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"eon" poems
And so, I awoke Where no sorrows are awakened. Distant galaxies sang, pranced, and danced in the glee of the night Eon long, lost constellations realigned and with joyous relief Whispered beneath the chill of the autumn air, “Oh, sweet child o’ mine, He has moved your soul to happiness. He has given life a new understanding, Love a new meaning.” Undoubtedly, that was true; For thine words are so sweet, So kind, And so pure. And though the future is uncertain, To awaken to your bliss… I cannot imagine more heavenly than that And in those moments of realization My heart, I promised to you.
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Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 11:45 PM UTC
Silver lining
"Perhaps, we are the people who met each other at a time warp, that's why we are still existing in this millennium." It's like my heartbeat has been cursed by twenty lifetimes; I would trade all my days, even if it turns from epoch to eon, I will always come back to you.
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Jul 11, 2022
Jul 11, 2022 at 11:45 AM UTC
Twenty lifetimes
My dear For eon's   I searched for closure , Closure on  what blended us together , Closure on what melded us forever, Closure on what made us care for each other up until this very moment, But dear after so much time I had to realize the very truth, Our closure , it was never out in the world keeping us far from each other. It was here right here infront of us the whole time. It lied in us being closer in this moment than the last, drawing each other's breath Till the air will no longer be a concern, Till our hearts consume each other's soul, Till I become yours and you ,while you become mine and me that's exactly where our Closure lies.
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May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 11:35 AM UTC
Dominium of Closure
Blue-grayish waves lap summer's sun-drenched beaches, eternal, soothing rhythm, an enduring melody, into the soul it reaches. Neighboring celestial bodies, conductors of the tides, creating eon's symphony, embracing, pacifying music: a choral harmony. Placid, glistening lake with fall moon's luminescent splendor, silvery, reflective mirror, still and serene, lying quietly in slumber. Bright, streaming rays, upon the surface, become as two entwined eternally, brilliantly flowing: a beacon of tranquility. White, pristine snow upon the meadow on a winter's early morning, softly sown, caressing Mother Earth, pure and alluring. Sol's rays shimmering on crystal flakes, a mosaic luminosity, sparkling diamond facets: a blanket of serenity. Dew-covered fields patched with spring's wild flowers, dazzling array, vibrant and alive, displaying rainbow's colors. A zephyr stirs bouquets of aromatic splendor, emerging reality, a living portrait masterpiece--a canvas of vitality. Nature, an ageless composer, conceiving kaleidoscope showcases, perennial seasons casting actors on scores of different stages. Wise is it, from time to time, to pause in awe and humble reverence, and view a master artist's majestic, grand performance.
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Mar 14, 2010
Mar 14, 2010 at 5:32 PM UTC
Kaleidoscope
i. Elated, I'm afar from the aqua sphere beneath mine toe's, I've been taken up by flight, an angel in the night; A woman, a queen, a mystical paranormal beam, God heard mine weeping, and with her he sent, She dried mine Tear's clean. ii. I sniveled for eon's, with none hopeful lover's future Mine joint's were weak, from the lack of nutritional feature's; At mine lowest point, after imploring mine lord for help, He sent me mine other half, Earl Jane Nagley, an Asiatic path, Mine beloved, mine darling, mine seraphic helper. iii. I found wholeness, the other purpose to mine sustenance, She's not for sale, she's not a slave, she's a cherub; not some anecdotal tale. She's not one to taketh man's bribery, she's not a peasant sold and payed for rent: tis she's heavensent- the answer to mine prayer's, she's delicate, she's an empress doth thou seeith, I was birthed for her, as she for me, both made for another, to cherish each other, on cloud nine we shalt be seen. ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poets poetry ©Earl Jane Nagley dedication-Filipino rose
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Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 2:35 PM UTC
siyam na ulap ( Cloud nine) filipino tongue
(history) Quell the bard was silken-clad and ever young. her flute connected earth and sky, tamed lightning in the higher notes.. her ancient horse would winnie to her song of endless breath she blew her story even into stone. having borne the stigmas of a ***** her martial prowess struck, trampled disrespect to cacophonic dust while over hills and vales he carried her-- a love-sick equine heart at peace at last upon the road between her thighs, commanded loyalty of beasts and men. none claimed her for their own, though some risked instant death to try ..stirge beaks tap on bones and rock to seek corrupted blood of elven kings, who having reigned and fallen to a royal troglodyte of dragon times, paint each eon with ambivalence... i conjure what my heritage beholds --reclusive double-tongue to hoard all words, reinvent religions for a lark what legend am i privy to the making of that hasn't had its underwires stripped, hung about a square in lewd display of Fact to purge a sense of mystery awry? i am alone within my fantasy. its symbols still mythologize my i. i will not bare it here, or anywhere-- concealment is its freedom, and its boon-- in which a frame of tenuous material appears where antidote addictions cycle musically, the timeline's summoning a game of recompense, compensating wanderlust won by whim and licorice for thought; it finds familiarity untamed-- adolescent anchorage aweigh-- adventures into wildernesses lost .
