i.

A Vintage Alfajor necklace
To veil mine sovereign belle;
Betrothed for heaven's comfort
We hath already been through hell.

ii.

Ourn bygone time
Hath strengthened us for forthcoming rapture;
I'll be right next to her, in her allure
No death, forever, happily ever after.

iii.

I'll tryeth daily, tis none maby's
I'll doeth anything, for mine Filipino baby;
As tis I'll maketh her, forget her past
I'll be her bishop, she shalt be mine eternal hourglass.

iv.

As time goeth fast, I mustn't lose the thought
That tommorrow doth not always cometh, we dieth, get lost;
Though she hath found me, I knoweth what being saved mean's
I wilt liveth every day as mine last, and liveth it for mine queen.

v.

So dearest reyna, soulmate, and best friend
When thou doth readeth this, know ourn love shalt not end;
As we both understandeth, this planet is just a passage to the next
We wilt meeteth in this life, and afterward's, pag-ibig at it's best.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication

there are others like me I see. Lost as I was.
So
What could I do to ease their fretting,
would I be comforted?  No.
Back then,
no.
I refused the comforter
*** outchacom'fit zone
Oh, they be hell to pay,

-----
among the ideas that possess men,
there are tells,
among the men of both varieties possessed by or of
(as you shall see, it may be both) ideas ,
there are tells, twitches and ticks and unconscious daemons sorting
sayings
aphorisms, proverbs,
memes 'n' such.
Confusion sayin'
H.R. Puffin'stuff, that neveh me'nt a thang. Jes't aname anime annie mae, where's
annie mae moved to okinawa wa wa wa

Imps. Pulses of them flow through heare…
(those slips shall hereafter be known as di-sensical-utterences or dsu, in writing. i.e. here and hear, he-are, heare, here is heard hear and means something else, intensionally. We, augmented Adamkind of all kinds, can inject meaning at will.)

commonly on Sunday mornings,
though I doubt the impulses
have a calendar that might map to any ex- or im-
I'm never sure what goes properly with perience.
Prior to the trial, experience is so limited,
I'm going with perience, in and of itself,
perience is plenty. Ex-cepting,
you know, the lessons learned,
those have earned their proper
nomenclature.
Those are experience.
Lesson learned.
Twixt thee and me is no more mix-up,
idiot-syncrecy fused with two-mind
hate of knowing and unknown;
we know what experience really means to us.

We are bound in syncret oath sealed with shibboloths in unutterable names.
As it is written in the law of Moses,

"all this evil is come upon us:
yet made we not our prayer before YHWH our God,
that we might turn from our iniquities,
and understand thy truth. 
Therefore hath YHWH watched upon the evil,
and brought it upon us:
for YHWH our God is righteous in all his works which he doeth:
for we obeyed not his voice.

From <http://biblehub.com/kjv/daniel/9.htm>
Shame that such once breathed thoughts threading pearls and jade,
or was that chalcedony? - scatter when the thread breaks
. Shame, such thoughts, frail as smoke.
Sanctity sanity sanctify sanity,

We think such thoughts. Fragile spokes.
Sanctity sanity sanctify sanity,
time and time again,
what I called holy in my darkness, is holy in my light.


Words that lose the sacred salt are calcereous
grains of time, dust memes in the sun,
launched by centuries of tramping feet.
'haps the highest parts of the dust of the earth ever.
Oh,
how the masters love mastery of mystery.
"The old man on the mountain, he knew if he lied."
You, the observer of it all,
know.

"you knew nothing of my work"
"have a think"
"never thirst, imagine standing under knowing that"
Voices, the walls heard, stones speak, historically speaking
happens all the time, a frequency lock prevents it bleeding into now, but that becomes tyranny, believe me.

The ideas that possess men and provoke good works
or big, power-consumptive,

tale-swallowing feats,
those ideas are servants.
lacking any knowledge of good and evil,
such ideas are everywhere,
men who know say so. None of this was done in secret.
Twisted minds twist servant to slave labor. Magi-minds,
high-minded, relative to the belly-crawlers and creeping things,
see servant as tool and teacher. Same idea.
The original ideas we have to deal with.
They were seen to be good, by God.
There are no bad ideas, there are bad actions caused by mad ideas locked to single mindless anger impulses so callused as to appear gigantic,
certainly so, when they are known to lurk under beds and in selfish old men.
"Dark sayings, dear reader, pro fess pro verbs, action words snip "No lie is of the truth" snip
the lie and loose listing truth to the wind.
Who told you that inheriting the wind was like inheriting nothing?
You. You troubled your own house and you inherited the wind.
You came not to bring peace, but a sword…

The good news. Inheriting the wind is inheriting everything that ever matters, all the power in heaven and in earth was how simpler minds imagined shaping the idea.
Idyll minds, the devil's workshop, eh?
Comfort thought.
Who told you desiring comfort was a ***** thing?
Same voice went real deep and whispered,
"What price glory? Eh, pilgrim?"
stop. think

Sweet, for instance,
sweet, as an idea, can **** the man who makes it the basis of his value calculations.
Shame, came to prevent such impinging on subroutines intent on manifesting destiny,
as the sweet little ones imagined forevers in their pioneer-daze plays.
Shame is not blamed for being known,
the lying spirit who spoke with forked tongue,
sweet
little people, please, believe my lie,
there is a reason why
I know

There. Message in a bottle.
If you know what you know.
Messenger is what angel means, right? right. Who asks? Who knows?
No. I know you know this is
purposefully useful for
helping
crazy ideas
come back to some sem-sym-balance beneath the branches of the tree of knowledge, nestled in the twisting roots,
golden eggs, oh, far,
far
beyond Faberge, I must say. These, you must see to believe.

