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brandon nagley Sep 2015
i.

Mine Dame
Unfasten mine cream pigment barong;
Scuff the tiny button's, serenadeth me with Tagalog.

ii.

None need for baon
Where we shalt go is not strained by materialism;
This is not a place of Balaam.

iii.

Mother-naked, ourn quiddity's latched
None leviathan demonic's, no human electronic's;
Mine darling, hug closely, none murrain pain's to be hatched.

iv.

Mine foremost, drinketh with me
Amour's Buko juice as a toast;
A barkada of high-up angelic's to guide ourn ghost's.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication/Filipino rose
A barong is a Filipino style shirt for a man... For you wondering title.
Tagalog is one of the Philippines many dialects.
baon other words is personal items.
Balaam is one who was worshiped in ancient israel. Also Balaam is known as a demon in Torah one who rules many dominions of demons.
Mother-naked just means purely naked.
Quiddity means
the inherent nature or essence of someone or something.
Leviathan means -noun
(in biblical use) a sea monster, identified in different passages with the whale and the crocodile (e.g., Job 41, Ps. 74:14), and with the Devil (after Isa. 27:1).
Murrain is an infectious disease of animal's.
Buko juice pretty much Filipino coconut water.
Barkada is slang for group of friends in the Philippines..
You are my
Ensorcelled Elysium,
You are my
Eden Dream.

You cascade
Upon my Dreamscape,
Enshrine my slumber in
A flowered gale of aromatic petals
That envelop me, beckon me
To herald the rebirth
Of Days of Yore.

You vein
The Glistening Glade of Memories
With your
Brooks of Aqueous Emerald.

Tis' the
Phantasmagoric Plane
Where still
My wayworn spirit wanders, wearily
In search of the magic
To enfetter
The Hands of Fate
(For they conspire against us).

Swifter than your descent
Into my soul
(Five seconds still and flat)
By
The nexus of your affections,
You evanesced
Like vapor,
Yet
I shall not concede to
The Malevolent Matriarch of Destiny.

For you
O, Breath of Life,
Forsook me not
So I sublime all stains
Tarnishing my flesh
By cries to The Ethereal.

At midday
Awaiting the Twilight
I long for
The birth of The Womb of Aether’s
Progeny,
Starlit winds.

I muse
Swimmingly in Seas of Reminiscence,
Banished from that Blackened Bastion
Of Shadowed Heavens,
For when darkness shrouds
My dreams can be seen
Draping the skies.

I then fathom,
You must not be far off,
Wishing,
Hoping,
Believing
That perhaps
You too
Wonder upon stars
Longing to find that one
That entwines us anew.

You shall alight,
Upon me once more
As
August Sun’s Nimbus
(If only for a moment)
Is thwarted
By
Ebony Miasma
That drenches Cimmerian skies.

In search
Of Ardor’s Light abiding in
The Sylvan Shrine of Your Numinous Eyes
I plead that
The Crag oppress
The Coals of Tribulation,
Until my anguish is
A Diamond Heart.

The pilgrimage
I must bear,
Must be traveled by
The Adamantine alone.

Where have you gone,
Tree of Life?
Why have you withered,
Yggdrasil?

Do I possess
The Eradia of Souls,
By which you shall
Effloresce?

I would halt the cogs of time,
Relinquish my liberty,
To slumber for eternity
In crystal stasis
By your side.

Even in that crystalline quietude,
I would be eminent,
I would be exalted,
I would be ennobled,
In the knowingness that
Your
Stalwart Heart
Radiates
Just beside me.

I exhale Empyrean Winds
When rapt in reverie,
Yearning to be
Captive to your devotion,
Yours alone.

The Bliss of Your Most Holy Kiss
Would signet me
With the
Bounty of Your Name
Burnishing the skin
On my lips.

Though ephemeral,
Your presence divined,
Your presence
Was my anointing.

To be solaced
By the astral resonance emitted
By your touch
Sent the
Pulse of Nirvana
Surging, rippling,
Like a kaleidoscope tide,
Down my spine

You are
The Waters of Vitality
That floweth from
The Creeks of Eden,

You have been
Poured upon my palate
From the
Goblet of Redemption
That I may drinketh
Of
Supernal immortality.