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Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 1:56 PM UTC
window *** and wandering. pane 3
Antsy aardvarks all accept ants accordingly as an addiction Bamboo bayonets bought by barbaric, beastly barons bite beatniks Cloistered cobblers can color candy-cane conches concealing crooners Daffodils doodle daydreams down, debauchery demons deafening Every eon each electric elephant eats eleven elk eggs For fun fantasies file films filosophic'ly filling filaments Go get greens Get grass grayer gal goonie ghoul Hello high hammock how hooligans heave haddocks heathenly hecklers Igloos ixist in icy islands interning internationally Jello jam jizzy Jacks jostling jewels juney jump jump joop jail
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Dec 27, 2009
Dec 27, 2009 at 9:11 PM UTC
Alphabetic Haiku Fun
I am on a street I have to choose a path to take I do not know if the roads will ever meet This is a decision I do not think I can make I am trying to make a choice What do I do , I don’t know From behind me I hear a voice Telling me where to go Now all I hear is noise People shouting at me Louder and louder “This is what you should be” Pushing me farther and farther “Stop,” I yell “let me choose” But my efforts were in vain For I had already been pushed, To the path that I must take The path is steep I am confident about the start So to go forward, I take a leap Only to find I want to depart The next few steps were a struggle For I did not read the map All I heard was my confidence rumble But I never left the path I found some help along the way They made my travels fun But they did not stay to my dismay I feel like this journey will never be done I see it, it’s finally concluded The road has ended I no longer feel secluded But I felt once again, that I was to be muted For I had another road to take I waited for the voices But all I heard and saw was the morning wake Now, it seemed I will make my own choices This is now my choice to make I feel bereft For others always made the decision I had to take I went left The journey felt like it had been going on for an eon I learned to enjoy the journey, not knowing where I was headed Just kept going on and on And to my luck the road never ended
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Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 10:09 AM UTC
The Endless Road
Of Ancient Mushrooms you'll find Growing in the wilds of every eon And if you Find yourself lost in them Amongst Faeries, Lizards, Elves, and Snakes And the Forest Glows a Phosphorescent Green Catch your Breath amid the Giggles let free And hear the Elven Harps among the trees Under giddy Spells of Mirth and Laughter Soft thrum of Faerie Wings and Elven Chatter The rising Sun Disolves the Mists of Mirth And all the Magic drifts off from the Earth
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May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 7:57 PM UTC
Lost Among the Mushrooms
I matched the look in his steel colored eyes with my own gaze of determination The angel Uriel descended in but a thousand broken moments woven together with the distinction of bliss And he bade unto me in my slipping consciousness... I could not tear my eyes way even for an eon, the sight to my eyes was a breathe to my lungs - as is a beat is to my heart, to be everything at once,in turn to the nothing I was but a lifetime ago Could you kiss my soul? In the way music breaks my heart Could you sing a song at the footsteps of the eternal himself His ways*, higher I think I take too much, you say I take too little, still you give as generously as you have before What is this That I would bare My soul to you With solemness, your eyes Find me in the dark Still you see me as I am But a child A fragile candle wish Blown among the known And wretches of night To weep with the mindless How can I return unchanged To that which bore me It leaves me in anguish That which knew me It let's me go To those who see, but know too little Reach with tendrils of hope and fire Further still you lead me Through loneliness I am not alone
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Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 6:18 PM UTC
Endless
My leaves have begun to turn from the green of photosynthesis to that pumpkin Autumn orange descending below October skies landing on the lush lawn of November. Flat grey skies of overcast. Of rain filled clouds - stretching- as far as the horizon line bursting at their rolling seems to see this season’s first thunderstorm. Once I am bare, naked, & exposed the snow will come in blankets covering all signs of my yearly decay the malignancy of once being a sapling who sprouted an eon of Springs ago. My arms extended in every direction inching and reaching for a sun that has been masked and dimmed in acceptance of this cycle of life this years seasonal downtime. The first rays of a new Spring stimulate my entire being sprouting new buds to leaf in quantity giving momentary hope from knowing that I am only living for the Fall.
