I locked mineself
To her leg;
I swallowed the key
I shackled mineself, into her head.

I seeketh not to be free
By wordly standard;
The great architect
Showed me, I'm free with her, tis she is mine lantern.


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

AN DORCHADAS

The Dark had come
alive.

Prowled about outside.

He stayed still.
Perfectly still.

So the Dark wouldn't
see him.

The Dark seemed to sense
his living presence.

It tore at the window
wounding the glass

leaving large
scratchy marks.

The window howled.

The Dark outside
spilling into the room

thickening the Dark
inside with its outside

filling the room with
a Dark deeper now

a Darkness one could
drown in.

The Darkness laughed
thickened...congealed about me.

Somewhere a clock
ticked too loudly

gobbling all the time up
( and there was precious little time left )
down to the dregs.

The Dark was hard and heavy
- solid.

He would have to cut through it
slash at it to part it.

The Dark slurped at him
with its rough cat's tongue

as if it would. . .
teasing...testing...tasting

"Quick. quick. . .!"
whispered Sleep in a furious hiss.

Sleep opened a trap door in itself
as the Dark lapped at him

he just had time to
slip inside.

The Dark growling
throwing itself against Sleep

with such rage
Sleeps's hinges...rattling...buckling

before the Darkness
padded away with a snarl.

Morning laughed itself
into his head

( "You ok kid!" )

bringing with it a cat's meow
a tracery of birdsong and

as much sunlight
it could drag behind it.

Stuffed as much sun as it could
into his awakening bedroom.

A tree tapped at the window.
"Hey kid...remember me!"

It was still 1963
and the dark hadn't gotten him.

"Come and play!"
said the day.
"Come and play!"

So, he - did.

The night now very
very far away.