When once again we meet,
Perhaps the tears you summoned
From my spirit
By your
Stirring caress
Shall have absolved me
Of the pangs
In loving a man
(And man alone).

Perhaps then,
The sentiments
I pine to profess,
Will resound.

A melody
Sung in legato,
A  mellifluous melisma,
Flawlessly delineated
And
Intonation in deiform
Or perhaps,
Flowering fioritura
Lacing airwaves,
By the Empress Coloratura.

Perhaps then, piety
Betwixt you and I,
Will waft the air
And I might then,
Permit my quaking body
To succumb to
You alone.

Until that morn,
I shall be vigilant,
Counting the Dawns,
Counting the Twilights,
Until
I can gaze
Into your forested eyes
If even for but a moment.

For even but a moment
Spent with you,
Will bleed a nostalgia
Across my mind's sky,
Painting clouds crimson with passion,
And
That I shall revere,
And
That shall last
And last
And,
Last… And
Last.

O, it will last,
To Elysian Infinity.


            I am a vestige,
               But I shall live once more,
                  In the light of memories
                       That blossom, are perennial,
                           And imbibe the dazed glory of the past
                       Until the past is vanquished
                 By a future that is fragrant
             With the mist of romance
          And eclipses the simulacrum,
       A fictitious sun of the infernal masquerade,
    The antithesis of the truest holy,
Then, rapture of life shall mystify no longer,
For the Numen of Truth,
  Shall cleanse creation without a drop of façade,
      His Providence shall emancipate the hollow,
             The Death of Dreams shall writhe
               In everlasting abeyance,
                 Absolving our wayward spirits,
                  The Winds of Change,
                  The Scourge of Pain,
               And
          The Loveless Wraiths
        That haunted our husks
      Shall be transcended for aeons,
  And tribulation made distant, made nebulous
As the Genesis of Time and Space itself
  For we embark on an exodus,
     Beseeching salvation to redeem us
        When the Requiem of Iniquity
           Is triumphed by everlasting cadence.

Be Valiant,
                 Be Sapient,
                             Be Love
                                       And
                                          By this
                                                You shall conquer the world
                                                           ∞
Hello my fellow comrades! This piece was originally written as a means of catharsis. I wanted to express the romantic sentiments begotten by an individual who deliquesced from my world as swiftly as they arrived. I hope you guys can glean virtues of humanity, poignancy, candor, and (an organic) transparency in this piece. I want to impress the density of reverence pulsing in my heart for the person who enraptured me by the thew of their tenderness and kindred spirit.

Hopefully the massive length of this piece does not deter from reading its contents. Holistically speaking, the volume of content in this piece is the metaphorical incarnation of the Ocean of Affection that ebbs and flows within my soul (for this individual). I would love to improve, so if you have any constructive feedback you'd like to convey I would be most grateful. Anyhow, I hope that on some level you can connect with the overtones of undying piety in love that deluge this piece. Thank you all for reading and God bless!
Dreams
Are euphony
Of thought,
Of heart,
Of body,
Of the splendid,
Of the soul,

(Unbinding our once
Spectral Fates
          That spiraled down
The Keys of Life
Tainted by
The Greatest of Dissonance)

My Redolent Reverie,
Sweetened by
Mellifluous Nectar Tides
Of cherished moments
Steeped for eons
In our
Carnal yearnings
Are made anew
By the Cosmogonist’s Hands
Of Eternity

(O, for I
Doth doven the skies,
That the Incendiary Wings
Of the Auburn Pheonix
Imbue me
With the Souls Acquisition
Of Golden Pinions
                      Of the Thew of Vitality).