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Nov 10, 2010
Nov 10, 2010 at 9:42 PM UTC
-Stretching-
Awakening to the infinite of every possibilities end All the stories that ever could be told Are accessed once again Detached from the material Suddenly the imagination roars Aequo animo, stillness in the ken Every lifetime in the nowevermore accounted Visually, without eyes, the plots are traced Like wind-borne dandelions in the cosmic meadow Innumerable beauty, intricate as lace Understanding George Lucas And the Galaxy Far Far Away Imagination plays it out A second’s eon burning mind forged in sacred space Traveler of the spirit Unraveling the theory of strings The Book of Life within us all doppia elica Split the Stream Opening up all channels Realities manifesting within the folds Of Time’s hidden fore-edge paintings Smiling at the Bold Honoring the awareness of the peaceful seeker Before deeper slumber takes hold One toe before the dream door There are no walls There is no floor
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Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 4:27 PM UTC
Infinity
A stone monolith sits in the middle of a frozen field. It has seen many a eon, many civilizations fall and rise, many many years in it's cold position. Its face once that of a mighty god or a worshiped king, is all that remains. It's chiseled grimace forever juxtaposed on its stony countenance. Throughout its still existence, this grimace never disappears. All times will this grimace will endure. The snow falls down over its impenetrable skull. It bears no notice, only surreal patience, as it slowly awaits oblivion. Oblivion! All its thoughtless mind are set on it, forever counting the days it does not know with numbers it does not know. There is no comfort here. All is frozen, all is cold. It had never chosen to lay here, yet lay here it must. Eternally till it is dust, it is counting with numbers it does not know the days it does not know. It reminiscences on past events it witnessed, but does not recall. The wars, the disasters and the plagues.... It has bared through all with the same grimace as the creatures subjected to the horrors kneeled before it in reverence, offering it sacrifices and soul. It towered above these pitiful creatures, it watched with eyes that do not see as they trembled in its wake, following orders it did not speak. Ignoring prayers it did not hear. So obediently did these creatures obey what it did not say! Dutifully did they destroy their own and all around them. Faithfully did they create this ****** field of barren nothingness, thee circumspect watchers of the monolith's will. An empty scourge to what once was. Beautiful landscapes of yesteryear now turned from sprawling green to turn into frozen ash, forever recounting the final moments of misery on this lifeless realm, a misery that surrounded the monolith in its final days. Consistently reflecting off of its stone grimace before it all faded away with the last life. As the eternal years past and the amaranthine smog lies overhead, the monolith sits in the middle of a frozen field. There is no comfort here. The snow has turned to thermonuclear ash years ago. All is frozen, all is cold. It had never chosen to lay here, yet lay here it must. Quietly it does. Frozen in place, in a frozen field where nothing grows. The strong face of monolith is all that remains. The face surveys the empty landscape before it forevermore.
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Jan 22, 2012
Jan 22, 2012 at 1:20 AM UTC
Laments of a Stone Monolith
A stone monolith sits in the middle of a frozen field. It has seen many a eon, many civilizations fall and rise, many many years in it's cold position. Its face once that of a mighty god or a worshiped king, is all that remains. It's chiseled grimace forever juxtaposed on its stony countenance. Throughout its still existence, this grimace never disappears. All times will this grimace will endure. The snow falls down over its impenetrable skull. It bears no notice, only surreal patience, as it slowly awaits oblivion. Oblivion! All its thoughtless mind are set on it, forever counting the days it does not know with numbers it does not know. There is no comfort here. All is frozen, all is cold. It had never chosen to lay here, yet lay here it must. Eternally till it is dust, it is counting with numbers it does not know the days it does not know. It reminiscences on past events it witnessed, but does not recall. The wars, the disasters and the plagues.... It has bared through all with the same grimace as the creatures subjected to the horrors kneeled before it in reverence, offering it sacrifices and soul. It towered above these pitiful creatures, it watched with eyes that do not see as they trembled in its wake, following orders it did not speak. Ignoring prayers it did not hear. So obediently did these creatures obey what it did not say! Dutifully did they destroy their own and all around them. Faithfully did they create this ****** field of barren nothingness, thee circumspect watchers of the monolith's will. An empty scourge to what once was. Beautiful landscapes of yesteryear now turned from sprawling green to turn into frozen ash, forever recounting the final moments of misery on this lifeless realm, a misery that surrounded the monolith in its final days. Consistently reflecting off of its stone grimace before it all faded away with the last life. As the eternal years past and the amaranthine smog lies overhead, the monolith sits in the middle of a frozen field. There is no comfort here. The snow has turned to thermonuclear ash years ago. All is frozen, all is cold. It had never chosen to lay here, yet lay here it must. Quietly it does. Frozen in place, in a frozen field where nothing grows. The strong face of monolith is all that remains. The face surveys the empty landscape before it forevermore.