Wee falsely think it due unto our friends,
That we should grieve for their too early ends:
He that surveys the world with serious eys,
And stripps Her from her grosse and weak disguise,
Shall find 'tis injury to mourn their fate;
He only dy's untimely who dy's Late.
For if 'twere told to children in the womb,
To what a stage of mischief they must come
Could they foresee with how much toile and sweat
Men court that Guilded nothing, being Great;
What paines they take not to be what they seem,
Rating their blisse by others false esteem,
And sacrificing their content, to be
Guilty of grave and serious Vanity;
How each condition hath its proper Thorns,
And what one man admires, another Scorns;
How frequently their happiness they misse,
And so farre from agreeing what it is,
That the same Person we can hardly find,
Who is an houre together in a mind;
Sure they would beg a period of their breath,
And what we call their birth would count their Death.
Mankind is mad; for none can live alone
Because their joys stand by comparison:
And yet they quarrell at Society,
And strive to **** they know not whom, nor why,
We all live by mistake, delight in Dreames,
Lost to ourselves, and dwelling in extreames;
Rejecting what we have, though ne're so good,
And prizing what we never understood.
compar'd to our boystrous inconstancy
Tempests are calme, and discords harmony.
Hence we reverse the world, and yet do find
The God that made can hardly please our mind.
We live by chance, and slip into Events;
Have all of Beasts except their Innocence.
The soule, which no man's pow'r can reach, a thing
That makes each women Man, each man a King.
Doth so much loose, and from its height so fall,
That some content to have no Soule at all.
"Tis either not observ'd, or at the best
By passion fought withall, by sin deprest.
Freedome of will (god's image) is forgot;
And if we know it, we improve it not.
Our thoughts, thou nothing can be more our own,
Are still unguided, verry seldom known.
Time 'scapes our hands as water in a Sieve,
We come to dy ere we begin to Live.
Truth, the most suitable and noble Prize,
Food of our spirits, yet neglected ly's.
Errours and shaddows ar our choice, and we
Ow our perdition to our Own decree.
If we search Truth, we make it more obscure;
And when it shines, we can't the Light endure;
For most men who plod on, and eat, and drink,
Have nothing less their business then to think;
And those few that enquire, how small a share
Of Truth they fine! how dark their notions are!
That serious evenness that calmes the Brest,
And in a Tempest can bestow a rest,
We either not attempt, or elce [sic] decline,
By every triffle ******'d from our design.
(Others he must in his deceits involve,
Who is not true unto his own resolve.)
We govern not our selves, but loose the reins,
Courting our ******* to a thousand chains;
And with as man slaverys content,
As there are Tyrants ready to Torment,
We live upon a Rack, extended still
To one extreme, or both, but always ill.
For since our fortune is not understood,
We suffer less from bad then from the good.
The sting is better drest and longer lasts,
As surfeits are more dangerous than fasts.
And to compleat the misery to us,
We see extreames are still contiguous.
And as we run so fast from what we hate,
Like Squibs on ropes, to know no middle state;
So (outward storms strengthen'd by us) we find
Our fortune as disordred as our mind.
But that's excus'd by this, it doth its part;
A treacherous world befits a treacherous heart.
All ill's our own; the outward storms we loath
Receive from us their birth, or sting, or both;
And that our Vanity be past a doubt,
'Tis one new vanity to find it out.
Happy are they to whom god gives a Grave,
And from themselves as from his wrath doeth save.
'Tis good not to be born; but if we must,
The next good is, soone to return to Dust:
When th'uncag'd soule, fled to Eternity,
Shall rest and live, and sing, and love, and See.
Here we but crawle and *****, and play and cry;
Are first our own, then others Enemy:
But there shall be defac'd both stain and score,
For time, and Death, and sin shall be no more.

The once little, little prince,
stood wide-eyed, unto the sunless sky,
there, winged was she,
Rapunzel fair, princess no longer for he.

You see, he doesn't remember now,
how long ago it was he was told,
To find a princess, locked far away,
and if patient be ye, so too will treasure most pure,
be
his own.

And when, after many years traveling hence,
he arrived there upon the scene,
of the long, lonely tower, spiraling up,
there on and until the single window,
opened gently, and residing faintly,
laid a dream, he could not appease,
nay, no matter how much he rubbed his eyes,
Still, did the little prince look up and see,
Fair Rapunzel, in all her resplendent beauty.

Wait, she said, smiling gold,
In just a few years hence,
She laughed, merrily,
Will my hair grow long enough,
for you my dear Prince,
To come on up and truly rescue me.
For now it is good to talk,
and dream and be, for surely still,
must my luck be overwhelming,
with you here, to keep me company.
With just, YOU, here, little prince,
eyes nearly watering, she whispered,
And now not for me to be so lonely.

The little prince's heart, somewhere long gone,
Along the way, had already flittered up,
Though she could scarcely feel it,
With tower keeping them at bay,
Indeed it it land on her doorstep,
And there, long, did it lay.

So for many years, the Little Prince,
And Rapunzel did lay,
Her up high, and he down low,
With her hair, growing more each day.
And he was happy though, he was not sure,
If he was more trapped than her,
encased, but with each days growth,
of her luscious golden hair, did each time,
take a bit of his aching heart, beat by beat,
before mind barely had a say.

And then, alas, a few seasons hence more,
Around the corner was he, into her arms,
Evermore.
But cruel fate did lay, such plans for naught,
For at once her hair doth shed, and wings did she partook,
Yea, Little Prince, said she, Though doeth I love you so,
And the price I paid was dark and grave,
No bargain have I pursued could ever be forsook,
As this, one feeling, oh to fly over stone,
valley, canyon, and brook,
To be free, untethered, beating release,
NO LONGER DO I NEED WAIT,
OH WITHOUT SUCH WASTEFUL WORDS AS PATEINCE!
Now I am my queen, and you,
She looked down softly,
Not even my cook.

