"cory" poems
Even though you know some tea, you aren’t automatically pressed to spill ALL of it. Today’s tea features our roommate Sophie and two grody flavors of betrayal. BTW, I’m being magnanimous by changing the names and not doxxing the creeps.
To set our stage, a doe (we’ll call her Britney) high-school friend of Sophie’s is a Yale freshie this year. They were buddy-hollys back in the day and they’ve been clinging since their reunion.
On another track, Sophie’s been talking to a guy (we’ll call him Cory) in her English class recently and it was clear they were “in-like” but their clocked-up schedules were corking their algorithms.
Sophie and Cory finally got a shot last weekend when they attended a party together. However, it turns out later, at that party, Britney snuck off with Cory and smashed him (they were observed, and everyone carries a camera these days).
So, poor Sophie suffered two betrayals in one night. Cory went-hiking on her and Britney - who she'd told about Cory - did the other woman chisel.
Of course, Cory (just another dog-boy) is already forgotten but the broken friendship drama will live on forever. Why Britney chose to betray Sophie we’ll never know, because that ***** is dead to us.
Nov 14, 2022
Nov 14, 2022 at 12:06 PM UTC
i.
Brandon and Jane
One heart pumping their blood;
Soulmates, eternal love.
ii.
Brandon and Jane
Names written on alleyway wall's;
Undiscovered by man,
Treasure's of God.
iii.
Brandon and Jane
Revealed for all to seeith;
Manifested to the naked eye
To her I seek to pleaseth.
iv.
Brandon and Jane
Together interconnected glow;
Ourn flower garden is planted
We art the growers of touching soul's.
v.
Brandon and Jane
Mine flesh is her flesh, as tis her's is mine.
Mine pain is her pain, as tis her's is mine.
Mine name is her name
Filipino divine.
A kingdom with an empress
Jane sardua, lady of time.
vi.
Brandon and Jane
Coalesced in sacrosanct lullaby's;
As newborn infant's, and before the age
Of man we were to find. To find one another
In a moment's blinking eye, I kneweth her, tis
She kneweth me, I searched the beaches and thus
The sea's, as I landed in Clarin, Philippines;
vii.
Brandon and Jane
Forever to be,
Resplendent
Symphony's
Of soulmate
Seeds. Together
Forever
scintilla
Serene.
©Brandon Cory Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication ( Filipino rose) poetry
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 10:03 AM UTC
Tomorrow the baseball Hall of Fame will announce the newest members selected to join her hallowed hall. Ken Griffey Jr. will surely be selected.
I wish Hello Poetry had a Hall Of Fame. There are so many poets and good friends worthy of.
In absence of, I wish to nominate the following poets for the first class when and if it is ever created. My criteria for selection to this Hello Poetry Hall of Fame are:
A feeling heart
loves poetry
is a friend to others in the community
A Triple Crown.
Time and space are the only reason I have not listed all poets here at Hello Poetry:
Vicki (My Queen, a love child of Whitman and Dickinson)
Christi Michaels MoonFlower
mark cleavenger
Musfiq us shaleheen
brandon cory nagley
The Masked Pimpernel
rebecca askew
Sjr1000
Pradip Chattopadhyay
elsa angelica
Eddie Starr Poetry
ryn
Weeping willow
KetomaRose
Steven Langhorst
Mike Essig
Willard Wells
Woody
Elizabeth Squires
SoulSurvivor
Pax
Grace
Dave Kavanagh
Sumina Thapaliya
FJ Davis
SE Reimer
Sally A Bayan
solEmn oaSis
Melissa S
Arcassin B
..... and to those I failed to mention I apologize. I am thinking of you, also, but time and space are the only limitations to my list of nominees.
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 9:24 PM UTC
i.
Barefoot, the sod tickling ourn toe's
Aquamarine, cometh mine queen;
Down the trail's of immortality
We shalt go.
ii.
Long happily ever after
None more manacle's;
To fasten ourn wrist's
For we shalt be unimpeded, by eachother's kiss.
iii.
