Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
brandon nagley Jul 2015
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!!!!!!
When I say her looks are a trigger to bring you to your face I mean she's overly **** and beautiful making one pass out from her beautiful looks ():  oh so you know alll these names I gave are real galaxies ():
Jess Jul 2020
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.
Jul 11, 2020
Broody Badger Mar 2017
A pair of phantoms hands
clasped and held to center
Symmetrical as Hell.
They pull apart and in their wake drift embers sparks and calcite.
Colors where these hands just were make-out and roll around; they leave their imprints and their stains when they are done.
Out of the unwashed we arrived
A symptom of passionate cries.
None comes from creation besides the thing that we made, just pray that it is ugly in all the right places—we pray, but not I, me, I make eyes at the mirror and punish myself until Hell's tides become shallow ends against mine—then frivolous, yank myself from sinking lifeboat to cloud-nine,
Let helping hand erase my demons, baby, I must be omniscient because I just personally faced damnation and swift rapture all within one bathroom trip.        
I am my own savior
You are the deity I suffer for.
For whom I could create under conditions of such self destruction and from you only disassurances to fuel my flame; watch it ignite
then go out,
Me in a panic,
Rolling newspaper together, heaving in the embers—making winds to toss that heat around, frantic cause I feel the maelstrom tossing inside me and it is quiet, nervous, commonly occurring. You can avoid all of that if you just GO.
No destruction required.
No promises of plans gone unmet if you never promised.
I only exist if you see me
Now shut your eyes: this is the remedy for lame creations.
I will still see you, Deity
You will still make fun of me if I am visible; I will sell fragments of my truth to the same machine that I loathe, and it will churn that truth to muck, my spirit to a discard pile, while my heart and the entirety of my body will belong to you.
Watch dust gather on my lashes as my eyes wait for a clever opening.
Aren't my thoughts eerily possessive?
I think I want to be one of your things so I can watch all of your successes from the shelf, and cover my eyes when you have visitors
Pretend I am a man to you
Not just something that your curiosity alone birthed. What is this blind responsibility I throw at you?
Myself I do not fully recognize, but I won't censor what seems logical to me, though visibly unhealthy.
I'm just trying to explain because avoiding didn't work: you are all that I think about. So much for NEW, maybe improved is still within me.

Ok.
I'm sorry for all of that. Believe it or not I have been trying to be less dramatic lately. Honestly it has been a very long time since feeling comfortable in here. You raided my thoughts long before I ever considered finishing the ******* thought
And then you left, so everything I ever/never said (or read or showed or wrote) to you was wrong and I had to change myself accordingly.
According to every flaw that I could find in myself. Income trouble.
Kids my age aren't supposed to go inward, they are programmed to ****, **** up, and forget. Success is just around the corner!
Don't worry, I'll go back to poetry format soon because this reality **** as it turns out is pretty depressing.
I think we need the
many moany broodings of a teenager who is white and straight—can't even write straight with this inky, ****** pen. That joke works better if you can physically see my notebook and the smudgy black Hell that it embodies. Seriously, it looks like some grabby octopus with parkinson's and seasonal mood swings tried to write the word "parkinsons" in here and then spent four to five hours sobbing about their meaningless existence and self-harming—just deep enough to make the ink drip out and fall into a pattern, maybe good enough to read aloud in public spaces which I would consider an honor in and of its
wobble and of the nerves that fire in like some unsteady chorus.
Still not good enough to sell. So bruised, so heady, Please Howard almighty I am ready
To be shot down in wave after wave of this stupidity. Oh how embarrassing it would be to face a firing squad if she could see; how could I ever imitate your immortality or even just your shine...
Here! More Pretty Words!
Pressure builds and compresses the body performs more or less—a little shaky.
The DANGER is in the mind right next to the safety.
Beneath the skull there is a small office-room plastered with disheveled documents, maybe important, the ones that I hired to clean up in there are actually four well fed cats, using the pages for their waste and spending their days pledging to untangle an endless, brain-sized ball of thread but—you know. at some point.
Right?
Like once they figure out that their cheap new carpeting is getting redder and redder the more that they tug on it. And—also they need to learn the color RED right after we have a professional explain to them what colors are.
Oh! Also. That they are ******* CATS!
Wait—don't leave. Please don't leave!
Wait.
I'll be relatable.                     Wait.
I will only say handsome things.        Wait.
I'll pretend that I am not thinking about you even when your breath is pumping somewhere within the same enclosed facility as mine is.        Wait—
I will shorten my sentences significantly.
You won't even know it's me
Or that my lips could be so sure of anything
While my tongue so eager to betray.
brandon nagley Jun 2015
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!!!
brandon nagley Jul 2015
Me and mine inamorata shalt travel to the nine known planet's of the earth's solar system.........