Captive visions,
Slumber in
My Azure Dreamer’s Chest
Engraved with
The Insignia of Archaic Fates
Upon it’s
Starry Epidermis
Till skies fall
To the Terrene
And
The Luminaries
Shall rest
Betwixt
The palms of my hands

(O, for then
This Juggernaut of a Man
That I am
Shall Effloresce
Ceasing to be
     That Loveless Sentinel,
The Guardian over
The Bastion Heart
He fathoms
Impregnable)

.Ensorcelled Butterflies
Radiate
Lovelit Lavender Light
Upon that
Astral Parcel,
Lulling my weary eyes
By the
Sovereignty of Monarchial Wings
Vanquishing the doubts
Once blurring
My Kaleidoscopic Dreams
(Life’s Iridescent Seal
Branded upon
My forehead
And etherealizing
My exhalations
                    Till crystalline)

My sullied heart
Pulses shadowed winds
(The Sweeping Gales of Solemnity)
Without the
Blissful Kiss of Cadence
Resonating an
Ebony surge
Deeper,
Than first octave tonality
Of abyssal timbre.

I beseech you,
Unfurl those forested eyes
My Desiderata Materialista,
That I may
Drinketh of your
Emerald Streams,
Ineffably Pristine.

(For then
I shall be
Spirited away
      To Eden,
My existence
     Shall become
Nirvanic Transcendence)

To pine is a pang,
To envisage
Is to breath.

Perhaps that
Is the only solace
My feeble soul
Can bear,
Without you.

By your alabaster skin
Vein my eyes
With luminescence.

With your tender caress
Saunter my
Voracious skin.

Weave my Chrysalis,
By your
Susurrant voice.

Cocoon me
In your
Flawless serenade,
That I metamorphose
Bearing the
Sacrosanct Wings of Phantasmagoria
And
The Melisma of Your Piety.

Pearlescent blood
Floweth within me,
Like baptismal rain,
As I muse
When you alight
Once more
In my Cosmos.

I am yours,
Floral Fallal.

~Our fears are the burdens
    Of the Vestige of the Past,
      A hollow cry
       That fights to exist
         In a zeitgeist
           That flowers
              Quicker than
                Our hearts know how to beat.
                          
                     Unfurl your Gates
                           To the Arbiter of Fates,
                              Unearth the Hallowed Crystals
                                 Of your Garnetiferous Passion
                                    That takes shape
                                        Because you…

                               O, Stalwart Knight,
                                    You were cosmic
                                         Like myriad raindrops,
                                           Mystic echoes
                                              Emancipating­ your spirit
                                                 From the trepidation
                                                     ­    Of the mortal kind.

                                                   Evolve,                                            
                                Evanesce,                       ­   
                                                  For to be Ephemeral                      
                                 ­                Means to conquer                                  
That Magisterial Oblivion.
                                                       ­     Se’lah.~
Hey guys! I've been doing a great deal of experimenting with my writing as of late. This piece is an embodiment of all the introspection, musings, tribulations, and heartbreaks I have experienced as of late. I hope you all can appreciate this piece despite the quasi-obscurant references that I present bereft of explicit detail.

The core of this piece lies in the fundamental nature of our dreams, yearnings, and aspirations (as well as the shadows born of the loveless blight). It effloresced it something much greater as I continued to refine it. Hope you guys like! God bless!
J.
J.
Ah, J.
A love I hath excitedly longed to find,
A love t'at previously had no name.
J.
A love too thrilling for my sights to feel,
and perhaps th' only love t'at couldst make me thrilled;
A love so genuine and benevolent,
A love so talented and intelligent.
Ah, J.
A love t'at just recently landed on my mind;
And made all my lyrical days far more splendid;
A love t'at briefed, and altered me more and more;
A love so chilly and important, with subt'leness like never before.
Ah, J.
My very, very own J.
Perhaps my future king, my precious, but at times villainous-darling.
Oh, J.
And perhaps I am just not as virtuous as I might be,
But t'is poem shall still be about thee;
For thou art-within my minds, still awkwardly th' best one,
With a pair of oceanic eyes too dear; and a civil charm so fine.
J.
J, o my love.
If only thou knew-how oceans sparkles within thy eyes,
And 'tis only in thy eyes, t'at any of t'ese complications might not become eerie,
And then t'is destiny is true, as well as how truth is our destiny;
So t'at any precarious delicacy is still faint-perhaps, but not a lie.
Oh, J.
A bubble of excitement t'at my heart feelest;
But if consented not, shall be the wound no blood couldst heal;
Ah, J, if the heavens' rainbow wert fallen, t'an thou'd be purer;
Born as a sin as us all humans, thou art cleaner to my heart still, and canst but love me much better.
Ah, J.
If only thou knew-how madness floweth and barketh and drinketh from our spheres,
But even th' devil cannot spill its curse on our strangled love;
At least until everything is deaf-and we duly cannot hear,
As skies descend onto th' sore earth; and our dumb sins are t' be sent above.