Let the other's wish
Who art jealous;
Of ourn vow's of dedication
This is reality, not some t.v station.
iv.
We shalt build a nation
Out of the Philippine's;
And Greece
Combined.
v.
A concoction of
The finest Misamis Occidental lambanog;
And the relish of
Thine own king's santorini assyrtiko white wine.
©Brandon cory nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley/ Filipino rose dedication
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 9:15 PM UTC
Dear (anonymous girls name here)
We dont know each other very well but we've talked on facebook and exchanged glances a few times ... I don't exactly know what it is but when i see you something just happens
When i see you i see perfection
perfect skin tone
perfect complection
perfect eyes
perfect smile
i just.. wish i was one of those perfect guys
you know the type a guy who's not afraid to walk up to a beautiful girl and just say hi
but im not .... im just to shy :(
sincerely
Cory
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 8:04 PM UTC
Unang nakilala sa Araling Panlipunan
Sa mga libro’t **** na siya’y ipinangaral
‘Sang simpleng maybahay na tanghal ng kasaysayan
Babaeng sinipa diktaduryang pinairal…
Sa kanyang panahon, ako’y ‘lang malay na musmos
Pulitika, bansa – ano’ng pakialam ko diyan?
Sa unting pagkagulang naunawaang lubos
Bansang hinayupak, pulitika’y pandirian!
Saksi kung paano ang mga hayok na tao
Na parang tubig ang kapangyarihang inuhaw
Lalo na yung mga sa trono ay nakaupo
Daig pa ang mga busabos na magnanakaw!
Mga namulatang pagluklok sa sinadlakan
Ng mga itinuring na pinuno ng bansa
Bahid ng anomalya’t ano pang karumihan
Maliban sa isa na dapat ipagdakila.
Ang nasabing pagluklok ipinagmalaki
Maging ibang bansa’y hinuwaran, itinulad
Ang Lakas ng Bayan nating ipinagpunyagi
Nagpanumbalik sa demokrasyang hinahangad.
Iyon ay dahil sa isang babaeng tumayo
Siya’y sagisag ng pag-asa’t demokrasya
Mapayapa’t malinis na inakyat ang trono
Hanggang kailan ang diktadurya kung siya ay wala?
At kahit wala na sa luklukang hinantungan
Nagsilbing halimbawa na nagmahal sa bansa
Nasilayan kong dinamayan niya’t kinalaban
Isa ring sa Pilipinas ngayon ay nagrereyna.
Sa kanyang paglisan sa mundong pinaglipasan
‘Di dapat kalimutan Dangal ng Pilipino
Itatak sa kasaysayan simple niyang pangalan
Corazon C. Aquino…Mahalagang Pangulo.
-08/05/09
(Dumarao)
*written this day of Pres. Cory Aquino’s burial
Aug 24, 2019
Aug 24, 2019 at 2:09 AM UTC
REPUBLICANS
Former South Carolina GOP leader
kills dog to please God
Rob Beschizza
GERMANY
Germany's top domestic spy advised far right xenophobic political party on how to avoid being billed as "extremists"
Cory Doctorow
RUSSIA
Guy who pretends to ****** people for a living named Russian Goodwill ambassador
Seamus Bellamy
BUSINESS
We're going to be eating bugs really soon now, again
Cory Doctorow
POLICE
Surveillance camera shows off-duty NYPD cop dropping a weapon near man he shot in the face
Rob Beschizza
SCHOLARSHIP
When should the press pay attention to trolls, lies and disinformation?
Cory Doctoro
CORRUPTION
Wells Fargo: we stole houses and we're being investigated for ***** low-income housing credits
Cory Doctorow
LATE STAGE CAPITALISM
How Jpay gouges prisoners' families for "digital postage stamps"
Cory Doctorow
ALEX JONES
Alex Jones is suing the parents of a Sandy Hook victim for $100,000
Gina Loukareas
***
:(
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 3:46 PM UTC
So many minds
have filled this space
thinking of math and physics
Vectors and integrals,
derivatives and valence
mean little to us-
except the rolling assonance
of the repeated vees
Apr 22, 2012
Apr 22, 2012 at 12:10 AM UTC
Deaths Of 2013
My third year doing this.
