"dayspring" poems
Fatima Latima
I had wished I had no gift of sight
That the worst I could endure is hear you speak
And not snapshot the footfall of your gradation
You may not be a thief
Nor **** daughter of the dayspring
But definitely my heart you stole
I speak of the daughter of Arabia
Aesthetically, she rocks
The queen of the pilgrim sands
And aeonian desert stones
Beyond the hijab
Artistically knead with consummate craft
Like the relics of Mecca
Blest by the prophet’s bones
The blessed
I see torches
Beaming with intelligence
Within those mascaras
Exquisitely trimmed and vibrant
A lulu class botany
She fixes a searching gaze
As she saunters close
And the stride and tread
Beats a drum entrancing
Soothed in her solacing spell
I give in, to her lullaby
She halts her perambulation
Stands magniloquent and stupefy
Like some pop diva magazine pose
Or Victorian secret shot
A tactical derangement of her gluteals
As she rests her palm in its cleft
I feel contractions, my dartos muscles
The blew of summertime
Gently beats her exceptional form
Her belt submerge her thigh crevice
Cleft by the sundered rift of fleshy fat
Built by the dainties and delicacies
Seasoned by the finest Arabian chef
As her silken dress slithers and gowns
Under the breeze bulging and blooming
Like a rose blossom or sunflower fore
As she bends down
To assuage the burlesque
The sun specula lilts her sensational
Her smile apologetic bids me stillness
I am caught staring
Guzzling down her scent and
Feasting on empty imaginations
Of What If that accentuate the mind and
Speed a hormone
And I pray I sin no more
Next time we meet and I see her again
For I am but a writer
Learning to use my pen and paper
And hope you but forgive
My linguistic impotence
When I make my confession
Employing too plain a language
When I say thus;
Her smile is classical
Her walk magical
Her beauty celestial
Her stride sensational
Her religion ethical
Her character spotless
And that leaves me breathless
And forgive if I step on broken toe
And try speak of the unspoken
Her ****** is sacred
Her being a type that dresses up
In the milliards of brutes dressing down
And shamelessly style it fashion
I must see a priest
One confession I ought to utter
And even vociferate abroad
For once I had fallen in love
With an Arabian Beautie
A ****** of Mecca.
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 9:12 AM UTC
streams of salt and H2O leak
down reddened cheeks and condense
in a golden beard. a war-torn nation,
half-a-world-away, crystallizes clear as dayspring
in an insomniac's screaming and fragile psyche
at half-past-three in the morning.
what strength must a seven-year-old posses
to persevere amidst the perversity of cluster bombs?
munitions bought and paid for with the taxes
we fork over to the United States. will her blood one day
stain our hands with crimson? will her mother's?
a girl who just wanted to read, to escape
the tragedy that inundates our surroundings,
to a magical realm of pure imagination.
where we can summon spectral stags
to save us from the misery of humanity
and learn to disarm those who would harm
us with the charm, Expelliarmus!
the bastion where i found the first seeds that grew
into a rebellion opens its doors to you, Bana.
there's a crater where your house used to be,
rubble strewn in Aleppo, Syria. but know that Hogwarts
will always be there to welcome you home.
Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 4:05 AM UTC
Before the thaw, my feet will be rooted
Into this nation’s primordial freeze
My muscles and bones will be acquainted with malaise
The sun’s altruism will be refuted
Before the thaw, I will struggle to find consciousness
The frost will leak through the bedroom window
And don the facade of a blanket
The door will prove to be bottomless
Possibilities will seem unachievable
The brain will itch for what it can not have
Buses will limp through congestion
And the blizzards may feast on the feeble
You may want to write of your misery
But your automation will halt in cataclysm
Because someone held a door open
For the gust that billows bitterly
Gastric emissions will become tangible
As smouldering wastes contrast against the sky with rancour
The wispy whites, marginalized into *****
And the world remains infallible
I will lack the tools of incision
To enact my life’s revisions
I will weep for my unguided millions
While I saunter into oblivion
After the thaw, I will smile
My expatriate soul will run in the whimsical wind
Of the morning dayspring that will march unto me
I will stand over a kingdom of honey-filled tiles
After the thaw, the arks will converge
Into the straits of the Bermudian Sea and the
Elusive Caspian Forest, where I will learn to love again
While bidding farewell to winter’s dirge
In the waking world, I will ***** a limestone castle
Where entropy will rule and the mind’s domain
Is left susceptible to perennial reverence
The sea, coloured true, nesting a fairgrounds vessel
In this Great Revision, gargantuan skyways
Will show the world how exiguous we are
That we must not wait for exodus to come
Should we fear to waste away
Into icebergs
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 5:35 PM UTC
_They spoke to me of evenfall and dayspring, the solstice and the equinox. They sang of eras, epochs, and eons. On indigo nights, they whispered in the owl light of alchemy and enchantment, wreathing my cot with an iridescence which illuminated my dreams and begentled my slumber.