And the little prince looked up in awe,
Always believing in that which he was seeing,
awful though was his mind, that, Even still,
as his heart did empty,
did it endeavor, hurriedly quick,
To deny that reality, of waiting for a trick.
I was a game, he thought, but still,
if this be a quirk of god or fate,
Even now, in its very face will I,
Lucifer, be, Agnostic in this,
my hell.

So he closed his red eyes,
as his angel did ascend,
ne'er close did he ever reach,
someone.
Just a story now,
for children,
and growing young men,
Don't wait so long for someone,
you love in a tower,
or else you'll find yourself,
too, A...
Little Prince, not so little,
Anymore.

(Deborah) an old style poetic as me, thy words about empresses, kings and queens, is mine sort of style, thy writing is beautiful untamed and shalt never die in any mile. Thy writing like heaven passed down from Shakesperian words himself, true poetic!!!

( Aarvie) thou art a true of truest romantic's, as I seeith in thine pieces of heaven, its good to see other hopeless romantic's as me, I prayeth the best for thee and thy life, continue to loveth in both of thine dreams and reality, and be the king as thou art mate.

( Elsa angelica) angel to all of us, though we've not spoken in day's, just wanted to tell thee, for thee nightly I prayeth, as thou feeleth so alone, God awaits thee, for heaven's thine home, as I've said I've known thee long ago, continue to shine on, dear Angel.

( Earl Jane) dear oriental friend of mine, thy love and heart shineth above the hellish earth, thou was sent to love and forgive, and overcometh the judgement of the one's who art hurt, showeth them amour', smile and uplift as thou doth me friend.

( KetomaRose) miss, thy words lonely like me, I prayeth one day that thou findeth a king, because there's a difference between men and kings, men calleth a woman "woman", kings calleth one queen, continue to be who thou art, and one day. Get that ring!!

( Musfiq us shaleheen) dearest writing champion, thy words like butter giveth flavor to mine tongue, thy artwork's art as gods finger's stroking the sun, class thou hath, and a loving àura I canst seeith shine, like wine to mine doorstep of poetry mate.

( Anto MacRuairidh) haven't known thee to long dearest poetic, but thy word's of love rub me in a friendly alphabetic way. Continue to jot love now, tommorrow,  today, in every way continue to be the genius thou art, and remember, love is real!!!

( Katie) new to h.p, welcome mine friend, thank thee for supporting me, thy words ring across England, it rings the bell of the USA, Ireland, and the united kingdom, thou art kind, sweet, a good soul anyone wouldst want to meet. Continue thy blossoming

( Steven Langhorst) friend, always writing of thy good times and bad, the times that meant all to thee, and times thou hath hadst. Thou art a truest poetic honesty! A man of devout poetry belief, continue to love thy family, and showeth amour to all as thou art

( Victoria) another lass with class, a lady whos great, no questions to ask, thy old soul is fastened on with a pen and Papyrus to scribe thine beauties, thy artwork like movies, dancing the HP scenes, putting realness in dreams, decor thou writeth.

( Toreinss Pinwinkel III) hey good man, don't knoweth thee much, but thou art a comic, a friend of men, an honest lad, like an ex hippy gypsie, or a wonderful lad, thy words art heart forming, thy words mold into treasures that speaketh to me.

( neex) thy amare speaketh to mine soul, as everyone loveth thee, thy lingo like gold, thou showeth bright in this place of h.p . continue to loveth, forget the hatred and doeth as thou doth please, just don't forget like the rest, continue in thy love friend!

( cat Fiske) thou hath known me since the beginning friend, thou hath even made a room called" the poems Brandon writeth for us" meaning for all the girls who like mine work' lol, thank thee dear friend, keepeth thy head up, knoweth God is with thee now.

( Mina) Iranian charmstress, a best friend to me, and a world of loving ways thou art, as thou wilt meet thy king, just remember, when ourn countries and government's acteth as hating brutes, remember God is watching, and he's been there protecting to.

( Matt) this ones for thee prophetic as me, speaking of the economy's ending, friend continue just to trusteth thy God, and in love showeth Christ's love is affectionate, not deadly! Be ready for his coming dearest good friend, thou wilt find thy queen to.

( Jimmy yetts) this one for thee brother, thy word's art comical and at the same time so much truth, thou art a poet free. Not a slave, not In some noose, thine hand writeth what others need to heareth, that's a a prophetic to me, continue on friend of h.p.

( ridicule) I knoweth that's not thy real picture, yet I knoweth thou aren't fake, continue even if in secrecy to showeth thy words of beauty, and showeth thy heartbreak, as thou wilt find thy good king to, continue in love as the rest, ad thou art blessed!

(SweetPea) poetic so saccharine, I promise thee one day thy pains shalt cease, as this life hath pains and dreams, but reality for thee wilt be awoken, God wilt flyeth thee to places unspoken, aloft the clouds wherein thou shalt write. Thou art a dearest of good invite

( its gonna make sense) this ones for thee mine dearest little line writer, thy tiny confection treats art sweet to mine tongue, like pastrys filled with such goodness. Continue to search on for thy king, though only taketh him if he hath armour, a shining knight


( Frank Ruland) madman of writing, as thy jargon is enticing and I always want to take a peep, though dont knoweth thee well either, thy words like Clover's. Hard to find other words. Continue to loveth for thine queen, let words floweth like herbs.

( Nicole) a gentle soul, like a stream that surrounds the lonely banks, let thy words sink into the heart of the lonesome. Continue to shock in awe and inspiration, when thou art down cometh here to gain above. For God watches his children as many doves.

( Helena) the thief of wonder of words, don't worry thy words art heard, as I listen loud and clear. I freely feeleth thy tears cometh out in thy personal moments, like butterfly's thine writings flyeth on to the moon and back, as thou I hath as mine good friend...

What art thou doing today friend?
Art thou living in pleasure's;
Or materials.

What art thou doing today friend?
Art thou wearing a mask;
Putting on a good smile, screaming inside.

What doth thou doeth in thine spare time?
Doth thou hurt other's;
Taketh to never giveth, getting rich off poor and blind?