J.
How pivotal thou art to me-if only yon foliage couldst understand;
If only t'ose winds were not rivals, but one-or at least wanted to be friends.
Ah, J, even only thy words filled my comical ******* to th' brim;
And as far as heavens' angels canst hear, I am no more in love with him.
Ah, J.
'Tis cause my verses are seeking thy name, and his not;
I may create th' words, but thou deviseth my plots;
Ah, and him, the bulk of egotism, and whose frank misery;
Are but too disastrous to me, and in possession of too much agony.
Oh, J.
Thus thou art th' only one who remaineth solemn;
Th' one to remain ecstatic, and as less aggressive as calmness;
But of the broad thoughts I used to think of him, I feel shame;
He is just some unborn trepidation at night-though on fine mornings, he is tame.
Ah, J.
Let me disclose th' egress of thy journey, and tellest me now-is which towards mine?
Ah, thee, thou who art so bounty, and deliciously fine;
And t'ese thoughts of thee-are often tasty, and oft'times generous;
'Ven when thou'rt mad, and thy chanting is vigorously serious.
Ah, J.
Thee, a soul of painless blood;
Whose disgrace hath been buried;
Whose vanities hath been laid off;
Whose miracles hath been lavished on.
Ah, J.
Thou art one bright portrayal of my merit;
I fell'n love with thee in a single bit.
Thou bore my tears, and scorned away my guilt;
And in th' swaying summertime, thou wert my protective shield.
Thus my, my very own J.
My gale-like, and unutterably luscious poem;
About whom my thoughts are jolly, but mindful and insensible;
Ah, J, I wish I were more frail, paler, and gullible;
Ah, but if only being so couldst make me more compatible.
Oh, J.
And compatible, compatible with thee alone;
Fleshly be thine whenst all is borne on thy own;
Be thy only trusted companion, and thy eloquently verified wife;
Be thine, and thine in wifery only, throughout and for th' rest of thy life.
J.
All Let me then guess but the tranquility of thy thoughts-hath thou gone mad?
Behind us are rainbows, and thus thy songs should not be sad;
But even though they were sad, I wouldst lend thee my heart;
So t'at no summer sunshine couldst further tear us apart.
J.
Ah, J, why are th' blue skies far too impatient in thy eyes?
Just as how thy deep scent is febrile in my air;
Thy gushes of breath are thick in my young weather;
As buoyant as yon summer itself; as voluptuous as lingering daisies.
J.
And t'is ****** scream, within my heart, needs indeed-t' be fulfilled;
And its vulnerability t'ere always, to be killed;
Ah, J, t'ere is 'finitely no poem as beautiful as thee;
T'ere is no writing yet as such, as trivial and distant-as my eyes canst see.
J.
Ah, J, darling, and my very fine darling; is chastity to thee virtuous?
About which my soul is hungered-and t'ereby curious;
But if 'tis so, I shall be merry-and ever meekly laborious;
I shall make it tender, and maketh it a reliant gift, to thee.
J.
Ah, J, and thou came to me one aft'rnoon, with a sweet muteness;
For to thee, poems are far more pivotal to a young poetess;
Yes, and far prettier t'an a beastly bunch of words;
Whose curse is whose sweetness itself-and whose whole sweetness is curse.
J.
Ah, J, so shall I be thy pure lady t'en?
For purity is a curse-and related not within t'ese walls;
Walls of discomfort-irresolute and at certain times foreign still;
Walls t'at shun us-and be ours not, due to t'eir own reserved castigations.
J.
Oh, querida, my random rainbow-but still my dearest querida;
My poetry in th' morning, and th' baffling flute, for my evening sonata;
And as it is sounded, I shall be thy private lonely prelude;
But th' one who maketh thee singular, and nevertheless, handsomely proud.
Ah, J.
And thy perfect red lips are th' stillettos of the sun;
Critical but radiant-all too agonising in t'eir inevitable shape;
So t'at kissing might be just too much fun;
And from which, o my love, t'ere is no such a famous escape.

