"earthed" poems
Peering down
an empty bottle
we've begun
a kaleidoscope
full of broken
memories and
twist of tongues
where nights
flash, conducting
awareness to all
and everything,
a glare of mirrors
basked above us
in splendid colour
with my hands
firmly earthed
into yours.
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 7:27 PM UTC
And some time make the time to drive out west
Into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,
In September or October, when the wind
And the light are working off each other
So that the ocean on one side is wild
With foam and glitter, and inland among stones
The surface of a slate-grey lake is lit
By the earthed lightening of flock of swans,
Their feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,
Their fully-grown headstrong-looking heads
Tucked or cresting or busy underwater.
Useless to think you'll park or capture it
More thoroughly. You are neither here nor there,
A hurry through which known and strange things pass
As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways
And catch the heart off guard and blow it open
4.3k
Awakening upon a smooth textural cotton
Soaking energy within without knowing what had happened so often
As if I've woken from a coffin
Or if I've birthed from the planets
Or if I was earthed from the heavens
None the less, I am here
Between the astral plane?
Steaming from in to sane?
Perhaps both
Perhaps only a mere perception do I hope
I have been awoke
A purpose or so
Reaching a new surface I have known
Condensed energy through palm
So energized, though remarkably calm
Moving once
Steady, so beautiful
Psalms
Awakening eye, I have begun
Gazing, focusing towards condensed matter I have made and strung
Cotton morphed to ground
A land has been found
No past, nor future, a mere stitch of multiverse this is
Reflection of the third eye
Two beings I see between the land and sky
A man and plant
A peace
A piece
A kind
Moving towards a journey through strength, but although hate
They can't see
Though I
As I am the man and the plant
One, indeed
Just as Yin and Yang
A bane is a glory
A glory is a bane
A unique spectrum, I live
I am the different multiverse
All are different universes into multiverse
Perhaps, I am the multiverse as I am numerous unto one
The man
The plant
One soul
Two shells
As both collide, meets a view of Heaven, Reincarnation, and Hell
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 10:42 PM UTC
I miss hearing the owl's call
I imagine walking to the field nearby
To wait and listen
To the winter's earthed silence
And the call that heralds the night
To feel the silent wings slice the air
And to feel the birds freedom
Calling back feathered arrows on the
Starry breeze
The sweet smell of a winters night
Fills me and I await her call.
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 8:11 AM UTC
The light hits your hand
And my mouth hits the floor
It's the way you touch my neck
And your eyes that tell me "more"
This is divine
sublime
it's a crime
I'd suppose
To feel so earthed
And so high-
Slipping down the slope
of the bridge of your nose
Those naked
sacred
puppy dog eyes
Strawberry rhubarb pies
and warm wool
I don't know how you do it
if only I knew it
I feel like you know me so well
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 6:16 PM UTC
This air is so thick, it’s so stale and so raw
The humidity makes everything stick
And no matter how many times I try
I can't seem to let you go
Care free times have turned into dysfunctional moments
When did good memories fill me with happiness?
An epiphany blooms in the abyss of my mind:
Our lives cross paths frequently
But you will never be mine
My Romeo, I am no longer your Juliet
That ship has sailed, and my heart and life with it
And now every meeting and every word uttered between us
Is intolerable
For now I see you are a disease
A growing colossus of dread, earthed deep in my chest
Suckling and breeding in my heart
You desperately cling on to the loose fibers of my soul
And while things fall apart I quickly try to stitch it back together
Stop hurting me
Help me get over you
Because every speck of hope you plant in me makes it harder
To turn and stay away
I’m begging you to leave.