At Hallowtide, they scribed lyrical pathways in the air and sculpted rainbow arcs. They celebrated the vernal majesty of April and October's autumnal reprise with moonglade pageantry and sunset flourishes. They conjured blackberry winters and gypsy summers, and laughed at my amazement, as if to say: ‘Told you so!’
As the years departed my second decade and encroached alarmingly upon my third, I began to question why they had chosen me; why we walked together apart and apart together. I wondered where the magic ended and I began, and I realised with the bone-breaking chill of the unwelcome inevitable, just how lost I would be without it._
Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 4:12 PM UTC
Beloved of the sultry ness,
Half wight, fully light;
dayspring of the morn.
Heaven's spark at night;
Mine rainbow in
Fiersome storms.
Bedight me with thy
Comfort, quench me
In the dusk, lancinate
This anxious soul,
Kiss me with a
Hush.
Quiet i'll stay,
I'll sit quite still;
To put mine soul
Inside thee, struck
By love so real.
©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poets poetry
©earl jane nagley dedication.
Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 2:59 PM UTC
i.
Yeshua Ha'Mashiach, enlighten me and Jane's way,
For the juncture through the gunchern
Is wailing, therein the opening of the seal's
Art displaying their stage.
ii.
O' cornerstone, which the builder's hath refused, I beseech thee, and thy protection, sendeth me and jane thy perfect correction;
Fixing ourn sight's on thee.
iii.
O' heavenly dayspring, we seeith the harbinger's of the time's, in the great high blue, underneath the crumbling glue, of planet earth's loam confine.
iv.
O' door to everlasting life, showeth thine light betwixt me and Jane's life. Helpeth us to showeth other's what's right; in the midst of this global panic. Helpeth us to show thou art the one and only way, the path narrow, not broad, the road to Paradise wherein prophecies art coming reality, from the word's of thine father God.
v.
O' king of king's, and Lord of lord's, mayest thou maketh a way for me and mine lass, showeth Jane we hath a bigger purpose. Not just to love eachother, but to showeth Thine amour to one another, to Christian sister's and brother's, and those with no vision, and with none hope. Worketh through us, to be thine cloud's that float- to sprinkle promise; to those without.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry \prophetic poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 7:40 PM UTC
Oh, Rahm oh Rahm Emmanuel,
the mayor of our fair Chicago town
The people here are stuck with you I fear,
Unless another candidate appears.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
one in three still think you’re doing swell
You came, so well connected from on high,
and never let a crises go to waste;
To us the path of knowledge show,
by closing schools and letting teachers go.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
one in three still think you’re doing swell
Oh, Rahm oh Rahm Emmanuel
the homicides are rising by the score.
Guardsmen called to enforce civil law
In places where police will go no more,
Rejoice Rejoice Emanuel
one in three still think you’re doing swell
Oh, come Barrack Obama’s right hand man,
From prosperity you will deliver them
That trust your mighty pow'r to save;
They’ll re-elect you with votes from the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
one in three still think you’re doing swell
Oh, come, our Dayspring from on high,
And cheer us by your drawing nigh,
In Chicago folks stay home at night ,
for fear of death and that ain't right
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
One in three still think you’re doing swell
Oh, come, Desire of nations, bind
In one the hearts of all mankind;
don’t deviate from the party line
til all Chicagoans are left behind.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
One in three still think you’re doing swell
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC
morning incense
on a dancing
meadow
breathes an air
of rosewater essence
swept in a
breeze song
of gentle reverie
her dayspring
flower blooms
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 4:36 PM UTC
How bless'd Thy creature is, O God,
When with a single eye,
He views the lustre of Thy Word,
The dayspring from on high!