J.
Ah, J, thou knoweth not-I am asleep only within thy remembrance;
As how I am awake only in thy life, and partake of my justice, in thy glory.
Ah, J, but if satire were the only choice we had, shalt thou be with me?
Ah, my J, for be it so-I shall never regret anything, I shall never say sorry.

J.
Ah, wherefore art thou now, my love? I am now cursed. My dreams are mad.
I am now crawling out of whose realms; I wanteth but'a stay no more in my bed.
Ah, J, but in my dream thou wert too miles and miles away, and indolently anonymous;
I hatest sleep t'ereof, for t'ey piercest me so tiringly, with a harm they deemest as humorous.

J.
Ah, sweet darling, and in our dreams, t'ere is no strain, nor piety;
Even thou-in th' last one, despised my pyramids-and my chaste poetry;
Ah, querida, I am but afraid our loneliness shall be gone 'fore long;
For its temporariness is not sick, and canst work its way along, with a belief so strong.

J.
Ah, love, but t'is loveliness itself-is indeed tyrannous,
And its frigid poetry is randomly perilous,
As how th' daydreams it bringeth forth-which are luminous,
But as love is innocent, by one second canst all turn perilous!
J.
Ah, J, thus our story is brilliant, and in any volume real' magnificent,
With curves palatable, but with some greyness too fair-and too pleasant!
Ah, J, if passion dost exist, and thus maketh it all real;
And at once I shall understand thee; and listen only, to how we both feelest.

Ah, J.
My very, very own little J.
My dearest J.
The harbour of my ultimate love.
My most cordial, and serene spring of affection.
My most veritable nirvana, my vivid curiosity-and shades of frankness.
My dream at heart, and my sustainable ferocious haste.
Th' love in which my ever fear shall subside,
And be overwhelmed by its unfearing light.
J.
Oh, J, my glossy, exuberant darling.
And as more winds sway, and amongst the green grass outside,
I canst but feel thy eyes here watching;
Thy eyes t'at widely grinneth, and flirtest with my poetry itself;
Thy eyes t'at forever invitest, yet are all more daring than myself;
Ah, J, even though t'is love may be a secret scene,
But I hath felt, even vulnerably, not any provoking passion so keen-
For though they couldst my flowed veins hear,
They were still delicately unseen-with a serenity t'at was ne'er here.
Stu Harley Jul 2015
Lord
thy soul
chant your name
from this
river of light
where
i return  
i drinketh twice
O Love, Love, Love! O withering might!
O sun, that from thy noonday height
Shudderest when I strain my sight,
Throbbing thro' all thy heat and light,
      Lo, falling from my constant mind,
      Lo, parch'd and wither'd, deaf and blind,
      I whirl like leaves in roaring wind.

Last night I wasted hateful hours
Below the city's eastern towers:
I thirsted for the brooks, the showers:
I roll'd among the tender flowers:
      I crush'd them on my breast, my mouth;
      I look'd athwart the burning drouth
      Of that long desert to the south.

Last night, when some one spoke his name,
From my swift blood that went and came
A thousand little shafts of flame
Were shiver'd in my narrow frame.
      O Love, O fire! once he drew
      With one long kiss my whole soul thro'
      My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.

Before he mounts the hill, I know
He cometh quickly: from below
Sweet gales, as from deep gardens, blow
Before him, striking on my brow.
      In my dry brain my spirit soon,
      Down-deepening from swoon to swoon,
      Faints like a daled morning moon.

The wind sounds like a silver wire,
And from beyond the noon a fire
Is pour'd upon the hills, and nigher
The skies stoop down in their desire;
      And, isled in sudden seas of light,
      My heart, pierced thro' with fierce delight,
      Bursts into blossom in his sight.

My whole soul waiting silently,
All naked in a sultry sky,
Droops blinded with his shining eye:
I will possess him or will die.
      I will grow round him in his place,
      Grow, live, die looking on his face,
      Die, dying clasp'd in his embrace.
brandon nagley Apr 2017
i.