Paul Walker, Texas ranger,
driving fast leads to danger.
Matt Osbourne was Doink The Clown,
Paul Bearer always wore a frown.
Dennis Farina and James Gandolfini,
always played a mobster meany.
Peter O'Toole, famous actor,
Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher.
President Nelson Mandela,
Dennis Burkley, was a famous fat actor fella.
Lou Reed, is now on the wild side,
took all the colored girls for a ride.
Conrad Bain and Bonnie Franklin,
tv actors who had white skin.
Paul Blair and Stan The Man,
playing baseball, when they can.
Marcia Wallace and Lisa Robin Kelly,
both had ***** that bounced like jelly.
Tom Clancy wrote famous books,
not much on having good looks.
Cory Montieth and Patti Page,
one died young, other of old age.
Jean Stapleton, was Edith Bunker,
Archie always put her in the dumper.
Pat Summerall and Deacon Jones,
played football and broke some bones.
Dr. Joyce Brothers and Pauline Phillips,
they both gave good and bad tips.
Ray Manzarek, from The Doors,
Jeff Hanneman knew all Slayers chords.
Chrissy Amphlett, liked to touch herself,
Caleb Moore's trophies are on his shelf.
Mindy McCready and George Jones,
both hit those country tones.
Chris Kelly from Kris Kross,
Ed Koch is a New York loss.
David Frost and Roger Ebert,
always had words to insert.
Anneitte Funicello from Mickey Mouse Club,
Eydie Gorme almost got a snub.
Jonathan Winters, was very funny,
to come from Mork's egg, made him money.
If you don't know who these people are,
look them up, internet not very far.
For the ones that I missed,
please don't get to ******
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC
i.
She Abode's in the flesh
Just a short earthly extension;
She wasn't meant for this place
Another strain, from starry rain's, intimate connection's.
ii.
An intellectual, gifted at nativity
Untamed, yet maintained with life's finer qualities;
She shelter's me whilst the storm's beat upon the portal
Wing's she hath, like skyline glass, everlasting love immortal.
©Brandon Cory Nagley
©Earl jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedication
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 8:25 PM UTC
He's Uncle John to you, but John to the rest of us
Got a way of telling stories without the fanfare or the fuss
He can jump into any conversation, has a lot of stuff to say
and every bit is interesting 'cause that always been John's way.
There was one about his summer job before 1970,
paid to push a Swan-shaped boat off a dock in Asbury
With a grapple hook on a ten foot pole, or something of that sort
well he'd push 'em out and pull 'em in wasn't doing it for sport~
The same guy who owned the swan boats, tunneled love across the way
twice a week John worked the darkness, but preferred the light of day.
Played rhythm at the Upstage in band called 'Cory' later
workin' Perkins in West Belmar, took the name from the percolator
Around that time he grew his hair out, it was like an Afro-sheen
mistaken for Tinker, a surfboard chinker and drummer with Springsteen.
Cruisin' down around Brookdale in his '39 LaSalle
Met 'Stinky' Tink at Thompson Park, where he was singing with his pal
Hey John, you look like Tinker,
but now you favor Gere
a live ringer for Mike Richards,
and don't forget DeNir-
Oh, if you can't remember anything from 40 years ago
just ask your Uncle John who knows the time in Tokyo.
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 5:57 AM UTC
Andy loved a girl named Sandy
Bill saw a horse standing on the hill
Cory told his mother a made up story
Dave dug many a grave
Eddy loaned his teddy to Neddy
Frank bought a Sherman tank
Greg had a wooden leg
Hilton was related to Mrs Wilton
Ivan strolled in the park with Jan
Jack scratched his own back
Kyle's hair style also suited Lyle
Lance couldn't obtain a bed valance
Max paid a hefty lot of tax
Neal earned a reputation for his *** appeal
Oscar drank at the Crown and Stag bar
Paul gave ten shillings to Saul
Quentin found a silver tin
Roger was a work dodger
Sam enjoyed a portion of Virginia ham
Timmy sure knew how to shimmy
Umberto listened to the concerto
Vlad priced an inner city pad
Wing put his arm in a sling
Xain often rode on the express train
Yule took a picture of the farmer's mule
Zeal looked forward to his evening meal
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 7:11 PM UTC
i
Mother, I seeith thine pain, in thine own depression
Mother, thou hath given me life, I'm thy and God's invention;
Mother, thy halo thou weareth shineth so brightly to me
Turned fifty three yesterday, but mum, thou still looketh 23.