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 12:37 PM UTC
It is hard
to describe
how the rush of
the drench
of a furious
storm makes
my downpour
clench
wet desert wind
that sparks me
alive
sending currents
from the whorls of
my scalp
down through the
rings of my spine
It trips over
dermis
like kimono silk
thick as the cream
of lapped-up
milk
alighting my
senses in
rose quartz tints
igniting cells
to my surface
with earthed-up flint
The strike of rocks
echoes ancient
sounds
reverberating heat
throughout my scared
mound
And I let the rain
pour directly in
to my soul's
humble vessel,
cleansing me,
rinsed
from relentless
spirit-wrestle
free of stains
from self-doubt,
self-hate
to align my vision
with choice-infused fate
and I am the storm
that swirls through
the trees
I am the dream
whipped up thick
in the breeze
ready for surrender
as I pull the reigns
ready for the tender
conflagration
of the
sacred
blaze
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 4:39 PM UTC
Who art thou but True
Sustenance n Ethos Infinitus
Who’d be less than a Fiery Sun
Radiance thou art One
Of Light of Love
Love Radiant in the Night
Of Great Blackness Her Love nor wanes
Or have need of waxing
For I long there be colors that my Mind shall Shine
No no why doubt because She washes imaginings
With every depth of Rushing Springs of Loving Colors
And every Breath Will for Another
For I was wayward
Penances of Hope a salvation upon the Mind
When Love seemed the un-Godly distance
Un-Earthed entombed
For Word, for Gesture Her Great Heartness
Will not know other
The Beingness of Love of Heart
In thy Here Now Home
Of Eternal Mother
Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 9:32 PM UTC
while building static warmth
unbiased night has nurtured strain
now! ;
breaks akimbo in filling veins
silver branches
lipping open flare across the sky
stimulated charge raised
through our earthed souls
greeting heavens kindle above
Jun 28, 2022
Jun 28, 2022 at 6:14 PM UTC
i.
Iwis, in the overt eye's,
Her, mine Jane; ii.
I'll lionize. Erelong, the psalmody
Of courting gesture;
A consort's
diadem,
Meet
for
Treasures.
iii.
Tambourines shaketh
Whilst sistrum's
Jangle; horn's
And pipes
In the melody
Tangle.
iv.
Sitar and harp peal,
Shofar's explode
The comet's; un-
earthed by seven
seal's, reeling in
Renewal and
birth's of one
mindset.
v.
Free will is chosen,
though by Yahweh
abideth we; unclad
to the human fad,
In love- O' blessed
To be.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( pookie dedication)
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 11:22 PM UTC
Never mind the obscure objectives and finite perspectives for I need but secure my collective conscious so that I may grasp a reality that remains lost in earth trodden shoes worn down by relentless, unforgiving journeys.
In your search for meaning, you have found them hiding from curious eyes waiting for those that matter. I ask that you appreciate the tears, the dirt stains and matted fabric for they have survived damnation in their trek to Hell and back.
You discovered and earthed them in their solidarity and quiet suffering, picked them up and polished what would could.
You returned them to me with a sparkle in your eyes, hoping for the best; that they will fit and continue to collect memories. That they might survive the journey to atonement and witness exaltation one final time.
Your smile widens, your nose wrinkles and cheeks flush red.
You feel within you a sense of consummation in that a good deed was done.
I say unto you “I’m sorry dear but they no longer fit nor am I able to journey. Age and neglect weigh heavy on their seams and my bones creak with my every step. ”, you laugh, creases forming at the corners of your deep brown eyes.
“Then tell me about your journeys”. I have never heard words so sweet in a voice so delicate and loving. You sit down eyes wide and virtuous ears perked and hands out stretched, “For I will walk your path in my own shoes and I will collect memories in my hands so that one day I may put them in my own heart and have them with me always. If ever you need them, then I will be with you”.
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
The big bang was your conception.
The expansion of nutritive gases and stars
filled the womb of your pregnant mother.
As barely an earthed fetus, you seemed an animal.
As a newborn, you grew primitively, slowly rose.
Enlightenment when you came of age
to discover yourself human.
Now, in your Twenty-First, the century
of drugged science, you live like a half-god
in ever-questioning evolved reversion,
in a contradictory asylum of paralyzing speed,
rising steep to its ringed peak funneling fumes
that revive the smell of your instincts, primal and fiery.