See me and her born on different places, she was born on the crescent moon between a thousand or more ages,as tis I was birthed in a place not yet discovered by mere creature's in the milky way galaxy's center hole......as tis I spent much time on Saturn as well, as also I sat and watched comet's maketh love whilst on top of mine Libra scale's....... Each side of mine horoscopal scale I couldst seeith the good and bad of the universe how God balanced out all....... Me and mi amour' met somewhere in the middle of all this creational love making,. So we ventured into planet Pluto, the ninth from the sun, cold rocky and yet we succumbed to the little hidden caves wherein we madeth graffiti on its slate, writing ourn names ( King, and queen of old) as tis we were relic soul's.....than we flew off to planet Neptune discovered in 1846 by mere human's though it's whirlwind's tried to subdue us, yet me and her's wings overcame that ( Roman God of water)....After we were done ice searching there we went on to Uranus, the seventh planet from the sun, it has methane to cover it's surface, just found by human's in 1781, previously thought by man to be a star, on one side its heated by the hot star for over eighty-four life years, so we couldst not stayeth on one side for to long, me and mi amour's wings would be crisp..... So next we went onto planet number six (Saturn) mine favorite planet of this solar system, as tis I wanted to give mine amare all the ring's of the planet to taketh them and put one of them on her finger, she was amazed by mine love and dedication to her, Though as we all know those rings art far to big.. Though we broke into Saturn as its helium stratus filled ourn lungs, we giggled and chuckled, laughing so high we stumbled on ourn own love....such a beautiful laugh she doth haveth... We left that laugh box of a place and moved onto The fifth planet Jupiter, mine mother's own planet by birth and astrology, it was a huge planet with many moons, as mi amour' sure loveth her moon's... She danced upon the moon's like an old muse turning 3 again, as tis I was high off the helium that hast entered me with no end. For this planets helium overtook me in a fancy sense... Laughing I couldn't stop as mine lover had to taketh me away from that large ball... Than we journeyed onto planet mars (number four from the sun..) A place mankind hath been fascinated with from long ago...me and mine sweetheart couldst smell its iron blood smell that giveth this planet its cruor deserted look.... Storms were on its dreary horizon, as tis we saweth old pyramids, similar to the Egyptian ones back on the human planet earth, we noticed such similarities between the two planet's, yet it seemed as any being's here just packed up and left everything to go to hell, yet funny part is, humans haven't left their planet, they still art there letting it go to hell by their own means, and purposely, what foolishness.... So as Mars swirling storms started dragging on in, mine amare saved me from the funnel and pulled me by her appendage away from that thing.... Moving onto planet number three from the sun ( earth) as thou all shalt know it as... See, me and mi amour' cometh here time to time by choice to showeth human being's the meaning of ( amour') other times we art forced here by God, I like to think to learn from ourn mistakes, but me and her always meet no matter how long we must wait for another. And no matter how far the distance ... Anyways, here on this lifeful planet, me and her discovered the most beautiful things of the solar system, that's what makes earth so grand.... The mountains, seas, creature's, human being's, poet's, artists, musicians, animals, trees, and her favorite part is......... Seeing the earth's moon standing next to her favorite quarry in her favorite spot....it melts mine heart just to seeith her smile... Knowing though me and her don't belong to this place, I shalt cometh back more just to see her watch her moon... That's heaven seeing her happy to me... So when leaving we moved onto Venus the second from the sun, considered the ( Roman goddess of love and beauty) its pressure is to strong so it wouldst crush us... So we just floated above it to see it was alot like earth, same structure and size... We didint stay there long.. Me moved onto Mercury, closest planet to the human sun. Mercury hath no atmosphere, so though me and mi amour' art not all human, but spiritual beings to, we couldst still land on the planet ... Though it's rocks that always belted it we hadst to watcheth for.... The planet looked in a way like earth's moon... A dangerous place to be . So we escorted eachother off... Though to scientist beings back on planet earth only nine planets art considered to be in this solar system, yet fully they art finding now there couldst be really thirteen and possibly more to be discovered.... But me and mi amour' left this solar system to travel other's... We went to ourn own made just for the two of us ..... It's title and name is ( Mi amour' X) a place  God made for just me and her .. Only me and her know wherein its at.. See , thou wouldst haveth to go through the middle of thy own Milky way galaxy to get there....