Through all the storms that veil the skies
And frown on earthly things,
The Sun of Righteousness he eyes,
With healing on His wings.
Struck by that light, the human heart,
A barren soil no more,
Sends the sweet smell of grace abroad,
Where serpents lurk'd before.
The soul, a dreary province once
Of Satan's dark domain,
Feels a new empire form'd within,
And owns a heavenly reign.
The glorious orb whose golden beams
The fruitful year control,
Since first obedient to Thy WOrd,
He started from the goal,
Has cheer'd the nations with the joys
His orient rays impart;
But, Jesus, 'tis Thy light alone
Can shine upon the heart.
1.1k
With the light slipping through the cracks of my shut windows.
My records playing and travelling around every surface of this cursed house.
The ringing of the alarm from my sisters room awakens me from my midnight daze.
The peace of such a restless night finally decides to befall on my worn out body.
My dreams to be reflected from the sunlight gleam
Always aiming for my mind and it's spectres.
-Kore
Mar 25, 2021
Mar 25, 2021 at 6:38 PM UTC
Minute Michael upright sat, morningwise, donning the dayspring shine. A squint-eyed Michael flip fumbled floorside, unmeaningly frolicking through a sunstained daze.
With armsthrough and torsocovered, a once morningshamed Michael, now shamecovered, left-footedly saunters kithenbound.
Downfaced, Michael straightback bends, greeted legpurringly by Mr. Muffin, a furlined feline.
Gentlefingered, fur runs digitthrough as the furlined feline gentlemews.
Forced faceward, Mr.Muffin tailwaggedly tethers Minute Michael, led by stomachsnarls. Michael, now kitchenside, lefthandly prepares morning rations, as gentlemews quickpaced form to snivelshrieks.
The hardpatienced furlined feline toothsharpedly and clawretractedly nibblebites Michael, indicating stomachsnarls his own.
Airfaced ceilingside, Michael quietyelps, handgropped ankleward.
Clearpointedly Mr. Muffin eyelocks Minute Michael.
Rationpreparedly, Michael bowlfills Mr. Muffin with furlined food.
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 6:36 PM UTC
I watched the sun touched the ocean today.
It brought its radiance to the water.
Then I saw the water played with colors.
Gold, aqua, green, orange, and blue,
so lovely in different hues.
The thoughts of the ocean reminded me of us.
Our sunny days and stormy skies.
Cries, dismays, laughters, dreams, and smiles.
Black and white,
dark and light.
Darkened days and silvery nights.
But love has always led,
lighting the pathways to understanding.
By loving with the fullness of our heart,
we found its bliss, its beauty, and its blessing deep within.
Let’s continue to live on dreams and hopes.
And together herald in the mystical wonders and joys,
where dayspring has no end,
where flowers burst in ever glory and splendor,
even years after we’ve lifted our first silver hair.
Jun 13, 2021
Jun 13, 2021 at 6:35 PM UTC
Hast thou come here kindly and in beauty
with the early and faintest dawn, whilst
the undaunted night sky is newly bearing
the dayspring once more;
and dare I ask
if perhaps I dream, or if you truly do drape
thy left hand gently over my right side,
whilst
calling me-the struggling bud-to sprightly
issue forth; heretofore
to morph into a mighty flourisher,
then left to beg most intently to be swathed in a
manner of sole Love...
and all in the misty morning light?