Woe unto thee O' man, making woman thine thrall, beating her, bruising her, O' how God dost see it all. Woe unto thee making innocent toy-***-slaves, build thy Bunker's in thine deep caves, for thy statues and idols wilt be moth-eaten, cankered; just as thy silver and gold.

ii.

Woe unto thee O' man, taking innocent soul's, young men fight and die, whilst dear mother's cry, look to the sky's; for the signs of Prophecy art awake, stay alert O' elite men for how the ground is soon to quake.

iii.

Woe unto thee O' man, blasting bomb's in foreign lands, making robots human, and robots men; how technology hast become thine own savior. But thou shan't be saved, just running away, as thy streets wilt fill with the blood to be spilt and crumbling skyscrapers.

iv.

Woe unto thee O' man, spraying chemicals in ourn midst, slowly murdering the innocent; whilst thou drinketh toddlers cruor to keep alive another day.

v.

Woe unto thee O' man, pushing deception on TV, media puppets thou doth feed, CIA infiltration with thy greed. O' soon thy airwaves wilt be shocking. Thy earth
Wilt mourn like cradles rocking,
Making Christmas not of the
Messiah but of stockings,
Filled with lust and
Filth.

vi.

Woe unto thee O' man, grab some stilts, walk highly with thy head in the clouds, as thou hath all pride and None shame.

vii.

Woe unto thee O' man, for thou knowest not pain, for what's coming to this sphere shalt make men's hearts fail them.

viii.

Woe unto thee O' man, judgements art coming as I shalt detail some thing's as
For me to thee I was sent. Quakes in high
Magnitude, an Antichrist and his false
Prophet, whom shalt rule for seven year's,
A mark of the beast (RFID chip) in the forehead and right hand, don't yet shed none tears yet for these things all were
Planned. A one world religion coming
Together as the false prophet wilt make,
The last 113th Pope is here, many lies
He gives and takes. Predicted by two
Saint Malachi's, of the last great deciever
Of the Church; he gathers all religions as the Bible dost sayest, so don't let thy feelings get hurt. All religions wilt gather, after the rapture of the church, the rapture is Jesus Christ rescuing his People, from the Antichrists coming scorch. As in the moment in the twinkling of an eye, believers in Jesus Christ like bird's wilt disappear and fly, high in the clouds to meet ourn Lord in the air, news channels wilt be reporting (MILLIONS PLUS MISSING) MANY NOT HERE!) The Antichrist is here now, he wilt soon (return) many will bow to an image made for him during the seven years of God's judgement that shalt be felt-heard. The Antichrist shalt hath anyone killed who doesn't worship his fatal image, for anyone whom takes his mark (RFID chip) wilt be eternally ****** for hells own wishes. Though Christ didst not come for to judge the world, but to save, the sinners, all humanity, were all sinner's on display. For Christ died on that cross, was mocked spat upon, beard ripped out, holes in wrists and feet, after his soul left his body the sun turned dark, the moon blood the Earth's shook for his own People killed gods son, the only name that gets thee to heaven; Yeshua hamashiach ( Jesus the Messiah) alpha, Omega, beginning and end. Life of living water, bread from heaven. He's always the same yesterday and today. As must I sayest to fireballs shalt come, and tsunamis so high people can't run. War wilt be nuclear as battles shalt rage in Israel, Christ came not for thy damnation as thou hath been taught, he came to save the soul. The Lord said ( I am the way truth and the life, no man cometh to the father God but by me,) that means only through Jesus, gods son, canst thou be free. Theres none other escape from these things coming to pass and things to be. Salvation was payed on that cross for thou and me. Now it's they own decision where thou Wilt spend eternity, a very real hell descibed in death and ourn gospels seen. Yet don't take mine word reader, thou canst try to ignore all the day, I just came to tell thee who died for thee, Yeshua (Jesus) his name. There's much more I couldst sayest but I'll leave thee with this, John 3:16,( For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.) He opens his arm's to thee O' reader, it's time to make thy choice, the morrow
Might not be here for thee, Christ offers
These words with his voice.