And that's not possible to humans.....
As tis we must return
To ( Mi amour' X)




©By-Brandon Cory nagley-Lonesome poet's poetry....
brandon nagley Nov 2015
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
Viol in biblical days was like a violin...
empyrean means heavens... Or has to do with sky...
vesture archaic form means like clothed in or arrayed..
opulent man- also meaning wealthy man.... Opulent means wealthy rich so on.. (:;;
the tarnished amour of the we little she, he and yes, the you in me.

Pix elated images vibratory frequency of the flicker rate,
the resolution in its #x# scale and aspect ratio,

silly how we utter this vibe from the heart, vocal in rounded grounded sounded,
these words, we symbolize, individualize, characterize, initialize, authorize,
these thoughts and concepts of need and purpose, of intent, of desired effect/affect, for reason and yes even a ******* resolution.

Yet is the resolutions we seek through intended deeds and understandings of these choppy rounded uttered babbled bastardized thought into the realm of physical and manifest from the electric thoughts of our seeming lone and lonely worlds of the pitch black of the inner parts of the skull and brain so gelatinous and electro- chemically factory of the mind through the spine and the Ark of the Covenant through the helix of a Jacobs Lattered spiral stair way to heaven , is it really ******* that we have in mind of resolution? or is it te failings of this duality we have created in the love of the out pouring of our creator into this silly illusion of vibrations reflection as our truth Experiences its creations through the very minds eye of our torn , broken and forgiving hearts a blaze?

I say, need not worry of a long sentence where the heart speaks without punctuation, anticipation, nor retaliation for rendered intent, for we utilize what is of truth and all things are of God and only in existence by the living will of Love which is your conscious creator and father, tree from which our seeds of lineage do come and a family tree that deeds us all kingdoms and lands where our hearts rule endlessly and in the glory of free thought and will al in the love of learning  and remembering we never have left the garden and the heart of our creator, see the remote of this reality is the illusion, we are only all and all only the one in the dim witted yet learning love of the consciousness of the one source, our facts an truths self evident on that day soon to come for us all, wt en we snap our heads to the right in a sudden **** to realize  ***, it is truly that simple? it was all that simple? oh my, yes, just as kindergarten, where we learned, Nothing is that difficult, the only thing difficult is the us in interaction with all of existence and the flow of what is already and always has been and never was, the never never of the always has been son. the You in me, the me in you and the we in this most truly intelligent, patient, kind and everlasting life of labored and growing love of the one true creator the all , the great spirit, the Lord, the soul one, so true, the all in all and the us all in you as you witness the beauty of you in the heart of the ever growing and thriving source of all, **** friend I love you too, and you love my *** too, and together we are both silly children and foolish in ever forgetting to believe less of the truth of miracles and the in a blink of an eye reality of the garden of dreams we stand, you there, me here, and nothing but love in the in between.

Not forgoing the risk that you just might fear the reality that you are a big softy and only dislike the hearts and unicorns shooting rainbows from their arses because you find little love in what man has created, well, son, brother, sister, sit down and lets talk for a second, consider this,
all things are created by God and thus made out of pure sound of the love pouring from the trunk of this tree of life, and if you i intend to harm another ******* in the world with one of Gods Creational vibrations with your creations of will and thought , then remember that God superseded your silly ***, by allowing that hate filled intent of harm  is made from love and the intent can be stripped from the truth of weight, pain, burden, causation for another to doubt themselves ( lets be honest, this is the flat truth, you can not cause true harm without the other allowing themselves to believe the creations purpose.) and in that be harmed by a creation from you using the love of God , for you can not create **** nor anything exist outside of the love and sound of Gods being and truth, so, yeah, next time you are hurt by another's actions and deed, remember, you are a creator in this love of God too, and you can strip the intent from all things man and take it to the original truth, Gods love for you as you learn and grow in this bizarre place of day dreams we have fancied ourselves helpless too, **** we can be silly and foolish but, we will never be undone nor destroyed in the image of the face of God for we are all made of the sound of Gods love for all existence.

and thus , if you don't agree, then, thanks for playing , lol, listening that is, and realize you are free to believe what ever, and i too am in this fact self evident, and in this one rule is the only consistent, harm none, least you be harmed. for out of the eater comes meat and from the strong comes a soft hand.
and in that, my friends, is where i stand.

and that is why all the tarnish and stains and marred marks of battles won and lost, will lift and flutter away as cherry blossoms in the wind on a summers windy day. and shine, you will, and counted we do make, for we are here to learn and grade one anothers efforts to stay in line with the core rules, and never, even, are we out of the you in me and the me in you. wink, smile and by the way, thank you for the small things , for they are truly the biggest of things in the cy re of self evident and good.