What doth thou feeleth dear friend?
Doth thou not realize, wordly pleasure's only last a second;
Until thine end.

What doth thou heareth O man?
The music to loud on thine speaker's;
Blocking out God whilst thou canst?

What art thou drinking oh brother?
Alcohol to dilute thee;
A well from God floweth much better.

Wherein is thine wife O mate?
O thou art not at thine abode;
Cheating again, with a hot date.

Wherein doth thou investeth thine time?
Material's that dissapear, putting loot into stock's and shares;
Loosing thine wordly mind?

Wherein art thy children?
Left all by their self, thy wife not getting help;
Whilst thou hath put them on the dusty shelf.

Doth thou even knoweth where thou art going?
When thine heart's pulse stoppeth;
There's a heaven and hell, beast's in cell's, where thy skin fryeth.

Doth thou taketh thing's for granted?
Living today as if there's another;
Forgot thy sister and brother's, as art purpose here is love.

Didst thou knoweth?
Thine sin's canst be forgiven, with the last day's to thee given;
Wilt thou except the creator's grace? Or turneth away?




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

She asked me last night
How many poems doth thou doeth rey?
I told her in a cocky attitude
I don't know reina
I doeth alot
It's mine life
I'm aspiring to push mine work

As I do knoweth,
It's better to push mine writings
Than to push the dope I used to...

i.

Mo chuisle, if this specter shalt cease;
                      Keepeth mine writing's in a chest for safekeep's.

ii.

Mo chuisle, if mine eidolon doth release;
                      Remember mine amour', please do not weep.

iii.

Mo chuisle, I feeleth soon this heavy flesh shalt succumb;
                     No tears, no fear's, I am thy chosen one.

iv.

Mo chuisle, I don't knoweth how many more breath's art left;
  
v.
                
Though if this is mine last, always remember lass,
I wilt forever loveth thee mine pet, though we hath not met, soon we shalt. Keepeth thine window open so mine spirit canst cometh and goeth freely, to enter in, and cometh out. Thou art not alone, if even thou shalt feeleth it, mine soul is mobile, I'll travel universal-global; I'll doeth all to protect thee mine Asian Noble. A hierarchy of cherub's and seraph's awaiteth me now, I think they needeth me soon, to be a poet in God's room, just looketh high, I'll be aloft the ground. Mas mahal kita Reyna, never forget these word's, they might be mine last, mine sweet Jane, mine soulmate, mine all, mine all of me;
Mine best friend..  
Mine other half
Mine life;
Mine wife..........



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)

Mine pet;

When coming to America, I shalt showeth thee
All fifty states, of the United States
Mine queen....

Alabama; Down south, the place of the little river canyon national reserve, at the top of lookout mountain, where bird's canst be heard.
Alaska; A place far out west, a wild domain, a place untamed, where thou canst let out thy wildness.
Arizona; a place of ourn beloved poet ( soul survivor) a native American land, where cacti run the land's, and dirt is bright red.
Arkansas; To hot spring's national park, where beauty canst be seen in the dark, and soaked in through the warm bubbled water.
California; A place redwood tree's and Sequoia's, a land for the strange, and weird thing's, where all cometh together.
Colorado; where mine oldest brother liveth, where the crystalline water as a drink it giveth, and the *****'s peak highly amour'.
Connecticut; A place of Eastern sandshores, where we canst walketh in ourn galore, holding hand's, I'll sayeth me more!!!
Delaware; Delmara peninsula where we canst seeith awe-shocking elegance, where we canst travel in all remembrance.
Florida; thither mine middle brother's terra firma, a place of alligator's, swamp's, ocean waves, surfer's and hot sun drop's.
Georgia; The place where slave's fought hard, Atlanta city, a big place of life, fast and slow.where rich men go to liveth large.
Hawaii; Tropical island like thy own, not connected to the mainland though, swaying tree's like thy own, heavenly splendor.
Idaho; Where we canst get the best potatoes, I'll make them mashed, with gravy, chicken and tomatoes, I'll feed thee good.
Illinois; Where the huge city of Chicago sit's, large skyscraper's, and city bliss. Where the water sparkles the view.
Indiana; Marengo Cave National Landmark, where we canst sneak inside the cave's, then to Indianapolis, to wander through the shade.
Iowa; To Pikes Peak state park, where the Mississippi and Wisconsin river's meet to start, a beautiful picture indeed.
Kansas; Off to Rock City, an odd place where two-hundred boulders rest, then to Kansas Cosmosphere and Space Center to explore a place of knowledge, learning of the new, and happiness.
Kentucky; To Mammoth Cave National Park, in strangeness we shalt walk the dark, with lantern's to carry ourn shadow's.
Louisiana; Also the well known area of New orlean's, where jazz music doesn't stop and the people art it's scene. Where people overcometh!!!!
Maine; To get some of the best seafood around, the eastern wind shalt bloweth us around, as love thou shouldst bring a coat dear.
Maryland; Where Edgar Allen poe was born, where the Raven sung and mourned, though the sunshine shines it's people.
Massachusetts; The land of Many Irishmen and fishermen, settling thee down in Boston, where the accent of the easterly go loudly.
Michigan; The state just above me, they haveth natural lake's and the chill is breezed, the soul's art kind, and people dream, their alive.
Minnesota; where the snow piles to thy ride, the whitened picture is Christmas to thy eye's, as thou wilt need to dress warm.
Mississippi; Deep down south, where the language changes, word's art more southern and slang it clingeth, onto thy lip's.
Missouri; First to the St. Louis arch, it bend's to the sky and is six hundred and twenty five feet from thy heart, as high we shalt view.
Montana; Western freedom, wherein nature is painted, horses roam, thing's aren't tainted, guileless and natural.
Nebraska; Betwixt the corn stalks and field's, farmer's work hard and people art real, as hard work like thy country is known.
Nevada; To Las Vegas the desert Oasis, light's art big, as room's art spacious, different is here with a million face's, gambler's taketh their chances.
New Hampshire; Near Lake Winnipesaukee, a sensible area where being's doeth their best, eastward again, bringeth hot dress.
New Jersey; To Atlantic City on the boardwalk, a place of tales and beach defined walk, sunshined day's where lingo talk's, and the traveling shalt be sweet.
New Mexico; Dusty native land, the dirt is grained, the pinnacles of silence is maintained, by God's still voice.
New York; Aka- The big apple, where immigrant's once cameth through, immigrant's as me thou and you. Meaning were all the same.
North Carolina; Blue Ridge *****'s peak the entry, ancient places here art serene, tranquil relaxing is here mine queen!!!
North Dakota; farther again out west, talk to the Indian's to get the best, they'll giveth thee information to inform the rest.
Ohio; Mine state, the heart of the country, I mean by it's shape, were surrounded by all, we sit on a lake, we hath cornfield's, barn's, southern Hill's, northern star's, kind folk's and fancy cars, mixed with great stores for shopping, as I'll buyeth thee as much as thy heart canst be enlarged.
Oklahoma; Indigenous territory, creatures art relaxed, no need for no hurry.
Oregon; Where tree's groweth big, rainfall is the normal, and wild children art the kid's, beautiful scenery is blossoming mist.
Pennsylvania; On the eastern edge of the Appalachian Top's, green none make believe, the quietness is beauty, a part of God!!!