Then, in one final breath, in the outpour
on volcano’s point, melting and bursting
in radial gasps once again, will come your death
in a matter of ours, the eschaton, a new bang
desired and conceived anew, so that in rebirth
will be your survival, in rebirth our continuity.
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 7:35 PM UTC
fresh threshed of habit
pragmatic in a gasp
cast black magic
trashed
to the last
time waking up
far flung
thrown
but there is no away
the grain
planted to be these moments
stays Earthed
even after greening
in teeming
hill after hill of
step measured progression
these green beings
long before we set out
had daily met the sun
with praise
let us do the same
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 3:57 PM UTC
I like
to lie
In a park
At dark
In spring.
When the
Wind dies,
And everything
Is just so.
Just clear
as glass
and earthed
On grass
Below
I gaze
at stars
At last
While
crickets
Sing.
Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 7:59 PM UTC
I miss seeing you smile.
To me it seemed that you laughed and kissed me for everything, but it was probably a mistaken impression, a
result of shock!
wonder!
Could you imagine my surprise,
how it could be unexpected?
How often is the soul’s desire met?
I can recall not ever, ne’er, near naught
save in amniotic baptism, had every
object subject—every ancient tissue
attended by an enzyme—every ray of
sun snuck between the blouse’s buttons,
around my mother’s ******* and
divined upon me was let there been.
I cut myself following consciousness
with my longest fingernail, did laugh
too convulsed, tickled by light did induce my birth;
I cried (they’ll confirm this), I
wept to rob my mother herself, so it seemed,
inhaled the endless time and limitless space.
You can imagine my surprise then
with your covered mouth at my joke.
To me it seemed as if I had body again, hadn’t had a hand to grasp, hadn’t a hand with to grasp; then,
like had putty-gilded muscles earthed
unearthed, did.
Have you ever seen creation?—
well, yes, of course, it did not except you.
As close to ex nihilo as your patience can manage
you would have seen the time and space
repel each other in a nail’s length
of chaos, Fiat Vita, about which there’s little to be said.
My patience breaks in breath, Fiat Lux: when
time and space colors the light and refracts
the matrix and gives fire to my soul for a body.
Rilke writes, “Every Angel is terror,” which we
love, “because it calmly disdains to destroy us.”
I know! I know! I bite my nails penitent still.
And my patience does extend yet further, still within;
before my birth following it:
Look! I can open you this door,
give you that,
carry you thus far,
lead you here,
can reach your smiling mouth
with a terrorized will to kiss withal!
I can endure as the “arrow endures the bow”;
as all matter collapses upon itself in effort to grasp itself,
so it does to grasp all itself in one grand handful;
as atrophy takes me from you as quickly as I give you it,
I am surprised to find that I have retained all of you;
not expecting that you might have hid me, too, where
I would overlook, where only you could go, where
the light silhouettes, for me can just stop breathing.
I can see without patience—as much as light allows
and just as long.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 8:57 AM UTC
Words multiplying inside my brain,buzzing like bees making honey again
I relax into a hot wax bath, earthed and birthing joined up writing,
multiplying's so exciting.
In barren times I spin no rhymes,not one bee and no honey for me but now,kapow it's multiplying and though I'm trying
I struggle to stop the words from sliding,rocketing out and colliding,even then this collision's providing me
with more honey,
and more bees buzzin' in my head.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 6:42 AM UTC
A mighty move, a thousand lives, all packed up and strapped down,
An’ travelin’ through the dead of night, a fleet that shakes the ground.
A cast aside community, lured to a dotted line,
Inspired by immunity, but shackled to a shine.
The refugees - trinkets in tow - are told to turn around,
They kneel and plead, nowhere to go, some fat man owns their ground.
Disease an’ death with drought or mud, an’ shelters made of sand,
Look to the west - and so they should – holdin’ out their empty hands.
An endless plight, an exodus, pays homage to its graves,
Defend an’ fight an’ test their fists - for promises of rain.
A tired child in endless sleep, his stomach storing air,
Is almost wild, is almost free - was almost never there.