Badger Crow Moon/ Ricci Dale Moon Scott Oct/12/2015 12:04 PM
Moon Walk ✗☽彡☾✗☰ Trigram Heaven , may we all have equal chance to prove we can harm no one and create true and in love and growth of the Tree of life of Gods loving heart song of us all.
DMX Prayer 1 - 5
h ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0V2fh8cpb8w

DMX Lord give me a sign lyrics
h ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DE9mc0XcFAs

DMX 2010 THE PRAYER
h ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C1SjVKv86V8

DMX - Lord We Thank you
h ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=95z7FQdr8wk
Moon Walk ✗☽彡☾✗☰ Trigram Heaven , may we all have equal chance to prove we can harm no one and create true and in love and growth of the Tree of life of Gods loving heart song of us all.

couldn't help it, lol
h ttp://hdwallpapers.cat/wallpaper/samurai_cowboy_cherry_tree_sword_lonely_sun_hd-wallpaper-953548.jpg

and
h ttp://img0.reactor.cc/pics/post/full/Metal-Music%26Atmosphere-ROTTENGRAFFTY-coldrain-1698003.jpeg

And yes, I see the love, and please know , if i miss something, it is not for lack of truly wanting to enjoy, no, we find a rescue in them in fact, nor is it out of not finding tears in the joy of allowing the understanding that I too can be loved for simply being  what is simply foolish and silly  me, and that your thoughts and prayers, are a Miracle and a God Send through ways and means that cause my heart to ache in love, ache in true missing of you, thank you all.
brandon nagley Feb 2016
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
Natural selection- is The theory of its action was first fully expounded by Charles Darwin and is now believed to be the main process that brings about evolution.
Darwinian theory -Darwinism is a theory of biological evolution developed by the English naturalist Charles Darwin and others, stating that all species of organisms arise and develop through the natural selection of small, inherited variations that increase the individual's ability to compete, survive, and reproduce.. ( a man who had none god) not me!
Temporal- has to do with the world. Wordly things..
Gipseian- relating to gypsies.
Bleujaday- is a word I made up on mine own, it means in the blue of the day, or blue day. I meant blue day.
Glims- are ancient candles or lanterns.. Archaic word.
Eurasian- mix of european and Asian parentage.
Ether- the clear sky; the upper regions of air beyond the clouds.
heavesia is another word I made up- it means.. Heaven and Asia coming together... (::::::
Commends or commend- praise formally or officially. ( praises)
Andrew Chau Apr 2013
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.
Ken Pepiton Dec 2022
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.
The narrow focus keeps the hearth alight. Thank you for being my dear reader.
Poetic T Apr 2018
He loved the texture beneath his fingers, contorting folding
it into intricate forms. What was singular undefined,
now had purpose other than what it was before.
He would tear it clean, not displaying its violation that
its purity had been contaminated.
Weaving imagery into a form from what was a newly
developing formation. His thoughts were now as seen
before the eyes, yet when he was finished the beauty before
his eyes lingered for minuscule moments.

Then with the lighter fluid he would caress its form subtly
with this liquid, where once ridged edges they now wept in
collapsing embodiment of the features that defined its complexity.
And with but a finger and thumb, what could have been,
what was before him. But now struck igniting like
a momentary sun, a match lingered as if he was teasing this
inanimate object that feared neither its creation nor its demise.

He waited till it descended like a coffin knowing it was
about to be snuffed out from existence feeding on the
nourishment of this splinter until he felt it crave the flesh
which held upon it. Casting it on his creation,
it was dominated instantly in a flame that gorged
on its new found nourishment. Within moments his creation
and light were expended from this moment and all that
lingered in its place was a pile of grimy ash.

Where beauty had stemmed into creation, now there was
nothing but scarring of what was once adorned in this place.
He looked upon the world as unconditioned edges that
needed smoothing out in his own ideological view of the world.
To his eyes all was rough thoughts, and even more evading
unsymmetrical reflections of what needed straightening out.
Utilising his passion for formation he delved into the creation
of humanity, and with his still hand he decided to appreciate the
human form.