A soft answer turneth
away wrath: but grievous
words stir up anger.
2 The tongue of the wise useth
knowledge aright: but the mouth
of fools poureth out foolishness.
3 The eyes of the Lord are
in every place beholding the evil
and the good.
4 A wholesome tongue is a tree
if life: but perverseness therein is
a breach in the spirit.
5 A fool despiseth his father's
instruction: but he the regardeth
reproof is prudent.
6 In the house of the righteous
is much treasure: but in the
revenues of the wicked is trouble.
7 The lips of the wise disperse
knowledge: but the heart of the
foolish doeth not so.
8 The sacrifice of the wicked
is an abomination to the Lord: but
the prayer of the upright is his delight.
9 The way of the wicked is an
abomination unto the Lord: but
he loveth him that followeth
after righteousness.
10 Correction is grievous unto
him that forsaketh the way: and
he that hateth reproof shall die.
11 Hell and destruction are
before the Lord: how much more
then the hearts of the children of
men?
12 A scorner loveth not one
that reproveth him: neither will he
go unto the wise.
13 A merry heart maketh a
cheerful countenance: but by
sorrow of the heart the spirit is
broken.
14 The heart of them that hath
understanding seeketh knowledge:
but the mouth of fools
feedeth on foolishness.
15 All the days of the afflicted
are evil: but he that is of a merry
heart hath a continual feast.
16 Better is little with the fear
of the Lord than great treasure
and trouble therewith.
17 Better is a dinner of herbs
where love is, than a stalled ox
and hatred therewith.
18 A wrathful man stirreth up
strife: but he that is slow to anger
appeaseth strife.
19 The way of the slothful man
is as an hedge of thorns: but the
way of the righteous is made
plain.
20 A wise son maketh a glad
father: but a foolish man
despiseth his mother.
21 Folly is joy to him that is
destitute of wisdom: but a man of
understanding walketh uprightly.
22 Without counsel purposes
are disappointed: but in the
multitude of counsellors they are
established.
23 A man hath joy by the
answer of his mouth: and a word
spoken in due season, how good
is it!
24 The way of life is above to
the wise, that he may depart from
hell beneath.
25 The Lord will destroy the
house of the proud: but he will
establish the border of the
widow.
26 The thoughts of the wicked
are an abomination to the Lord:
but the words of the pure are
pleasant words.
27 He that is greedy of gain
troubleth his own house; but he
that hateth gifts shall live.
28 The heart of the righteous
studieth to answer: but the
mouth of the wicked poureth out
evil things.
29 The Lord is far from the
wicked: but he heareth the
prayer of the righteous.
30 The light of the eyes rejoiceth
the heart: and a good report
maketh the bones fat.
31 The ear that heareth the
reproof of life abideth among the
wise.
32 He that refuseth instruction
despiseth his own soul: but he
that heareth reproof getteth
understanding.
33 The fear of the Lord is the
instruction of wisdom; and before
honour is humility.

In her galaxy I Effervesce, free-floating, I've bypassed the gales, and the darkest guest's. Though Hell still tryeth to taketh mine flesh, I've found mine abode, inside mine Reyna's trove; now in placid tranquillity, restfulness. I've entered into her Fumulus, o'er the gallery's of gloaming light's, yonder her smile, in the striking of night. As tis, she hath given me insight to be better, to doeth better, as tis she is mine better, I've sent mine amare to her in the form; of the most romantic letter........




©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)

Shaman's see visions of heinous onslaught,
No pormonteaus of buried boon!!!
Priests and rabbis lick thine clothe,
Ebbing closer to emptied rooms!!!

Young girls and boys burlesque in their costumes,
Mother and father do buck,
Living in hell in thine own living room,
Fast lives, cars and trucks!

Aphrodisiacs they put in their vein,
Tears dry the carpets,
Entertainers dance in thy rain,
Moribund, still a lonesome carcass!!!

Covetednous, they've made as their gods,
Fast foods, no life,
Intimance gone!!!!

A band to wear with crested jewels,
Yet what art they with no meaning?
Say thy affiance all that thou wilt,
Still stuck in the land of the dreaming!!!!

Mutagens and fabricators to selves,
Clouds come with no pour down,
The poor line the street for the corner spells,
Doeth you giveth them love?
Or throw them in cells?

Devotee to Christ,
Hath thou given advice?
Yet still taketh not thy own?
Your bloods spilt to the mass of drules,
Still dont want to be alone!!!