ii
Mother, thou art now getting in thine own golden year's
Mother, when they maketh fun of me, thou dryeth mine tear's;
Mother, I shouldst hath listened, when thou saidst I'd be hurt
Mother, thou taught me forgiving and love is what life's worth!
iii
Mother, mine best friend, and past life caregiver to me
Mother, thou was right, its mine light other's just canst not seeith;
Mother, I knoweth thou art worried for mine physical health
Mother, if something happen's, I promise to waiteth for thyself.
iv
Mother, we've cometh along way, as thou hath seen me in cell's
Mother, I've seen thou to, in pits of doom,behind glass I yelled;
Mother, hell and back we've cometh from, seeing the world end
Mother, as thou helpeth me groweth, I'll helpeth thee to friend.
v
Mother, shadow of mine, musical muse, and gods divine
Mother, we've made mistakes, with no brakes to stop the mind;
Mother, tommorrow if either of us shalt loose ourn last breathe
Mother, sorry little late on the birthday writing, but thou art best.
Love thy son
Brandon cory nagley
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Juna nagley birthday dedication
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 3:25 PM UTC
Just wanna say sorry to all mine follower's for not being able to read your work as much as I'd like to!!! dealing with alot of physical health issues right now so pray you can forgive me, and hoping can read more of your stuff and writing's soon.. Love and miss all of you, please continue writing amazing heaven's. And don't forget, to help your fellow poet out and the unknown poet's who need a good boost... And continue to show love to another poet as you all do... Love you all as the amazing people and poets you are... and thank you all alot for supporting me and helping motivate me in mine writing, especially a big thank you to you earl Jane nagley, for all your love happiness and heaven and joy you have brought me, I'm soo glad I finally got what I've been waiting for soo long now, before mine birth, you mine amour', mine queen and soulmate and best friend all in one, EARL JANE NAGLEY!!!! I LOVE YOU MORE QUEEN!!!!! And for the rest of you thank you for all you do for me and supporting me soo much... You are all extremely amazing soul's alot... Soo know you all have worth and a purpose in this life... As our main purpose is to love another, and you can do that by helping a fellow poet on here when their down and depressed or sick, as mine queen Jane has more than done for me, and all of you have done by supporting me.... Thanks and will read your stuff more soon I pray....
Love your friend brandon Cory nagley...
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 7:56 PM UTC
Can I take a second,
To try and sort out the things,
Thats going through my head,
And turn it into a story?
Five people to tear my love between,
Is way too much...
I dont know who to drop,
Or which way to turn,
So I'm sorting it out with words,
Trying to figure this mess out.
Because being bisexual is complicated.
Can I just be married to my music instead?
No?....Ok.
So there's this guy...
Lets call him Derick.
Derick was the guy I loved.
I gave him my heart and my everything.
For nearly a year,
He was the one that I called "mine".
After school started,
We drifted apart,
But that wasn't unexpected considering we go to different schools.
We had our fair share of fights,
And dates,
And then our time was over.
Only to reconnect a few months later,
Which led to one hell of a scare.
Last night we talked,
And I think...
I think I fell for you again.
But then I think,
How can I fall for Derick,
When I also love Lynn.
I've known Lynn for years,
Shes been my best friend forever.
Shes amazing,
Loving,
And beautiful.
When our lips touched for the first time,
It was magic,
That I still hold on to.
I think I love you too...
But--
Theres also Ashley, Shane, and Cory.
Ashley was my first real girlfriend.
A person I'd known since before I knew myself.
She inspired me and led me into being comfortable with who I am.
But then something happened,
And we couldn't be together.
Every time I see you though,
I still miss the warm embrace of your arms.
Shane is just awesome.
His voice is---ahhh.
He's helped me so much,
With anything I need.
He loves me,
I know he does,
But I dont know if he loves me,
The way that I love him.
And then there's Cory.
I really like him,
And were in to all the same stuff,
But there's no way he could return my feelings.
We would never work,
And I really need to let go of that glimmer of hope,
That I have sitting in the back of my mind.
I love all these people,
I love them to death,
But I dont know where to go,
With any of it.
Derick just broke up with his girlfriend,
And he'd be my number one option,
But thats really bad timing.
Cory would be my number two,
But theres not chance,
Sadly.
Lynn would be my third option,
But she has a boyfriend,
And I missed my chance with her long ago.
Wow...I really hate numbering them,
But I need some order,
To make since of this.
Shane would be my number four,
But he's so wishy washy with all the girls he dates,
That I'd be afraid of heart break,
Along with that,
He's figuring out some sexuality things for himself.
And finally, theres Ashley,
Who would have to be number five,
Because even thought I love her to death,
I wont go back.
Shes too much for me to handle.
So my causers of stress at the moment,
Are the people I hold dearest to me.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
(This poem posted in tribute to the life &memory; of Robin Williams...Rest in Peace)
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
'Good-morning,' and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich - yes, richer than a king -
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
(Edwin Arlington Robinson)
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 11:12 AM UTC
For background - read "The Frumpy Tale of Riley River Duck"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the frigid winters of June
With the snow scattering over the crystal lagoon
Puffy white frost pillows covered the ground
The sunshine making them glitter all around
Riley sat with a piping hot cup of tea
Conversing eloquently with Cecelia the flea
The happy duck sat, blankets covering her slick feathers
Helping her brave even the harshest weathers
Out of nowhere came a huge “thump”
Causing Riley to jump
She waddled to the window
Just to see a cloud of dust and kindle
An avalanche slowly slithered along
The beast heaved, wicked and strong
Flicking up ice, draping the sun with a gown
Speckling, flickering and finally glittering down
Outside came a muffled scream
It could’ve been from a dream
Riley rushed outside
With the sun her only guide
She saw a **** of snow wiggle and grow
How was anyone to know?
That the avalanche had awoken an animal
Cory the angry camel
See the snow and lumber
Woke him up from his slumber
Along with the snow, his temper seemed to grow
And his **** was in a frump
Riley waddled out
To settle this bout
She pleaded and reasoned him to see
That the snow was very fun to throw
All the animals of the Great Oak Tree crowded around the fight
Till the day turned into night
Cory was smiling and laughing, his mood lifted
As his big hooves sifted
He lifted up a snowball, and threw it into the sky
Riley could only watch it fly…
It hit her in the beak
So her mouth was too cold to speak
She looked in shock
As Cory ran amok
The camel had won the fight
Just as the day turned to night
The day came to an end
And Cory couldn’t help but pretend
That he wasn’t happy that he won
Throwing snow was very fun
Riley saved the day
In the late winters of May
She took Cory into her house
Quiet as a mouse….
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
To all hello poetry poets who follow and support me... Just wanna thank you from the bottom of mine heart for all your support love, friendship, knowledge, wisdom and beautiful works of heaven you all write.. Thank you for liking mine work and showing me there is still love left on a planet that's being overtaken with hatred and evil.... As tis I will support you and try to find the lost poets who are NOT noticed those quiet and hidden poets and overlooked poets. The ones in the back of the room. The new age classics... As we all should find the unspoken poets work and push it.... As there are so many unknown lost beauties of work.... Thank you all for support and blessings and giving me new friendship and light to shine upon me. May God bless you on this day or night to you. And daily for you. And especially to mine queen Earl Jane... I love you forever mine soul. Mine soulmate .. Mine Reyna. Mine love. Mine amour'... Mine all!!!!! As tis Jane today and everyday I'm blessed to have you and greatful to have a godsend from heaven to earth to protect and love me. God bless our love queen as Lennon put it... I love you all and thank all of you...
God bless
Brandon cory Nagley
Lonesome poet's poetry creator...
Nov 26, 2015
Nov 26, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
I rearrange the shards of
Smiles and slivers of truth
That collide like broken waves
On the shores of my eyes
Like fragrant words of folly
As if to tickle the open ears
Like teardrops in a vase
And spokes that spin in wild wonder
Dance as if their lacing fingers
Draw magic from the dust
But I remember
In sane whispers drawl
I haven't lost that which holds the breath sacred
As rising tides of hidden lunar glow
Spark and fly from their embers
Our fear
In restless highs slide toes out from
Under the star shine
Curiously sweet yet sickening to swallow
Our tongues burned of what we could not speak clearly enough
For the stirring ashes we thought were as corpses
beat rhythms once again
And I couldn't hold you long enough
But still I released and hoped you would return
And you did
Carefully melodic at first
Yet hopelessly chaotic as we laid
-Cory James McQueen
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 10:04 AM UTC
She was hiding in the garden and met a cabbage named Fred,
She likes to give names to things she thinks are cool,
and call them friends.
Than she took me to her toy box,
"this is where everything goes",
this is the way, so stay and play,
and I know you'll feel at home.
You be Cory, I'll be Topanga,
you be Pete, I'm Mary jane,
"I will be here, you don't have to, always smoke the pain away".
It's just me against myself again,
but she doesn't see my flaws,
"if you bottle your emotions, we'll just drink them through a straw".
Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 10:35 AM UTC
i.
Ernesto L. Gonzales
Aka "DedPoet";
A prayer up to heaven
As the angel's awaiteth and knoweth.
ii.
Thou hath blessed us all
With thy beauty and difference;
Not like the rest, one of the great's, the best
A man, a king, an angel amongst the innocent.
iii.
This is not thine death
This is thy new birth;
Put thy faith in god, not creature's nor human facade's
For seraph's and cherub's awaiteth thee,in the creator's church.
iv.
This is for thee, one of mine dearest supporter's
Thou art a friend, though didst not talk much;
I still felt thine pen, thine hand of gratitude
Thine family is blessed, to hath known a being of beatitude.
v.
Thy word's shalt liveth on, thither the great paradise
Thou shalt not be forgotten, thou art worth more in ourn eye's;
As thy life, is not worth material money nor gem's
Thy life is priceless, because it's from God, awaiting thee friend.
vi.
Ernesto L. Gonzales, a Godsend to Hellopoetry
Ernesto L. Gonzales, half divine messenger, part mortal breed;
Ernesto L. Gonzales, I thanketh thee for all thou hath done
Ernesto L. Gonzales, Jehovah's eternal poet, a chosen one.
May god bless you and your family ernesto, as remember poet friend Ernest, what a doctor said isn't always a death sentence, only Christ and god the father is your doctor, Christ heals ernesto all!!! Though if he does take you friend, may your soul rest in heaven, may the angel's bless you on your journey, and may you continue to speak your poetry in soul and spirit form,
May God bless you dedpoet, and have faith,
Your friend.
Brandon Cory Nagley...
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Ernesto L. Gonzales[aka DedPoet) dedication
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 12:14 PM UTC
Jack jumped last night.
We might have expected it
had we not been so unsuspecting.
Those blue periods of his,
I'm sure you've witnessed one,
were walled in somewhat by the
swelling tides of years
and years
and years.
When they came, they were
quelled by the very occasional red mark.
These punctuations
when they mercifully visited
would open doors for him, in
which our brother, neighbor,
father discovered strange liquid
tendencies to ailing strength.
Too many blank-out nights
could find him and his new
battery bickering the old childhood
verses. Too many four-of-the-clocks
would cue the choragos his
specter-critic's eye to deign a
Plan on our friend's blue
stationary.
A smile might have
mailed it straight ahead.
Perhaps it was last week when the
boat met the shore, some heinous
delivery of packaged, patent-business
sealed reformation, salvation.
In the midst of his violet smile
the cogent steam engine had a chute
into which it might heartily crash.