How with subtle tweaks it could be contorted in too a formation
of intricate beauty, not the stale silhouettes that graded his
sight, every motion like drones of imperfection.
He had to see what a rough endeavour would bear.
Either fruit, or a piece of artistic endeavour that would lie
crumpled disowned on the floor below.
It wasn't as easy as he had anticipated the cuts sublime but
flesh tethered to oblivion is nothing, and with each laceration
it became more of a farce than of creation.

He In frustration even though they had whimpered out there
last plea hours before he lunched at this vacant tapestry
ripping into it with the frustration, expelled source material
all over his being. He knew that this was collateral damage,
and for beauty to be formed there were going to be some
cuts that were to deep to mend. So with a sullen heart,
he cradled this fallen realization,that he needed to heed his own thoughts.

He put it in an old shopping trolley and ignited this fallen work, 
standing there feeding the congregation of two opposites.
What once was, now soot on charred grass below.
And to grade himself in books on contorting flesh and anatomy.

Needing ways that he could numb and silence flesh,without losing
the spark that wielded such beauty as it still breathed,
helping him with his creational form.
Time was evident on his further attributions, he had learnt as
one should in future accomplishments. One should learn from
past errors (mistakes) and the first was an abortion of realization.
He needed to find the inclination point where it would be how
his vision needed to be climaxed into form.

With this he had constructed a square metal frame with
segmented stages. Where he could divert this form from
humanity to his desired form.
He could not have just anyone, types or stereotypes.
One may ponder where his persuasion. Not overly skinny
or bigger proportions. For they would either tear from
the strain, or unable to contort to the desired and needed
formation of his vision that needed form.

But patience is a virtue and though it took time, he was able
to attain the needed instruments of creation.
Time was the essence he pondered, and it worked.
The frame was adjustable to expand or decrease the needed
distance and form. Now ready, so much time had passed,
but perfection isn't a clock that stays still, perfection is a movement
of time gradually showing us the motion of before now and after.

His untorn pieces, needing those of no tattoos, of no piercings.
As this would blemish his art, and either contort of split in a
time utter most delicate movements. His fingers were static
his mind as sharp as his tools to motivate this intricate
melody. He wore a ceremonial mask, as this wasn't something
to be taken lightly respect for the form and that of who
was being given this opportunity. In the background soft
instrumental music to expand his muse.

Knowing now where cuts would not induce the death of
this piece. Realizing a wrong furrow could just subjugate
this to a crumbled mess, no longer useful to him or life.
Bones were bent over time so not to break, but to contort
to his new form. Drips hung like tears, feeding the will
to live, even though they wanted to die. He furthered this
creative moment, finding himself smiling underneath
his mask.

Feeling alive again, this was his moment of creative mastery.
He started to peel flesh, this had to be in one sitting due to
the delicate time frame. What was pliable would become brittle
in form. ruining what had taken months to achieve.
The system he had set for this moment, a fine spray of
antibacterial moisturizing seeds of mist. Tt just the right level
so not to make the flesh tear or dry out and break.

It was finished, his art was realized. Now he had to display it.
But as with all creations an audience was needed.
So he cradled it gently, knowing this location would be vacant.
Calling the press on a throw away phone.
He called it, "Human Evolution" even thought it was
anything of the sort. And as cameras flashed, the world saw
his creation. And the horror of his mind contorted from reality.
On what fulfilment was contorted from perfection to this
origami muse of humankind.

Tears of Joy littered his hands, his fingers now shaking with
the anticipation that what was now done, could be done again.
When the news faded and where skin was folded,now there
was just a person. A contorted remembrance of what
humanity can achieve. Tears flow like floating paper boat
on a stream, this one hasn't sunk yet. But this was one of
many creations to come, for what is the body if not art
to be gazed upon.
Blade Maiden Sep 2018

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
betterdays Mar 2014
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!!!
Brian McDonagh Jun 2020
I have the greatest friendship
with a local Lutheran pastor
because of her willingness
to contribute her thoughts
for an article I hurriedly wrote and published in 2017
on the Protestant Reformation.
She also allowed me the next year
to vent and cry my social troubles to her
for four hours at her office,
like a mother addressing her child’s cry.
In the brief time I have known Pastor Karen,
she continues to be the most passionate person
about living life positively
and about praying for animals.
Pastors will talk creation
at services I attend,
but it’s not too often I hear ministers
set aside social intentions to specify creational matters
as a Sunday prayer.
Pastor Karen is such an important person for me to know,
Being the first woman and Protestant minister
I ever truly befriended.