Trammels your in,
In trammels you'll sin,
In trammels you will die or awake once again!!!!

I bet Bilbo Baggins
Would laugh at the self-proclaimed;
tragic-melodramatic
***-backwards actors
Who proclaim with a loud verse
Recited, and well-rehearsed
But in secret their hearts doeth curse
The Creator; of Universe.

Amid the sky of covered crimson plane
The stormy night begets its wonted reign
And down the sails of battered ships
The golden light of sol doeth set.
Far below the wooden hulls lies
O’ oceans crypt, unknown in depth.
Below the base of beaten ships and
Amid the anglers glow
The luminal aura of Isis shows.  
Crystal Night, immaculate sight
Waxing strong her sultry form
Oh how bright her soothing light
A beckon of hope amid the perilous storm.
The captive witness cannot cease
Its ponderous delight of beauties scene.
Of the godless night, in waves
Of tumult and titanic might
Of hellish forces the setians reign.
The sacred goddess of Lucifer’s seed
Rests tall for all to see.

i.

Cometh closer rayna, into mine sight
I gaveth mine last exhalation, in the middle of the night;
Do not be frightened, do not fright,
I'm lively, beyond the grave, thus once burdened, as a man an slave.

ii.

Cometh here rayna, into mine glow
Looketh at mine hand's, Into mine soul;
I knoweth we couldst not meeteth, in the world of the living,
But now I am here,spiritually breathing.

iii.

Cometh here rayna, looketh at mine new regalia
I've met kin, with a thousand friends, we chat amongst azaleas;
Heaven tis real, more than thou couldst imagine
I'll meeteth thee there, thou canst stroke mine hair,
No more devil's, worldlies, or tormenting dragon's.

iv.

Cometh closer mi amour', mine poetry is the door
That thou shalt findeth me; I won't be lost- readeth between the lines of mine stanza's, that's where I shalt be.
I'll be looking down upon thou, before thine own dying breath's, Jane, O' mine whole, O' mine Rayna, we'll meet again someday;
Please weareth the honey yellow dress. Do not be mad at God, for he needed me home. Soon mine love, soon mine dove, we shalt reside in a place I picked covered in heavenly gold, a view to calleth ourn abode. Doeth good whilst I'm away, loveth one another, this is ourn creator's message, I wilt sendeth thee blessing's, just continue to loveth thy sister's and brother's.


©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose ) dedication

Snapping and cracking it moves with a clink
jibbering and jabbering beneath the kitchen sink

It backs up the pipes with stagnant decay
reeking and stinking all through the day

Exhaling self-loathing, skin milky and pale
demoniac from twisted tongue to forked tail

Feasting upon rats it swallows them whole
a creature mischievous, bloodthirsty and cold

He devours Halloweeners, then all their sweets
surprising passing strangers by yanking their feet -

"I'll yoink your tootsies, tickle your toes
then what next, uh oh who knows?!"

Last Christmas it blinded the neighbours so they couldn't see
burnt the decorations and shat under their tree

The poor little children waking up that following dawn
to bits of their grandparents spread across the lawn -

Oh I can't sleep, scared of my own home
sick of being stuck with this thing all on my own

People are dead and my moral passions to blame
my inability to **** has caused all this pain

So tonight when it crawls from its slumber, I'll be there with my gun

Oh come my sweet little demon, let's have some fun!

- The Wingle Wangle Song -

"Wingle Wangle Wyrmtail
Is a wicked little fairy -
bloodshot eyes, a grimy disguise
he doeth not scare me

Wingle Wangle Wyrmtail
Bathes in sweat and cold blood -
Sneaks into homes, steals people's bones
Separates the bad from the good

Wingle Wangle Wyrmtail
Roams all night, sleeps all day -
A blighter joyous and macabre
so happy and gay

Wingle Wangle Wyrmtail
you may dance to all the children's cries -

but beware Wingle Wangle
within a barrel lies your demise."

Words are Powerful!*  Now, somehow, dying are words, this is as sinful, nearly, as is Hell! Dying quick as such - for praying also, sadly. "So if He wish that end, that too is near; grant this, and trust as much as I!"
Dead not is His Heart! True, mine goes on, yet beats hardly mine. O' Heart! Only this is it, as it is, true, (be it Truth.)
Yes! Madder Words Do Hurt- badly so-they doeth so wrongly; and in breaking! Now, is that Heart? No!!!


No heart that is now breaking in-and wrongly so-if doeth they so badly hurt -do Words matter? Yes! Truth it be! True as it is. This only Heart  O' mine hardly beats, yet -on goes mine, True Heart. "His is not Dead!" I as much as trust; and this grant- -near is too, so if He wish, that end. Sadly, also praying for such as quick dying, "Hell!" is as sinful as nearly is this: Words are dying somehow. *Powerful are words."

Blessed is the man that
walketh not in the counsel of
the ungodly, nor standeth in the
way of sinners, nor sitteth in the
seat of the scornful.
2 But his delight is in the law of
the Lord; and in his law doth he
meditate day and night.
3 And he shall be like a tree
planted by the rivers of water,
that bringeth forth his furit in his
season; his leaf also shall not
wither; and whatsoever he doeth
shall prosper.
4 The ungodly are not so: but
are like the chaff which the wind
driveth away.
5 Therefore the ungodly shall
not stand in the judgment, nor
sinners in the congregation of the
righteous.
6 For the Lord knoweth the
way of the righteous: but the way
of the ungodly shall perish.

My heart doeth protest too much
I used her as a crutch.
She fades away...
In shades of grey;
My heart now turns to black.