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6
This time please don’t feel sad. I’ve tried to fade away. Stretch thin to reach me. Gone un-scratched for an eon. As a breath on a death bed. Can’t be savored for too long. It’d feel nice to know who I am. I’m pressed to find a way. Dressed in his slime and his slop. It’d feel good to know who I’m not. Bottle up and conceal. It’s all moved away this time. I can feel. No Fawkes whisper to reveal. It’s all been changed. But for me. I feel the same. I’m broken and poured. All vivid, but defamed. The color I had in my fingers. Is distant on a tether. I just coil it back in. Before I grow numb in taste.
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Feb 7, 2022
Feb 7, 2022 at 1:46 PM UTC
Far Away
Yellow beam of light circles My face Momentarily blinding me again And again and again One night like an eon As the tiny celestial bodies Above the clouds revolve around The black night sky My shadow scaled the spire To the crown of the beaming Watchtower gazing over a Restless sea To find me floating away With the tenacious waves.
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Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 3:46 PM UTC
Lighthouse
the gentle touch of the moon's light lifted her encumbered soul of its plight her inner harmony bound in unrelenting tears she'd wept for an eon the solace of the moon steeped her in its healing grace to bring unto her a serene embrace
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Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 9:58 AM UTC
Serene Embrace
As evolution jumped from eon to eon, the foundational hunger to remain surpassed all bounds this great celestial has ever witnessed in its cosmic disturbance. How must Mars and Jupiter, these stars in the sky view the deep blue that flooded the desolate, a clump of collected debris basking in the ultraviolet, unable to resist the presence of life, ever-so unwanted and needless to exist? For our neighbors in the sky, glancing our way in their soulless façade, they gossip to their peers about the news over here, the autumnal shift from emerald to bronze, willows who wept in the heat of summer days, dandelions dotting the ridges of a rolling hillside, at times dipping their toes in the whispering waters of a backyard creek caressing the moss atop smooth and shimmering stones. From nothing you surged as entropy evermore, and from everything you share your entities, the very body you call your own, the breath you maintain in this cyclical palindrome; as mere extensions of the singularity’s core, you find yourself in this position of awe, gazing at the consequences never meant to be seen. How fortunate we are to find ourselves here in a sea of tumultuous chaos, conscious and ever-so present in the discovery of knowledge. To look to the past through a tubular lens and remain unknowing of time’s present state, the physical probabilities of potentials unforeseen bending the rays of time to juxtapose new and old; reality remains a pervasive illusion evading the grasps of human cognition. Our consciousness supersedes the premise of us all, but our curiosity quivers in the breath of the meaningless; how could something so rare and inconceivable surmount to nothing more than the imminent emergence of an empty abyss? We must never misjudge the reign of the cosmos, lose all hope that nothing awaits -- this I will not believe.   From nothing I surged as entropy evermore, and from everything I share my entities, the very body I call my own, the breath I maintain in this cyclical palindrome; as mere extensions of the singularity’s core, I find myself in this position of awe, gazing at the consequences never meant to be seen.
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Mar 6, 2024
Mar 6, 2024 at 3:22 AM UTC
A rumination on the premise of us all.