An Office Depot employee named Matt
remembers my name.
Matt gives business interaction
a whole new meaning:
The secret to his successful customer interaction
is the genuine tone of his voice:
Matt’s voice sounds as though
talking gives him purpose,
while he listens just as sincerely
Happily anticipating relatable life scenarios
from customers.

Skylar,
my friend who works at a homeless shelter,
gives inspiration to young adults like me.
She radiantly exemplifies job loyalty
As house-monitor every weekend.
I usually drop by to hand over donation goods
such as toys for the younger females of the shelter
and foods as peanut butter (a favorite!), alkaline water,
chicken tenders, organic raisin bran cereals,
and toiletries as toilet paper and Kleenex.
There have been times though
where I wanted to just see her.
I told her how I felt, once,
directly asking her in her office
while she was sipping her latte
If she’d want to meet up outside the women’s shelter
for a date.
Skylar informed me that my gesture was sweet,
but she prefers being single out of her own choice.
Skylar likes being single.
No blame there.
Each time I visit,
she’s either helping a resident,
cooking a meal for all in-house patrons,
or in her office
doing administrative work.
Though I don’t see myself as a rule-follower
when it comes to religious teachings
as fasting
or simple slip-ups
as tracking shoes in the house,
the way Skylar abides by company policies
Reminds me that even being a free young adult
has its boundaries
and responsibilities
on and off the clock.

I’ve heard it said
That the world is one big family.
I don’t deny that statement,
but until I meet everyone around the world, in the jungles,
departed, yet to be,
the family I have
are the ones who remember me.
I am a son, a friend, and a rewards member.
Out of a couple prompt options once again, I slelcted to have this poem be about inspirational people to me.
TIM ANDREWS Aug 2019
I am already dead,
I tell them what they want to hear
I’m fine, thank you.
I love you
They assume that I am gushing,
Overflowing with love
But, am i?
I frighten them away,
I know that I shall act honourably
They know too, don’t they?
That I am a spaz
A dead spaz
But why didn’t you say?
Are you feeling better now?
Yes, I’m fine thank you
Look, I’m naked again,  
I cannot speak,
I cannot walk
I cannot go
I cannot come
I am inspirational, unoperational,
Sensational, creational
And
I am already dead
What a relief.
2019
Ken Pepiton Sep 2021
Procrastination on reaching
destination
national
notional global
we,
the people, the species joined
by virtue, the power in/of/for life, of
truth, the oomph that fixes first trys,

so oft ging awry, ai ai ai
so we suffer
woe is me
I am so lonely I could die robby robot voice

ping. Time to imagine reality from thought
through thoroughly thundering herds
headed el otro l'ow
wow
allowance, we bit o' flex, stop the flow, oh,
no
prop-blem-blame, right, a real bullet in a real gun did that,
when we were kids, three times,
none of those killed me, so
one more big bang.
DID it, a gain for the whole gang.
And the whole team sorts the peace from chaos.
Masks on, filters set to AlphaGo rules of longest game
ever
imagined, as now,
with one of us watching this written,
with one of us reading this written,
and all of us, the unity denominator, we
- focus, slow, finer detail one, mind
as fine as
ever
imagined, as now,
breathe and think how I wished this could be,
imagine being, long ago,
me, uh-oh slipped,double mind-error, nospace
fine tuned enough to learn of the hope
this is we manifest in /as vessels full from his
faith in the effort to accumulate all we ever knew
ever learning, the art of discerning soul from spirit
-- effort to think this was given to us long ago by
the unsung
second son of The Admiral of the Ocean Seas.

{in the realm of bubbling reality, where ******* is more
a character arc than char'cter trai t or trade, give ya this
for that… this is not what you thought was real, this is
the deal. We all think we make it with ourselves,
imagine-ing as we are wont, we actively think,
we be lieve we leave no trace, gone gone gone
yet words
surface, as stones on unsold desert lots scraped
by Patten's Tank's, then by the future home,
of the rebuilt London Bridge, said to have
fallen for this one line of reasoning alone to know
that bit
of all we think we know, avowt Lawn'dbridtches
fallen down fallen down fallen down

oh did we become corroded, yet we be, still eh, slow
reader
slow writer ride on…

first time in the temple, kid?
have you no id-east being in you, knowing, growing
as it occurs, id have donithadiknown
groan-ing ping, pragnanz, several days misinterpt, but
here's the now trick.