© Brandon nagley
© Lonesome poet's poetry
Word meanings:
Woe until thee; Christ used to say this alot to the scribe's and Pharisees who's heart's were hardened and eyes were closed, as his own Jewish people sadly rejected him and they still reject him alot today though the 12 tribe's of Israel will come back to him as the book of Revelation speaks in the  judgement hour of (7) years of tribulation.
Thee; you.
Thine- your. Thy also means your.
Thrall; slave.
Dost; do and does
Doth; do
When I say build their Bunker's in caves the book of Revelation speaks this would happen as the elite high rich people are building Bunker's all across the globe Miles underground you can search it in Google , their miles under the earth miles long they are building it because of planet x (nibiru) and other planets in our solar system being caught on film all in YouTube and the web footage everywhere thus why I said to in poem spraying (chemicals) in our midst. They spray over 40 chemicals in our air (chemtrailing) lines that aren't regular plane lines left in our sky but they make tic tac toe in sky and starts opening up looking like whispy clouds as they aren't real clouds, they are spraying to cover up planet x (nibiru) near the sun already here and other planets in our solar system that came in with this planet x. As suggest all go back read my poem ( nibirus approach on here ) .
Wilt; means will.
Whilst; while.
Art; art.
Hast; has
Hath; have.
Thine; your.
Shant- shall not.
Ourn; our
Drinketh; drink
I bring up elite drinking youth blood this is actually something well known luciferians do, take youth blood getting it iv style in their veins because they believe it's keeping them alive longer. Ya these are the real people who run your globe you can look it all up yourself if want truth not feel good lies.
Knowest.
When I say things coming upon this earth will make men's hearts fail them, our Bible speaks men's hearts will literally fail them from looking at things that will come upon this earth.
Canst; can
Some links for you to read asap

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1837677/serious-note-not-poemyour-time-is-running-out-readerjudgement-is-coming-to-the-world-read-find-out-how-to-escape-tribulation-coming/

Link 2 read notes below this poem

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1874075/nibirus-approach-thy-end-is-close/
Ignatius Hosiana Apr 2016
Man
Drinketh
where
he
worketh
if
he
worketh
in
a
bar
Started managing my brother's bar...already receiving offers from the customers LoL
Tyler Castro Mar 2017
Doth drinketh thine darkest drink
No cream no sugar
And thine legs make haste
No wait no niceties
For if not, the poison shall leak from thine ******
But at least you'll be awake through it all

Tyler Castro
3/20/17
Coffee Run
brandon nagley Nov 2015
I'm the blood
Inside her vein's;
In love, O' love,
Madly insane.
Pouring down
Like sensual rain;
I'm the blood
Inside her vein's.
I feedeth her heart
Into her soul,
I enter in silver
She cometh out
Gold; I'm the blood
Inside her vein's,
Inside her mouth
I swirl again, tis
I'm the love inside
Her head, I enter
On in, angelic
sentient; tis
I'm the spirit
Inside her chalice,
She drinketh me, over-
Taketh me by her
Asian palace: im the
Blood inside her vein's,
I'm vital, I'm living,
Once again; I'm the king
Inside her dream's, inside her chamber, tis do I sleep.
I'm the blood inside her vein's, and O' how sweet doth her plasma taste. Tis I'm the blood inside her vein's........



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedicated
andy fardell Mar 2013
Soul of darkness covers my face
As the liquid sin quenches my thirst
For hunger
Can you hear the birds my friend?
Can you feel them fly?
Listen to the night time dreams
Hear my inner cry

The morning gods have lost their war
Done drinketh all the way  
This ****** night of horror rule
Pure madness seeks
My way

These eyes gone red through cracks of dawn
May never see the light
As crazy horses fill my storm
My horrors dream
Delight

I'd woken to the silence
No birds of death to flutter
Yet!!!

Sweated brow seeped my vision
These thoughts I'd wandered in
Unbalanced in a pool of dread
My nightmare was not
This over

Fingers pressed to form my eyes
No sleep that I must take
My troubled madness
Laughable
Please keep my eyes
Awake
Please keep my eyes
Awake
brandon nagley Jul 2015
They taketh all for granted, they smile whilst they ****
On ****** they savor over, like hellion getting their Thrill's;
They hath to drink to numb, they hath to tune out by pill's
They've lost the truth meaning, of giving without seeking deal's.