One day after walking one day
The middle of March
I spied a young lady
Who drew first a spark

Later that night
She held out a hand
(I held on tight)
She caressed my back (and said)
“It’ll all be alright,
“you’re still here now
“that’s all that counts.
Replied ‘yea but’
“Thas all that counts”

In the restless night I’ve known
The restless poet who has sown
His vagabondish sheet
From cradle to street

What a sight for sore eyes
The mail that cuts is own lies (eyes)
Lies lies lies lies lies (eyes)

He lies (lays)
But doesn’t sleep
The cuckoo bird, well,
Doeth cheep
Or nightingale
Or owl
Which bears a ***** scowl
‘in the forests of the night’
Blakenly defying

“It’ll all be alright”

Run ye to and fro through the streets of Jerusalem, and see now, and know, and seek in the broad places thereof, if ye can find a man, if there be any that executeth judgment, that seeketh the truth; and I will pardon it.

2 And though they say, The Lord liveth; surely they swear falsely.

3 O Lord, are not thine eyes upon the truth? thou hast stricken them, but they have not grieved; thou hast consumed them, but they have refused to receive correction: they have made their faces harder than a rock; they have refused to return.

4 Therefore I said, Surely these are poor; they are foolish: for they know not the way of the Lord, nor the judgment of their God.

5 I will get me unto the great men, and will speak unto them; for they have known the way of the Lord, and the judgment of their God: but these have altogether broken the yoke, and burst the bonds.

6 Wherefore a lion out of the forest shall slay them, and a wolf of the evenings shall spoil them, a leopard shall watch over their cities: every one that goeth out thence shall be torn in pieces: because their transgressions are many, and their backslidings are increased.

7 How shall I pardon thee for this? thy children have forsaken me, and sworn by them that are no gods: when I had fed them to the full, they then committed adultery, and assembled themselves by troops in the harlots' houses.

8 They were as fed horses in the morning: every one neighed after his neighbour's wife.

9 Shall I not visit for these things? saith the Lord: and shall not my soul be avenged on such a nation as this?

10 Go ye up upon her walls, and destroy; but make not a full end: take away her battlements; for they are not the Lord's.

11 For the house of Israel and the house of Judah have dealt very treacherously against me, saith the Lord.

12 They have belied the Lord, and said, It is not he; neither shall evil come upon us; neither shall we see sword nor famine:

13 And the prophets shall become wind, and the word is not in them: thus shall it be done unto them.

14 Wherefore thus saith the Lord God of hosts, Because ye speak this word, behold, I will make my words in thy mouth fire, and this people wood, and it shall devour them.

15 Lo, I will bring a nation upon you from far, O house of Israel, saith the Lord: it is a mighty nation, it is an ancient nation, a nation whose language thou knowest not, neither understandest what they say.

16 Their quiver is as an open sepulchre, they are all mighty men.

17 And they shall eat up thine harvest, and thy bread, which thy sons and thy daughters should eat: they shall eat up thy flocks and thine herds: they shall eat up thy vines and thy fig trees: they shall impoverish thy fenced cities, wherein thou trustedst, with the sword.

18 Nevertheless in those days, saith the Lord, I will not make a full end with you.

19 And it shall come to pass, when ye shall say, Wherefore doeth the Lord our God all these things unto us? then shalt thou answer them, Like as ye have forsaken me, and served strange gods in your land, so shall ye serve strangers in a land that is not your's.

20 Declare this in the house of Jacob, and publish it in Judah, saying,

21 Hear now this, O foolish people, and without understanding; which have eyes, and see not; which have ears, and hear not:

22 Fear ye not me? saith the Lord: will ye not tremble at my presence, which have placed the sand for the bound of the sea by a perpetual decree, that it cannot pass it: and though the waves thereof toss themselves, yet can they not prevail; though they roar, yet can they not pass over it?

23 But this people hath a revolting and a rebellious heart; they are revolted and gone.

24 Neither say they in their heart, Let us now fear the Lord our God, that giveth rain, both the former and the latter, in his season: he reserveth unto us the appointed weeks of the harvest.

25 Your iniquities have turned away these things, and your sins have withholden good things from you.

26 For among my people are found wicked men: they lay wait, as he that setteth snares; they set a trap, they catch men.

27 As a cage is full of birds, so are their houses full of deceit: therefore they are become great, and waxen rich.

28 They are waxen fat, they shine: yea, they overpass the deeds of the wicked: they judge not the cause, the cause of the fatherless, yet they prosper; and the right of the needy do they not judge.

29 Shall I not visit for these things? saith the Lord: shall not my soul be avenged on such a nation as this?

30 A wonderful and horrible thing is committed in the land;

31 The prophets prophesy falsely, and the priests bear rule by their means; and my people love to have it so: and what will ye do in the end thereof?

I need me a spirit, a human soul,
Somebody my body to keep,
to lay down beside me, and rock-a-by softly,
as I fail to drift off to sleep,

to sing me a lullaby, gentle, yet pure,
of promises kept in the night,
for my mind it doeth wander to terrible places,
where love turns to anger and spite.

Maria, if you’d be so bold,
as to tell me a story of old,
a fantasy fairytale of true love’s triumph,
over anguish of hearts grown cold.

If left to my daemons, my madness draws near'r,
‘till belatedly morning arrives,
a new day of promise, yet I barely notice,
perpetual sleep in my eyes…

Maria, if you could conceive,
a story for mine ears, to weave,
a fantasy fairytale of “love conquers all”,
Like the ones that I used to believe…

Dan Bryce

A slithering snake;
Afraid in the grass.
On his belly he wriggles;
But can't take a step back.
The rodent has sniffled
Where doeth he belong?
Suddenly swooping ;
An awe-inspiring Owl from heaven swoops down;
          to Save.
But the prey is afraid.
There's no grey;



in lifes laid. Be very afraid. Be very... afraid.

Dark and dangerous damsels all!
Harken my heed to The Hall!
There you'll find your broken man
Once so steady, word in hand
Chivalrous intentions still persist,
Would-be lovers yet insist
Hear this claim throughout the land
Heartbreak has made its final stand.