I live in Hernando Colon's actual functional imaginary
library, and I have developed an untimely urge
to fake the leaking dam, flash, rec- current or creational
flow
I have no wish to know.
So, on we go. Where were we?

Colon is the Columbus family name, in Spain,
all over, not only on the plain, or even
mainly there,
this stream of science used as knowing being
knowing where answers may
be found.
London Bridge,
mind map says the humming bird intaglio
has cousins here
scarred from wars of we and them,
all locked in unalienable rights to hide lies.

Site Six, magic fish caught on worms,
imagine that…
one single summer in all the ever summers,
this seed first spat.

Treasures hid in serpentine winding tales
of pattern forming
on surface of bubbles that survive the rise
in the ever watched *** that seldom,
but does, some times,
moments
instants
in contemplation
boil
over the top and sizzzzle on
the tongue a fire four times hotter
ai ai ai the spice from hell

says the actual signal accept-slot set in the thought
this hot
at this particular set
of sensors tongue to taste tell if we can or not,

if you swallow there will be grumbles
from below, takes half an hour to burn in the end.
..
spit it out, be the fool. Ever a role any pup can play.

-- dark inside

I am the emissary, aware am I, of certainty
in certain future wedoms,
when each sensitive bit is accounted worthy, eh,
pay attention
to how hot these peppers really are,
and why
in ever was such pain endured and acquired,
as a taste,
of what's t'come kid, fresh man can did, ate it, didn't I, wink
; didn't we all
think you can handle it. That is not a question
this is it,
this thought is thinking we can take it through to sane,

or settle in the first unfilled-in peace valley we find, hell,
we could build on any refuse pile, 'ernando did.
- dis associate sigs scramble cipher it through
- read on, make it make sane, not mad, push

Did not know but now do, there exists in my library,
a book, new,
a compilation of a trove found in the leavings of
a harmless second son of Christopher Columbus,
herein known as 'erna'do, ern-ado, ern-ator, old
Ern,
TV character, yes, reincarnation of id- the arranger alone
sorting **** from shinola, and loving the effect of Brasso
on buckles, vestigal symbols
bucklers, ala WWWhatever bouts of dance-viol-ent-ities
we imagine,
as bears once were baited and dogs bred to ****,
angels wrestled with, naked,
as apes.
Eh, Socrates imitator, asks the imitator of anointed gnosis
refusing the sign of the serpent stood tippy toe pointed west

with a swirl into the realm of his magi-ist existancy, ah, me
see, qwerty key aware, stories
so often as mousemade plans can, due to sudden constant cut off
telomeres, mere word effectuality, wanes,

as voices of the dead in Later do. S.King novel reference, for
future cultural harvest.\
wait. see. now, as the reader, we steer the story through
the straits of Magellan, as one of the final 18, into
rest, safe harbor
home for real
feel
right at home, taste these peppers we brought back
boom
AND we are from a culture who laughed goodheart laugh
of I did that, spitting image,
I did exactly that, I spat it out and said
to hell with this,
yes, been there done that come visit say, some
visitation day,
pay the preacher for the story was the story preacher told
don't tell,
it's the business side of things, the paperwork you know,
art informing actual imagining aiming am-ping right
at artistic intuition
ai ai ai
next, time you visit the temple, plan ahead.

Wait, contemplation is momentarily
on instance access only,
one instance per new book discovery, acknowledged
we haf enough no to find the remains of
wasted time thinging wron thinks

The Catalog of Shipwrecked Books,
and touched on
just in time

settled dust
exist-dance in the anonymous peace past understanding
or caring if you do, I slipped
om u dodo doodot doo doah, yeah
jazzy after hours clickity click
sig sent, see
see me se-ing open open open outside the whole damnedmall

personally we is an offensive pronoun to me, I feel we
as intimate-permanancy, the outer shell
of ever,
where the math goes kerouac and ****** if ginzberg
had no secretmeaning of shirtshatsatin, some dope
some hope howls
some day may
be as good as any man can make up his mind to be, and if
that mind be evil in intention, we arise

to twist it otherwise, the filters, to now from then,
instant speed of fingers on keys,
and soon, very soon, Elon says,
think
and the finding of the answer is done, boom. So die.