As evolution jumped from eon to eon, the foundational hunger to remain surpassed all bounds this great celestial has ever witnessed in its cosmic disturbance. How must Mars and Jupiter, these stars in the sky view the deep blue that flooded the desolate, a clump of collected debris basking in the ultraviolet, unable to resist the presence of life, ever-so unwanted and needless to exist? For our neighbors in the sky, glancing our way in their soulless façade, they gossip to their peers about the news over here, the autumnal shift from emerald to bronze, willows who wept in the heat of summer days, dandelions dotting the ridges of a rolling hillside, at times dipping their toes in the whispering waters of a backyard creek caressing the moss atop smooth and shimmering stones. From nothing you surged as entropy evermore, and from everything you share your entities, the very body you call your own, the breath you maintain in this cyclical palindrome; as mere extensions of the singularity’s core, you find yourself in this position of awe, gazing at the consequences never meant to be seen. How fortunate we are to find ourselves here in a sea of tumultuous chaos, conscious and ever-so present in the discovery of knowledge. To look to the past through a tubular lens and remain unknowing of time’s present state, the physical probabilities of potentials unforeseen bending the rays of time to juxtapose new and old; reality remains a pervasive illusion evading the grasps of human cognition. Our consciousness supersedes the premise of us all, but our curiosity quivers in the breath of the meaningless; how could something so rare and inconceivable surmount to nothing more than the imminent emergence of an empty abyss? We must never misjudge the reign of the cosmos, lose all hope that nothing awaits -- this I will not believe.   From nothing I surged as entropy evermore, and from everything I share my entities, the very body I call my own, the breath I maintain in this cyclical palindrome; as mere extensions of the singularity’s core, I find myself in this position of awe, gazing at the consequences never meant to be seen.
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48
Dark sea wine, send me to Brazil Caracas, Venezuela, the Coasts of Gold, strung out on oblivion, drowning in the sun, each exhale an eon, collapsing upon itself Hail Mary, sweet ****** mother, salty ginger, stellar space,   answer a beggar's prayer, somewhere let horses run wild, and may a lion lie with a lamb's tail Soaked in jazzy flow, the white Apogaean tides crash like a silver blade against bronze, romance, the death of heroes, Achille's spear, penetrating this moment, ripping it bare, slicing young flesh, open wounds bleeding blessed red life to the world, an amber glaze Thrones pin peace to the wall, a trophy pelt for all to see with cool blazing eyes, yet all look away while I two step waltz like a jigging liquid light wave, lithe feet raining down moves like a dog in the woods, chasing deer through smokey paths hidden from human stained eyes by thick brush Stiff whiskey midnight, gibbous moon hangs mellow yellow like half a wheel of cheese, canonized in secret watching, the pretty girl problems thrown around like trash blown in the park lovely day, where does this path lead? the open road forever howls life, death, birth, infinity
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Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
Dark Sea Wine
I am George the fisherman. I have no use of my left foot. The sky is dark; the air is cool, and my good right shin hurts from overuse. I sleep in a hammock: stretched between memories. For I find myself hanging from the one that is a second ago and the one that is an eon ago and they appear to be the same. I say I sleep, but really I just watch the night roll over me as one point and the other converge towards overlapping, leaving me simply caught in a net.
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Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 12:55 PM UTC
Fishmonger
*When need to be with myself sets in a lonely mood mind seeks a space to delve sink in solitude I slip to that unused room where a window to the north paints a sky of white lily bloom for dreams to merrily birth! I fly above the town house tops up the tallest palm reach the clouds to touch raindrops drown in deep calm whiles pass mind travels eon far beyond the earth till lands back to anchor on the window to the north!*
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Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC
The window to the north
Null is the void, as the void is the lull, lull is the stoic, as the stoic is the soul. Soul of an eon, as an eon of not, not in the ions, as the ions are lost. Lost is the sphere, as the sphere is sedition, sedition is fear, as fear is the mission. Mission of silence, as silence is the crowd, the crowd is the silent, and the silent are loud.
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Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 4:59 AM UTC
Helio
As the sun comes up over the horizon A new beginning is offered to all mankind The same beginning that has been offered for eon's How you chose to use the day is like a vision Being created one long sequence in moments of that time Each step taken is part of the one created caption One wrong step leads you down a path to collision Colliding with all that is in the world unkind That can be like going to hell's jail, just a dungeon Of the smoke being breathed by the owner the dragon Or you can choose to walk the path in a straight line Remembering everyone falls, but is not done Because the path keeps going like it is being chosen And guiding like this has been given and assigned Picking up, shaking off, and healing you often Just remember that you are not the only one No matter the path walked because you have chosen And there is room for change, the path is not defined So consider the things that define your action And live as if this beginning is your last one
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Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 4:38 PM UTC
New Beginnings