A town, a land, a continent - a half a world the same,
Beyond run-down an’ decadent. Beyond the care of blame.
A person, people, faith an’ race – best part of this mankind,
We herd them, keep them out of place - and far from in our minds
Their sin was birth, so Hell is earthed an’ they can call it home,
Unavoidable collateral. Fighting to lick a bone.
Politics. Apocalypse - It’s all the same to them,
With all their kids as thick as twigs, an’ vines that look like men.
Turn off T.V’s. Turn bliss angry - they’ve put you off your meal,
So blank them out - why stand an’ shout? One mind can’t change their deal.
How wrong you are, to think as far. Each penny goes somewhere,
All care’ll count, all aid amounts – high time we learned to share.
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 4:15 AM UTC
A-ware which my Profession affects, no doubt
Or Risk those Demoralised Bankers percieve
Perhaps a Warning which your Crown enspout
Dissolve my Tears since that Gun-Man's reprieve
Are all these your Receipts? Claims to your Stub
That which hampers my Earthed Reputation
My Mind - enwracked - make Alien to your Hub
All enjoy but your Ghost Computation
I can find no Faults; Save which I create
Then prove foulest Links as mortally mine
To leave you Pure; And pursue your Heart's Mate
Then kiss her Program for Sentiments fine.
Be as it may, such Sentiment can hurt
Yet still fine, for this Medicine convert.
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 1:55 AM UTC
i’ve been wondering lately
about the cynical views i hold dear
i identify with them greatly
but i’m not sure if they’re sincere
i don’t want to be sixty
and have not appreciated life while i have it
i never even wanted to live till sixty
but life’s all i have isn’t it
the idea of God always merely humoured me
and while an afterlife still eludes me
does nihilism’s peace really compete
with a serenity birthed purely from belief?
i’m non-committal for a family
but a child to guide and be close with
is a ***** kind of alchemy
that maybe would make me a goldsmith
i’m not one for a spouse
but i'd love someone to know me
maybe i could settle for a real house
enough to quench the wanderlust in me
society is cruel
too, life’s fatal rules
but i'd sooner be cast aside and sixty
than six feet deep at twenty
the selfishness of humanity always disgusted me
and while the blindness still eludes me
does humanity’s grief really compete
with a beauty Earthed like a stampede?
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 6:49 PM UTC
Bashing
Crashing
Smashing
Clotted-cream tongues
Lashing
Cathedral hulls
October’s chop
Out to get
Lifejacketless him
Cityboy him
Neither’d gone beyond
His breezy smiled
Awrigh’ my lover
Up to their eyeballs they’d got now
No chance now to break
The awkward ice
Outside the breakwater
Never ought’er
Hunker down
Turkeyland yelled
Ride the swell
Cradle orphaned beef
And if you don’t
Incubate the rough
Earthed nests of wine-drowned potato
And proper job swede
And if you don’t
You won’t make it
*
Oggies
Never take’em to sea
St Anthony’d decreed
But Master Herd, he hadn’t heard
And he’s too emmet to question.
Jun 9, 2021
Jun 9, 2021 at 5:33 PM UTC
I reach into myself
Find the tiny strong voice
Who knows who I am
Present in the moment
Assured in all my actions
Aware of all my value
An un-earthed superpower
I'll grow to become her
The strong woman inside me
Mar 30, 2022
Mar 30, 2022 at 9:53 PM UTC
for Sia and Gia
~
actionable,
seeking perfection,
yet this morning,
an unnecessary.
lying in bed, window gazing,
Barber's Adagio for Strings
fills the inner ear's atmosphere
in tandem, in cahoots
with
a new day's pastel palette,
whose new hues
hew away
half-remembered distasteful recollections
of rapid eye'd drowsed darker dreams.
bereft of cares,
'to do' lists
do not exist,
t'is only merest minorest inconvenience called
gravity,
preventing,
my physic shell from
being jet seat ejected
to ascend heavenly sky'd
even love's labor lost,
a pained yet pleasurable strife,
the best of the best
of a worn and torn cycled life,
all shed, all put to one side
like incidental music.