Then is is believed no error of double mind striving for balance,
balance is not how we roll at all,

this is still the same novel found on the diamond farm

the longest game, keeps Sisyphus happy,

see Camus gave some old guy I knew as a mind meld event
once, in a book I think I read as if it were being written
by my friend, Ben, from Ben and me, yes,
early evidence of Disneyifity activated sooner than Later.

The fading voices of the dead, that adds urgency, right
to know,
gotta know, gotta pass through-t the penetralium

thought through thoroughly, roughly any sense of knowing how
to find the answer to any question that comes to mind,
locked in, same as dead? nah, why try to live,
otherwise, try
as an alienated mind, mass accessible.

Tune-in, drop-out, some did,
some said they did, then the judge
mental
we begin to sort ourselves from first nibble, first taste, first
snakey lick, with a kick, whoa
this is too too too hot to just
give
away, go, shoo fly, you bother me, I have no rich and famous wish,
I waited to see why we ever get old,
see.
Ever is ever not every e-very e-ver-y ai ai ai hot wire signal to the sun
start my fire
I come to offer up another day in a paradaise I imagined after
the fact.
It is a knack included in the greater works than these clause,
if you find the time to imagine that, after all
is
said and done, my side won, and this is what I do for the rest
I earned by enduring to the end, let go, lose loose ends,
trust the knowledge, constantly forming information
conforming to the spirit of peace in knowing
everything
has been thought, and all the enjoyment we can imagine
is used through knowing grown all this time one root, you
think
you can know by kindness, all things, faster now,
faster thinking
taking time, to think more faster ab
rupturous break through

and, *******, life ***** the life right, right, fight right
good fight
semper, simperingwisherypuke, fi

del- phi-delit, it's us,
we lost the temple but brought the fire
from the alter,
?
what does that pretend to mean, you think,
JFK eternal flame, boom
we know you know, run, fustus wit 'd mostus make us
think war was glories once,
oh, yeah, don't we all know, the glory and honor of war,
bestowed on a nation
?
a nation of unalienable rights,
right things one pledging must believe,
pledged, owed. Dues as debt, must be paid,
- we-owe we,
- we- owe- we, clink chanting hammer ringinh'
- we- owe we, marching as to war appear
to cut the muster,
not the mustard, we must only make it through the morning
call to arms, we remain
ready, read-up, prayed up, writers
of the purple sage sayings saying each
time
write this, stroke, this jot,
this tittle, write it a little off
on the whole
no big deal, endless paper endless ink ever learning yet all the truth
holds, who can know,
as you hold certain truths your own self,
proper, eh ly or ty, own properly property
self, you, reader, me writer, they
the unknown NPCs
on the journey named
for a genuine mad man with a plan,
gone awry, as oft we do, on the name of a fool,
remembered from a history test
to determine earthling status
ai aye, yes, a fool is
a man who says in his heart,
there is no god,
there is a friend in truth, a love
in knowledge formed as caverns
formed to be as beautiful as any seer can imagine,
these walls of all our marvel dc sony wonder world
of utter global disineyification allows in
ABC- text in context, seeing

we visited the pilgrim stories, speed of thought, bits of citixery stick
think. We ought pay the reader,
but I am the reader, so we think together flocking,
feather-wise alienated mind
flock.
DIP switch set to master. Set D and E to slave.
Remember the last 26 terrabytes.

Now. This has been a Hissing humming tail of a long story,
warning, it has been told as many times as you may imagine,
ever being as it is, changing,
and all.

Mere words. All mere word pairs, can be re searched, this is 2021,
but you may think you knowit,
knowing wrong does not **** you if you can make it right,
in the end you must swallow the tiny pepper whole.

That is the secret, chose the smallest pepper, do not chew
do not spit, swallow the tale, tell it true, each telling lengthens

the attention span of a very rare we. Who make the discerned
soul and spirit function as a good, we know, is hard to get.
But easy to make from bits of idle cultural refuse
piled higher all the time.
A pass time that keeps me ready to die happy I got to the bowels of courage,
on the old stories told by masked men,
Degenerate you mysterious ***** into a whiny/preachy motivation
full of catabolical, cataclysmical, catechismical, cosmical chelation
that assails my punchiness with slap-happy whimsy minus negation
& apple produce in cider formulation that killed Adam's temptation
under God's Law, without Eve & Lilith, denyin' serpent procreation
in 2-player games, sans Lily & Eva, hoaxing a creational recreation

— The End —