"creational" poems - Hello Poetry

I shalt taketh her to the tadpole galaxy Than to hoag's object Than we shalt bypass the whirpool galaxy Than onto sombrero's bright swirl..... Than onto the pinwheel galaxy Wherein we shalt be its pinballs, Than up against the blackness of God's curtain of the universe abroad.... Onto the Andromeda, LMC to, than the milky way, earth's creational dust brew.... Bode galaxy shalt open us, to terrace of the aura, I shalt swayeth with mine home (mi amour') of distant mascara.... Yet she needeth no mascara, for her eye's art already arousing, **** elegant picture's, a model made in birth, her poetic stature's daily groweth bigger....her look's art a trigger, to take thee to thy face, making thee SEEITH dream's of thing's of holy grace!!!! An elegant being, with the spirit of an eagle, she soar's me to planet x, she's pure..... The opposite of evil!!!!!!

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Jul 6, 2015

Jul 6, 2015 at 11:12 PM UTC

brandon-nagley

Galaxy de mi amour(Galaxy of mi amour') french tongue

I shalt taketh her to the tadpole galaxy Than to hoag's object Than we shalt bypass the whirpool galaxy Than onto sombrero's bright swirl..... Than onto the pinwheel galaxy Wherein we shalt be its pinballs, Than up against the blackness of God's curtain of the universe abroad.... Onto the Andromeda, LMC to, than the milky way, earth's creational dust brew.... Bode galaxy shalt open us, to terrace of the aura, I shalt swayeth with mine home (mi amour') of distant mascara.... Yet she needeth no mascara, for her eye's art already arousing, **** elegant picture's, a model made in birth, her poetic stature's daily groweth bigger....her look's art a trigger, to take thee to thy face, making thee SEEITH dream's of thing's of holy grace!!!! An elegant being, with the spirit of an eagle, she soar's me to planet x, she's pure..... The opposite of evil!!!!!!

10

Thou art but a clone, to gods other half, thou art his child, a creational blessed. Thou art part of his image, thou hast forgotten that truth, thou art him, as tis, he is thou to!!!

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Jun 16, 2015

Jun 16, 2015 at 12:27 PM UTC

brandon-nagley

clones de dios ( clones of god,) spanish tongue

Thou art but a clone, to gods other half, thou art his child, a creational blessed. Thou art part of his image, thou hast forgotten that truth, thou art him, as tis, he is thou to!!!

2

i. Reyna, we art, and thus alway's wilt be, king and queen wreathed by unrevealed novel thing's; A reality, no fantasy nor dream, as ourn amour' steam's and ring's like bell's in chapel holiness. ii. Ourn d.n.a is a map of all creational construction, showing God's hand's whom hast created ourn function's; We yearneth for another from afar, mine Jane, mine pet, we shalt soon together maketh ourn children on star's. iii. O' from the empyrean, O' from the empyrean we shalt glanceth Mars. Ourn heart's large, as ourn eye's pierce through another; wayfarer's we shalt be in the angelic city. With golden street's below ourn feet, none demonic fearing's nor pity, vesture of the trace of ourn creator's trinity. Viol and harp symphonies, high class and richy shalt we dance, None currency needed. The poor here shalt be standing first, as the greed-seeker's last, no tear drained pain's nor stab's, no mishap's. Just rainbow's that reflecteth garment's and robe's from the heavenly host's that carry sword's to keepeth the fallen fiend's out. iv. The entryway covered by rock's that sparkled back on earth in the opulent man's view, though here this scene is for me and thou; for the homeless to, as tis we shalt be renewed in ourn kiss of eternal life, all day here, no night. For God here is the light that the earthling's hath forgotten. ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl jane Nagley dedication-Filipino rose

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Nov 13, 2015

Nov 13, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC

brandon-nagley

Viol and harp symphonies

i. Reyna, we art, and thus alway's wilt be, king and queen wreathed by unrevealed novel thing's; A reality, no fantasy nor dream, as ourn amour' steam's and ring's like bell's in chapel holiness. ii. Ourn d.n.a is a map of all creational construction, showing God's hand's whom hast created ourn function's; We yearneth for another from afar, mine Jane, mine pet, we shalt soon together maketh ourn children on star's. iii. O' from the empyrean, O' from the empyrean we shalt glanceth Mars. Ourn heart's large, as ourn eye's pierce through another; wayfarer's we shalt be in the angelic city. With golden street's below ourn feet, none demonic fearing's nor pity, vesture of the trace of ourn creator's trinity. Viol and harp symphonies, high class and richy shalt we dance, None currency needed. The poor here shalt be standing first, as the greed-seeker's last, no tear drained pain's nor stab's, no mishap's. Just rainbow's that reflecteth garment's and robe's from the heavenly host's that carry sword's to keepeth the fallen fiend's out. iv. The entryway covered by rock's that sparkled back on earth in the opulent man's view, though here this scene is for me and thou; for the homeless to, as tis we shalt be renewed in ourn kiss of eternal life, all day here, no night. For God here is the light that the earthling's hath forgotten. ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl jane Nagley dedication-Filipino rose