seeing light earthed birthed,
perfection granted to the early risers,
Massenet's Meditation turn violins
from soothing turns to sudden orchestral tumult,
causing a misstep of doubtful questioning,
a momentarily soul stumbling
crashing cymbalic disintermediation
Copland's Appalachian Spring replaces,
retracting, sealng wax away
all concerning distractions
of my concerting pastoral.
and tho a season too late,
for this is my time,
summer time,
the time of my music,
my seasoned, annualized
concerto with the Earth,
his music is most
well come
these,
the Summer Man's
days of awe,
days of tranquility,
days of simplest tones,
no atonal atonement requests necessary,
for mellifluous harmonious in everything,
perfection is given, not taken,
well received
in calming serenity,
Bernstein's West Side Story then presents,
so out of place
to where I current am,
a natural sensational day beginning
on the very near-to-the-end
of a long isand
(tho the West Side, en veritas, was
my teeming small town community, my noisy, honking
rooting birthplace story)
Lenny composes a dance of reminder that
*somewhere,
there is a remainder,
somewhere,
there is a place for us,
even me.*
and it is
here, now,
in the uncontested sky
over my blue-green grass,
that leads to my Peconic shoreline,
where I hear a new world symphony
of cawing birds and silent bunnies,
dancing deer and zzzzing insects,
completing my
natural composition,
the playlist perfection of
me
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 6:29 PM UTC
the easiest art to abuse is poetry,
after your posed ****
**** **** cheeks
in self-e mode, the easiest
mode to grasp is to a
likened drowning man
grasping for a razor blade...
odd not enough sketches
of the cheeks... but about
how the everyday would play
out after the act...
i just like watching the smoke
of a cigarette breathed out
into cold air like watching rain
clouds disperse for a shot of light;
not that the missed fifth element
of the greeks was electricity
for the pentagonal man of sight sense
taste sense, touch sense, heard sense,
scent sense, and with the fifth element
the sense of thought: dual via either
rational or irrational choice...
so polarised by it that it touched
us like fire's scorch or water's bathed
wrinkled geese, or wind-blown hair,
or earthed body parts in ashes...
because if electricity was not the fifth
missing element, we'd not be taking
anti-insomnia sleeping pills:
we'd be unaffected...
prometheus got away clinging
to a giant hawk that ate his liver once...
but michael faraday got the electric chair
to keep his hairstyle in hedgehog mode
buzzing eureka after eureka.
electricity, or synthetic light
does not allow man to congregate like
man once did round a camp fire for a story...
electricity that synthetic light allows
us to congregate... but only as tourists...
not as storytellers.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 9:41 PM UTC
Unearthed,
Broken hearts by the millions
Unnerved,
By the sounds of so many tears
Understood,
Everyone has felt this way
Lost loves,
Dying in our minds for millions of years
*Earthed,
Secrets within revelations.
The numbers of stars, yet as
Concealed as them all; how
Something as bright as light can be
Hidden behind the undarkness of
Day.
All human tears are not the results
Of crying.
All human tears are the same one. One
Water.
Life. Pain. Laughter.
Pain. Life.
Earth cares as little as soil.*
And yet the Earth is filled with laughter
Tears
Pain and life.
It knowing not the difference is beyond the point
Caring,
That the light we can all bring
To shine shadows upon this unforgiving ground
Then the sound of the last tear drop
Shall bring the endless cycle to a stop.
*Spirals cycling endlessly
In optionable directions.
Dancing or
Duelling. Loving or
Lying. Living or dying
Trying, crying.
Waste not heart's blood on
Grounds. All it takes is
Enough breath to clear
The skies.
It's only life, mother.
Weep not for my death;
Laugh that I lived.
A thousand hates, yet the
One love I shall recall.
I name no flying
To fall.
When I smile, my tears
Quench my thirst.
Endless cycle.
We can all choose to
Spiral
Upwards.*
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC