then backward
I run counter to
Those thoughts
I agree to it
And purport to be satiated
There’s a lapse of time
And I’m forgotten
Or maybe I forget
I run
Here and there
Incorrigibly perfect
Like those fake palindromes
Among those assertive
Words.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 8:55 AM UTC