11

We all saw you on TV. See we all felt you, on TV. We effectually react/ or change the channel. Seeing with, you and I, we seeing we share science, we know bits of many common childhood mystery religion moralizing stories, animating representative good and evil having beings, eaters of roots and seeds; eaters of blood, raw flesh; eaters of the processed meat, made from what clams eat, while making pearls worth the merchant's speculation, see, look, if this pearl were thine to own, yours alone. If this pearl were thine, to form using layering lightflex laminate fluid to form, smooth curve force to mollify vitious spikes as one creature soothes the pain caused, when a certain signal calls for pearling, biometric symbiotic gnosisnot using a natural pattern found in viscous, snottish fluids flowing just above the bottom line reality, priced per one man estimated ethos, may haps, taken and called granted, per happenstance, standing, there take it, weigh the worth, at least, it cost you this much attention, and left an edge to look over… take this thought, taste test, notice salt, hmmm. -- such taste, sweet -- such taste sharp, and bitter… Notice sticky hook to any attention paid -- remember, re member reading for all the roles… This Is Your Life, unforgiveable forethought odd after effect. -- taste and see, we all are good, our lies are evil. Novels in genres, are stories in familiar feeling places. The realmmmm re-creational master of monstors degrees, stages, steps, tic to last held thought, ties to all held thoughts, - who buys horror and shame hero stories? - who buys cops are Platonic Guardians stories? - who buys we, that people, are stories? Vicarious as the pope, we feel the ef in efforting to display the glory of knowing. - ceasing to effect the art's official form of love, - sincere affection, effectively applied plasterwise. Nothing new, sort of classless, drivel, driving assumptives sorted on commonalities, professional confession, yes, we guessed you exist, so we said I do this for money, or no, I do this to make pearls, when something in me is grinding at my gut, make, make, make me, a pearl none shall ever see, make me, think. On earth, as in my own peace of mind, let it be. Awen. Amen, and all the other translations of make it so.

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Dec 15, 2022

Dec 15, 2022 at 2:50 PM UTC

kenpepiton

Covideo Recognosis

We all saw you on TV. See we all felt you, on TV. We effectually react/ or change the channel. Seeing with, you and I, we seeing we share science, we know bits of many common childhood mystery religion moralizing stories, animating representative good and evil having beings, eaters of roots and seeds; eaters of blood, raw flesh; eaters of the processed meat, made from what clams eat, while making pearls worth the merchant's speculation, see, look, if this pearl were thine to own, yours alone. If this pearl were thine, to form using layering lightflex laminate fluid to form, smooth curve force to mollify vitious spikes as one creature soothes the pain caused, when a certain signal calls for pearling, biometric symbiotic gnosisnot using a natural pattern found in viscous, snottish fluids flowing just above the bottom line reality, priced per one man estimated ethos, may haps, taken and called granted, per happenstance, standing, there take it, weigh the worth, at least, it cost you this much attention, and left an edge to look over… take this thought, taste test, notice salt, hmmm. -- such taste, sweet -- such taste sharp, and bitter… Notice sticky hook to any attention paid -- remember, re member reading for all the roles… This Is Your Life, unforgiveable forethought odd after effect. -- taste and see, we all are good, our lies are evil. Novels in genres, are stories in familiar feeling places. The realmmmm re-creational master of monstors degrees, stages, steps, tic to last held thought, ties to all held thoughts, - who buys horror and shame hero stories? - who buys cops are Platonic Guardians stories? - who buys we, that people, are stories? Vicarious as the pope, we feel the ef in efforting to display the glory of knowing. - ceasing to effect the art's official form of love, - sincere affection, effectively applied plasterwise. Nothing new, sort of classless, drivel, driving assumptives sorted on commonalities, professional confession, yes, we guessed you exist, so we said I do this for money, or no, I do this to make pearls, when something in me is grinding at my gut, make, make, make me, a pearl none shall ever see, make me, think. On earth, as in my own peace of mind, let it be. Awen. Amen, and all the other translations of make it so.

62

Summer calling in August, for the bird named after Saints. There is a befitting proposition for them both, the season and the bird. She is offered to fall in love for a day, for less than a day, and in so many words, she does. Two migratory birds dove into hopes and dusted dreams, Picked the salt form old wounds, binding and mending, singing loss, Crafting off of creational dust, making new things. The their giving and giving, given into spent, like pendulums swing. Nature has tricks up her sleeve, and her hopes and promises are not the hopes of promises we keep. Flying, looking for something over the water. Wanting under depths of wanting, under depths of imaginations. The two got stuck deep in the chemical dreaming of songs that played pretend. The heat lost in the sun, and the season dies in a shell of milky Indifference. Birds swoop for signs in the air, flying and hoping that something would land in their narrow mouths so that they may go home and go to sleep. They glide on. Hoping for ends to their broken songs, dipping and diving farther and farther away, with the batting of imagined wings behind their backs.

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Apr 6, 2013

Apr 6, 2013 at 3:15 PM UTC

andrew-chau

Equionox

Summer calling in August, for the bird named after Saints. There is a befitting proposition for them both, the season and the bird. She is offered to fall in love for a day, for less than a day, and in so many words, she does. Two migratory birds dove into hopes and dusted dreams, Picked the salt form old wounds, binding and mending, singing loss, Crafting off of creational dust, making new things. The their giving and giving, given into spent, like pendulums swing. Nature has tricks up her sleeve, and her hopes and promises are not the hopes of promises we keep. Flying, looking for something over the water. Wanting under depths of wanting, under depths of imaginations. The two got stuck deep in the chemical dreaming of songs that played pretend. The heat lost in the sun, and the season dies in a shell of milky Indifference. Birds swoop for signs in the air, flying and hoping that something would land in their narrow mouths so that they may go home and go to sleep. They glide on. Hoping for ends to their broken songs, dipping and diving farther and farther away, with the batting of imagined wings behind their backs.

13

i. Creation's not of mistake, nor of Natural selection, we art not of Darwinian theory, nor of temporal direction. ii. We slumbereth neath the gipseian bleujaday, captured By the great painter's hand; King and queen of the mid- Night crave, wax of glim's On crystal stands. iii. Eurasian ether, creational Blend, the mountain's do Shaketh, when heavesia Commends. ©Brandon Nagley ©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedicated ©Lonesome poets poetry

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Jan 31, 2016

Jan 31, 2016 at 9:03 PM UTC

brandon-nagley

Heavesia commend's

i. Creation's not of mistake, nor of Natural selection, we art not of Darwinian theory, nor of temporal direction. ii. We slumbereth neath the gipseian bleujaday, captured By the great painter's hand; King and queen of the mid- Night crave, wax of glim's On crystal stands. iii. Eurasian ether, creational Blend, the mountain's do Shaketh, when heavesia Commends. ©Brandon Nagley ©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedicated ©Lonesome poets poetry

20

Claustrophobic Cockroaches in corners Concrete slabs Clutching, cloaking, choking Confined and Constrained of a Counterfeit life, I was the perfect Charlatan of my encompassing separation. Compelled into Self, oh yet Cumbersome conditioning Cultivating awareness within Concentrated compression. I, Cave! Capitulation. Cannot withstand these Currents of clouded Compensation. Comfortable in this Chaos, as I've finally Concluded: It comprises all of me. Completely void Contently Containing nothing, Clear from attached perceptions Captivating Silence. Come through me Crawl into my Caverns Crash unto my shore Caressing sensuality Continuously Cascading down, down, down Composing my entirety.

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Jul 15, 2020

Jul 15, 2020 at 6:00 AM UTC

magus

Creational Constant

Claustrophobic Cockroaches in corners Concrete slabs Clutching, cloaking, choking Confined and Constrained of a Counterfeit life, I was the perfect Charlatan of my encompassing separation. Compelled into Self, oh yet Cumbersome conditioning Cultivating awareness within Concentrated compression. I, Cave! Capitulation. Cannot withstand these Currents of clouded Compensation. Comfortable in this Chaos, as I've finally Concluded: It comprises all of me. Completely void Contently Containing nothing, Clear from attached perceptions Captivating Silence. Come through me Crawl into my Caverns Crash unto my shore Caressing sensuality Continuously Cascading down, down, down Composing my entirety.

32

# In awe of nature high on its vigor Shadows dancing through dark forests of my mind thunder breaks open the sky lightning pours down from the heavens with relieving sigh I am struck down by creational forces the only god I need cause she is none Nature won't bow there's no need just go run with its wild horses Stop fearing what was yours from the day you were put in this earth just like a seed All is one I am one and I am all I feel the storm raging on Inside me and all around Hold onto the winds for I am bound to this chance of living and I am not afraid of what nature is giving This macrocosm this moving world the ground on which I'm standing There's nothing in pain no being can harm you all will be overgrown all enemies will eventually be slain There's no need to hide your darkness or your light No, I promise, I won't I won't be terrified #

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Sep 22, 2018

Sep 22, 2018 at 6:34 AM UTC

Blade-Maiden

The only savior I need

# In awe of nature high on its vigor Shadows dancing through dark forests of my mind thunder breaks open the sky lightning pours down from the heavens with relieving sigh I am struck down by creational forces the only god I need cause she is none Nature won't bow there's no need just go run with its wild horses Stop fearing what was yours from the day you were put in this earth just like a seed All is one I am one and I am all I feel the storm raging on Inside me and all around Hold onto the winds for I am bound to this chance of living and I am not afraid of what nature is giving This macrocosm this moving world the ground on which I'm standing There's nothing in pain no being can harm you all will be overgrown all enemies will eventually be slain There's no need to hide your darkness or your light No, I promise, I won't I won't be terrified #

44

the rainbow lorikeet is evidence of a creational dichotomy a bird of feathers, bright and sweet but with a of voice of snickering raucousness undeniable, universal proof: you can't have it all!!!

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Mar 30, 2014

Mar 30, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC

betterdays

proof

the rainbow lorikeet is evidence of a creational dichotomy a bird of feathers, bright and sweet but with a of voice of snickering raucousness undeniable, universal proof: you can't have it all!!!

8