First kiss lies you put upon
His love-struck desire openly drawn
Clever whispers, tokens of deceit
Offer false promise, a life complete
Should he ever since true love find
Stoic, honorable, warm and kind
Instead a woman forging frozen heat
Herself all others she doeth cheat.

Your truths belie deceptive folly
Words disgrace values melancholy
The plays and acts of your selfish charm
Cannot try dissuade his sharp alarm
You’ve duly sung your siren's song
He’s awakened thus! And leaped headlong
No halting now from hero’s harm
His pain, eternal efforts to disarm.

Heroes have reached long for your heart
Gentry ambitions caused noble start
Lady Deception has lain her claws
Directly tearing virtuous cause
She cannot help herself, it seems
Her temperamental manner schemes
The love inside must surely die
From both the suitor and her lie
Nothing left save bitter dreams
O’ hollow silent endless screams.


Heroes die many of macabre accord
Falling upon their daunted sword
Worthless promise she has vowed
Nothing more than Vesta's shroud
Young men’s promise to hold true
Has been destroyed, Alas! By the few
Tarts and trollops plague the crowd
Harsh lessons ‘ere romance once proud

True love’s cunning and deceitful face
Condemned Sampson rout the Temple place!
By serpent’s tongue she doth speak
Where only true love he doth seek
Ill-mannered maids feign mystery
While decent men test history
Release me from thy maiden's bane
And surrender myself, devoted, again
To summit true love's crowning  peak
No folly left,
Mine heart is weak.

Upon this dream I shall die
Amid a broken hero's cry
Heed all acting faithfulness
With all one's heart must profess
Love is not a sword to parry
T’is but a gift, a song to carry
Take from these words my heart and sing
Of not cruelty, strife, or suffered King
No blood upon his battle dress
Valiant pursuits across mine chest.

Taker,
Take openly thou fool of non-fruited spirit!!!
Consecrator of pulse feelings,
Registrator of knighted dealings!!!!
                   Thy commitment to one means nothing,
                   Yet something means something to all who know no commandment,
Abandonment,
Surely runs across the express of adherance!!!

Longetivities lost hut is overly done,
       Nothing is won't If you lost the poker skilled bet!!!

Doeth thou as so much as care yet?

Dont throw in all thy chips,
Manipulator of long finger nailed strips!!!

      The newsboy doth not show around these ways,
No news,
               All new-fangled misgivers,
Mischief singers misdirect all pity platoons!!!

Thy twin glossed repugnance is caught quietly,
Piece by piece,
You string up the earth to the next distant crescent!!!

Proprietor,
                  What shall thou propose?

Art thou the puppet played bafoon?

Bungalow bunkie,
Doth thou awaken or sleep to thy dust you accumulate?

Captious are one's these slothful ciggarrete nights!!!

Electrolight,
Come near that I may feel warmth,
As a child in early birth I seek forane high class milk,
Footlights on stilts do the the actors take high position!!
Not seeking the inefficient,
But the tower of Babel gone lost!!!!

Injurious kirtles are kinless,
Thy best friend is now friend less,
Due to thine own kindness!!!!

Lamb-kin darling,
Canst thou lance these burns to cuts?
For what's missing in the soot?
Lamenting chalice...

A king and a queens palace I'll die to live in,
For a smile and a grin cannot be weighed!!!

Hay/fever will take the fidelity of what's polite!!!

Damoclean of wintergreen,
Do you flatter by ones self?
Or doth thou Get help from dandering blotters!!!!

Intimate plotters of murderer's and lost hopes fun!!!
Chatoyant skin doeth I wish to feel once,
Where thy stage is real_,
No stunts!!!!!

Just reality of cavern lathered seducing!!!!

WHEN I LEAVE THIS WORLD; I DON'T WANT TO FEEL SAD.  SINCE I'LL BE GOING TO MEET THE LORD, THIS WILL MAKE ME GLAD.
SINCE I HAD A FULFILLING LIFE, IT WOULDN'T BOTHER ME IF I LEFT.  I WANT LOVE TO SURROUND ME, AND EVERYWHERE MAY IT BE FELT.
WHEN I LEAVE THIS WORLD; RESIST BRINGING SADNESS AROUND.  I SPENT MY ENTIRE LIFE, KEEPING YOU FROM WEARING A FROWN.
PLEASE COME AROUND WITH SOMETHING VERY FUNNY.  THIS WILL REALLY MAKE ME LAUGH, SOMETHING WORTH MORE THAN ANY MONEY.
THE BIBLE SAYS, "A MERRY HEART DOETH GOOD LIKE A MEDICINE," SO GIVE ME WHAT I NEED.  I WANT YOU TO ALWAYS REMEMBER, YOU HAVE DONE A GREAT DEED!
BY, AUTHOR & POET,  SANDRA JUANITA NAILING

Kriekgeguard: Sö tall meh how ya doeth wit despair,
and all fir of flams flewing and chewing yir up,
that the hole time yir piercenality waz,
so streing to solve it, but yir did it,
in wreighting of odders wreighting yirself down,
for yirs and yirs and yirs, the hole time
and wie all wanted tingz easey,
sö as yi sayeth, you maketh things hart,
möre difficult for understanding,
how to deal cards with comeflict
as it is with the absolutelysurd world?
Crosstianity, come thinkets, is nothing 'ese aftir all.
So cometh rill empairic, roll yir thongue.
Tall true the true tailing.

Sore: Tired Ae got.
But righting is noting,
it is a smull bud of rose,
and roses out of noting,
Ignore how day and day only tell you:
"You are a great prose stylist, you know the craft, I don't"
For a fukd, Ae might be called a prose cyclist,
but it is not me, it is the kisses muse,
you never forget it for a fukd,
first you note in, then you synthesize, symphonise, syncrosise.
It is all just music.

My first REAL friend....
Younger, but wiser.
He accepted hisself.
Because "it" was acceptable.
Better god than I
I wait for his reply.
To see.
If, indeed;
I doeth see.