They've thrown it all to the wind, aloft the heaven's they've come
Their fears and tears art heavy, wherein their cruor is succumb;
They drinketh of nothingness, they art their own chosen one's
Bombing another out of land difference, tanning to the sun.

Lover's of themselves, they seeketh to giveth none charity
They awake to the darkness, their in much disparity;
And whilst the moon cometh out, they howl like stray dog's
They seeketh only themselves, in reality they loseth all.


©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poet's poetry
Amy Foreman Feb 2017
Ye are the salt of the earth; . . . (Matthew 5:13)


Preservative or pickler in the brine,
To render flora, fauna for our good,
Or season, that the flavor ever should
Appeal to palate, coarsest fare refine.
That drawing, drying halite from the mine,
Which whitens pasture, threatens livelihood,
Keeps calling out for only That which could
Begin to slake, assuage its arid shine.
And what but Water satiates our thirst?
The salty food that makes us crave the cup,
That bone-dry want for quenching from Above
Just proves the pow’r that salt had from the first
To drive us toward the Life that fills us up--
And plunge our thirsty souls into His Love.



. . . but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him
shall never thirst;
but the water that I shall give him
shall be in him a well of water
springing up into
everlasting life.  (John 4:14)
Ken Voltaire Nov 2018
Dark have been the days of late.
Feasting upon the rotting flesh of suns past,
None shall be delivered.
Grown too tall,
Hungered far in excess of what any stomach could carry,
Carried farther than any man dareth venture.
A ceaseless machine,
Cries out in smoke,
The ghastly thing spews,
Waste, lies, misery,
Upon those unknowing folk who drinketh from deceiving waters.
Strong trees stand no longer,
Delicate flowers of darkened shades,
Pilfer the landscape.
Intoxicating petals, formerly fair,
Trigger a grand collapse of the self.
Birds flutter hastily,
Stars spin before wide eyes,
A veil unending shields against the truth.
Many fear I hath become a madman.
The last star fades behind the peak,
The valley grows dark,
‘Tis the fate of I to fall into oblivion.
Methinks that sheep are blind, yet loyal,
Holding course without falter,
Keeping pace with the masses.
I apologize, dear listener,
For I fall into old cliches.
The stone that breaketh herds,
With force unmoving yet natural,
I stand before thee as a lone stranger,
Plowing against trivial time.
Betrayed by my own kin,
Great hammers are forced upon delicate fingers,
Hand over hand climbing ever onward,
With mangled digits.
My palms very nearly caress the precipice,
Idle hope keeps legs steady,
Mind weary,
Soul ever searching.
Stu Harley Apr 2021
...and who
drinketh from
this
poisoned well
only
the
good people
from
the
town of Nottingham
Richard Reid Apr 2018
I’m not familiar with these words,
Paints a red image of bloodied lust,
A beating of drums,
A river coarse that tunnels with ecstasy,
Glittering with fairy like dust in the dungeon,
A potion of serenity,
Created from the unlimited fountain,
Shaken with a professor’s touch,
Pitted on electrical buds,
Sending the current to mainframe,
Such a combustion,
Oh I drinketh too much.
Muluuta Mugagga Jul 2019
Concentrated love
surges far beyond
quenching body desire
permeates all done
of two consumed in it!

drinketh bitter
and ugly moments as one
less a grumble
happily eateth the pleasant

its seeds sprout best
in a heart accepting
fertile and bad soils.
Passion.
Yenson Dec 2021
And thou all shalt interpret
as it assuage thee in thine grotto of malice
and drinketh to thine fill
from the disenchanted poisonous chalice
for in recreant disgrace
wherein hangs duplicitous tongues like trellis
therein wanton haze
restless guilt garrottes and nips as tight bodice
tis the strident words
stillbirth woes of maddened wenches laying with lice
in grieved consort
with less men and half serfs from hamlets giddy with lies
miseries doth begs company
and the perpetual winter of drone minds crazes drones hives
And thou all shalt interpret

— The End —