However it came remains to be seen.
What we have all seen this morning
remains our family's chief export.
Jack jumped last night.
He ascended the hill with his red hands
full of ****** punctuation marks, and
he spouted full-rehearsed
all those lines he'd learned in
grade school. Like a prolix
Gertrude complaining of her thirst.
And with the singularity of purpose
that haunts even the sharpest eyes,
he completes the trek to his three-foot tall Kusinagara
with his asthma wrapped around his neck.
Victory is a queer bird. Its song is never heard
the whole way through.
He breathes in weightlessness,
regains his bearing and waits for the
lines to quiet down. No one should leave
in the middle of a recitation, regardless
of the quality. At last, "Richard Cory"
reaches his terminal syllable and
our dearest man searches for his place in the music.
And it's just a minute,
just a minute,
just a minute,
jumps.
Jack jumped last night
Just as he said he would,
And had we heard him say it
We'd have thought "He could. He could."
Feb 24, 2010
Feb 24, 2010 at 6:49 PM UTC
Peter (my bf) and I are at Heraclee beach for the weekend.
It’s a little sliver of heaven, about 11 miles south of Saint Tropez.
It’s too early in the season to swim - being breezy and 72°f -
but it’s still the beach. I’m a neophyte beach ***
but I’m willing and eager to learn.
I’m valuable even if I’m not being productive [I self-affirm].
something poetic-ish..
*The sun’s a drowsy tyrant, not yet willing to unforgivingly scorch.
The beach is like glistening sugar, the sand still cool enough to walk, rogue west winds occasionally whip it to an ankle stinging sandpaper.
Majestic umbrella pines are dancing the hula. The shrub-like understory is dominated by drought-tolerant lavenders and rosemary that dense the air with perfume which complements the mediterranean brine.
There’s laughter, off somewhere, like wind-chimes playing clear, just above the ever-roiling sound of the surf. Birds are everywhere, gulls walk around like they’re bored, cory float on air, like kites and petrels skim against the wind, centimeters above choppy waves.
The beach isn’t crowded - French kids are still in school - but a few hardy, oiled, bronzed and sculpted bodies are sprawled on the pristine sand, like offerings to the god of leisure.*
Our hotel has its own private cove, with adirondack wooden lounges under yellow parasols. Pastel blue-vested wait-staffers circle, on the quarter-hour, eager to please.
“Deux (two) American Martinis, S'il te plaît! (please),” I ask, expectantly.
It’s a **** beach, but Peter got an alarmed look when I joked I might go ******* “Annick (my older sister) always goes ******* I informed him.
“I’d like to see that,” he’d chuckled, and when I gave him a raised eyebrow, he amended, “That came out wrong.”
.
.
songs for this..
Summer of Our Love by Triangle Sun
That life by Unknown Mortal Orchestra
The kiss of Venus by Dominic Fike, Paul McCartney
May 27, 2024
May 27, 2024 at 1:29 PM UTC
R.I.P.
R.I.P. to those who were shot,
R.I.P. to those who were killed serving for any country,
R.I.P. to those who overdosed on drugs or medication,
R.I.P. to those who died of suicide,
R.I.P. to those who died of natural causes,
R.I.P. to those who died of STD's, cancer, mitochondrial infections, ect.
R.I.P. to those who were not paying attention while driving or crossing the road,
And R.I.P. to those who had no choice of life or death.
Please, just Rest In Peace.
❤We love you Cory Monteith, 1982-2013❤
Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 8:17 PM UTC
i.
Michar, Oer'len-
Lavokri, proment;
ii.
Pravickle gla shoviet
Shoviet crunce du;
zeftar mun acopolli,
vas dae ba-la shu.
iii.
Marantash sodetti
Grasvantas, blinta
Yeshatari klevo's.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane sardua Nagley ( àgapi mou) dedicated
You must read bottom while reading poem for words meanings.
Thanks Brandon. And to all my readers thank you dearly for your support! I thank all of you for your support and kindness and love. Your fellow poet
Brandon Cory Nagley.....
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 9:00 PM UTC