-I shall ever await your answer, for now in effect one,
'till the day that I am grown:
perhaps ne'er to escape for the vine, but evermore in the blest sun.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 10:44 PM UTC
i. spring
do you remember
the first time
you asked me to write you a poem?
you were nervous
and you blushed
when you finally
found the words.
little did you know,
i’d already penned several—
though, none i was happy with.
i started the first not long after we met.
it grew like a sapling,
burgeoning in dayspring.
there were so many times
i should’ve figured out
i was in over my head.
but i knew with some certainty
that i was doomed
when you graffitied anarchy
in the concrete
of D.C.
right then and there
i should’ve realized
i’d fall for you.
ii. summer
can you recall
the first time
we made love?
the window was open,
the curtains weren’t drawn.
but August air kissed our skin
and you had no patience.
you guided my head down
and you bit your tongue
to keep from screaming out.
after you came thrice,
we collapsed in a heap
of sheets knotted
from sweat and ***
i read you Camus
while you lay your head
on my chest to tune-in
to the rhythm and blues
of a heart that beat
a melody for you.
iii. autumn
will you recollect
the first time
i broke down?
lost it on the drive home
from Goodwill
where we tried to find
Halloween costumes.
we were stuck in rush-hour traffic.
anxiety got the best of me—
had my skeleton rattling
beneath my skin,
hands trembling
on the steering wheel,
teeth chewing
off my tongue.
panic.
the sun was setting
and there wasn’t a ******* thing
i could do
to keep it floating
in the heavens.
iv. winter
i can’t forget
the first time
you came to me with scars on your wrists.
i held you while you shook with sobs,
vomited in the toilet,
and cursed a non-existent god.
i danced with you in the living room,
sang to you on the way home from St. Pete,
and held your hand in the Dali exhibit.
i gave you every bit
of love i had left
but i was never enough.
November’s fraught with cold.
seasons slip and i am eclipsed
by your new fling.
i wish you nothing
but happiness,
Beloved. i still adore you
endlessly.
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 11:14 PM UTC
Each morn, I sow
a quest-in mind,
resolved to find,
a handsome home,
‘low golden glow,
or wood entwined,
one springs to mind.
What place I’ll go
in morning throes
to bury blind
this heart of mine,
I never know.
Nov 17, 2019
Nov 17, 2019 at 7:25 PM UTC
ZzzzZzzzZzzzZzzzZzzz
It was the key of E
ZzzzZzzzZzzzZzzzZzzz
punctuated by the coloratura
of exuberant birds
greeting the morning sunlight
as the bees rushed from flower to flower
zealous to drink in the nectar of a new day
A leaf blower pierces this subtle but mighty symphony
Why can't we just allow the wind to blow the leaves?
Still the bees ZzzzZzzZzzz
Still the birds rival the greatest sopranos
And I pause
What am I adding to this grand opus?
Am I in harmony?
Am I the din?
ZzzzZzzzZzzZzzzZzzz
And we keep buzzing, humming, singing
As this little planet turns, ecstatically
In a symphony of galaxies and stars
Basking in the dayspring sun
Oct 24, 2020
Oct 24, 2020 at 9:46 PM UTC
The aura of darkness
Ooze out the rainbow
Of uncertainty
The rainbow of darkness
Spitting cloudy dews
Daylight speak to us
Daylight announce
Your appearance
Shall we tarry awhile?
Shall we long for
Day spring for illumination?
Withdraw the unseen
Mantra of fear
Replace the unfriendly
Mantle of discord
This stronghold
Shall be pulled down
Day spring speak to us
Dayspring announce
Your appearance
Enlighten us
Let there be light
From the tunnel
Of righteousness
Light be
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 12:25 AM UTC
Slayed with complete awe at the sight
Early crisp morning at dayspring
Mind burning with desire to bring
Perfect sketch with word-craft as bright
Description of the sun's first light
Such angst thus paired with heart of glee
When thoughts and feelings can't run free
This poem's not about sun rays
You see! You set my soul ablaze
When your exquisite face I see
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 10:41 AM UTC
Grey daylight bleeds through my bedroom window
Wake me from a deep and dreamless sleep
Rain echoes off the mud
I am as bleek as the day
Dayspring brings no optimism
Like days of my youth
When mornings swelled with exhilaration
A sunny side disposition
Now apprehension bears down
Unbearably
Pressing, choking, smothering
The day is so terribly long
Bone-weary I sit upon stones
Begging the waves to wash away my sorrow
Beseeching the sunset to take my regret
But they do not
The cold gust of night and melancholia
Now all I have is the moon
She pours down her shining sentiment
Still I am alone
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 5:50 PM UTC