"eyne" poems
i.
Certes, where wouldst I be, without the visitant who visited me, hallow and calefacient is mine sweet. Her camaca flaxen brown far east bisayan covering, like the wind upon her bones; Cling's on to wing's crystalline, hovering.
ii.
Many callisteias doth she hath, even in her most burdened of day's, light echoes the wall's of her laugh. Her nacre eyne, as a naos doth garnish the sign; spelling "ángelos mou".
iii.
I phlebotomized pond's of despair's tether's, I implored God for the mate of mine soul; even pictured this vasílissa in mine pounding blood's fetters. Thus one moment, in death's valley, undeservingly the Trinity whom always was and is; gifted me mine other-half, the woman from Asia's tribal secrets, the one with a aureole surrounding her chest.
iv.
Now, after generation's of awaiting, just to touch her luminescence I won't tire, nor debate the timing; for all
Cometh in good time, I just thanketh mine Yahweh.
For its his daughter he didst send, thus me didst he
Openeth mine eyen. O' blest divine, O' blest divine.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( àgapi mou) Dedication
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 7:06 PM UTC
Some only seest her flesh
And her bones;
I seest God's handprint
That brushstroked
Her soul.
Some only heed her outer
Reflection;
I seest a masterpiece
In paradisal direction.
Some only observe her comings
And going's;
Not perceiving
Her tears, beyond year's;
Hath been like white water's flowing.
Some only descry
Her Filipina eyne;
Whilst under her roof
She's lonesome, aloof;
Pain is her daily bread,
As is her heart's
Screaming proof.
Some only espy, the girl
They seek to know; not
Knowing nothing of who
She really is, an Angel from
God's throne.
Though this Queen doesn't seest
What I seest, she is blinded by
Worldly lies; demon's art her
Enemies, because she's God's
coruscating light.
If only she could take a step
Out of her body and her mind;
She'd be free, to perceive
The treasure she is
As the creator made
Her after his
Kind.
If only she could
Seest, the elegance
Inside her soul;
She would
Knowest
She was
Created to be
God's light, lamp;
God's perfect mold.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Sardua nagley ( agapi mou) dedicated
Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 8:31 PM UTC
(Dedicated to my mother, Juna Marie Nagley- happy mother's day momma!!!)
O' Màthair, Màthair, from whence I birthed.
Best friend, mine Angel, mine guide; Disguised
As a lady at birth; it's from thine womb from
Whence I arrived, this is a thanking thee, to
A flawless seraph, mine Màthair, mine Màthair-
To thee; whom do I compareth?
Anglamotharia, thou hath always met mine need's,
When mine knee was scraped, and when I got sick;
Thou wouldst alway's protecteth me. Eyne blue as
The sea's, hair blonde as the street's thou hath
stemmed from, Anglamotharia-Jehovah's chosen
One, mine host of host's, guardian from the ghost's
Who always tried to hurt thy own son.
Anglamotharia, from whence I am from-
Latha màthair math; angelic one.
(Second part is a mothers day dedication to my mother in law Evangeline sardua- Earl Jane sardua my Queens mother....)
Adlaw Malipayon inahan, dearest mother-in-law, the Apple to Jane's vision, hardworking, gentle-calm. I thankest thee for showing Jane the right way's; the way's of God, the way's of love, O' heaven knoweth thy name.
Adlaw Malipayon inahan, woman who knoweth none time, for thine family is thy priority; thou cookest and cleanest, thy labor hath heavied over time, mayest the Lord bless thee and keep thee, and the Lord make His face shine upon thee. And be gracious to thee. The Lord lift up His countenance upon thee,
And give thee peace. Mayest thine abode be a blessing from Mount malindang-west unto East. Mayest Yeshua guideth thy feet to where dangerous travels cometh and goeth. Mayest the word of God always from thy mouth appear and floweth. Mayest this mother's day, be a remembrance to thee, Evangeline; thy love hath not been forgotten, this is mine gift and thanking to thee.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©mothers day dedication to two special mother's ( Evangeline Sardua, janes mother, and dedication to my mother juna Marie Nagley, ) happy mother's day to both of you and may God shine his face upon you!!! With love Brandon!!
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC
Eftsoons, thee would fain depart and chasten thy chance
Meseems to be fond of thou beloved with fears:
Harken thy anacreontic jovial at once,
For whosoever conveys love shall drown on tears.
Thee may not ratify affections I bestowed;
Each morn may bring no reasons to behold the sun.
Yon enigmatic events has come and winnowed
Beseech, to cease the fires, afore thy love has gone.
Somehow, blossoms will wither, as rivers will dry
Mayhap, thy heart I own shall be shattered in twain,
Welkin rings, pearls cannot retrieve ev'ry goodby
Maimed and futile; whence, no one can withstand the pain.
If these velvet ropes would seize thine eyne twixt the thrill,
Utter prayers, for Heaven would burn me in hell.
Nov 2, 2011
Nov 2, 2011 at 5:12 AM UTC
FROM off a hill whose concave womb reworded
A plaintful story from a sistering vale,
My spirits to attend this double voice accorded,
And down I laid to list the sad-tuned tale;
Ere long espied a fickle maid full pale,
Tearing of papers, breaking rings a-twain,
Storming her world with sorrow's wind and rain.
Upon her head a platted hive of straw,
Which fortified her visage from the sun,
Whereon the thought might think sometime it saw
The carcass of beauty spent and done:
Time had not scythed all that youth begun,
Nor youth all quit; but, spite of heaven's fell rage,
Some beauty peep'd through lattice of sear'd age.
Oft did she heave her napkin to her eyne,
Which on it had conceited characters,
Laundering the silken figures in the brine
That season'd woe had pelleted in tears,
And often reading what contents it bears;
As often shrieking undistinguish'd woe,
In clamours of all size, both high and low.
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 1:56 PM UTC
Glaring eyne art thine
Flaring they are; Daz'd I am.
Soothing ludene is thy tone.
To hear it; is to roam
Inside my head, like I am home.
Thou art the fountainhead of dark waters
Atop thy head, eternally it falls.
Thy arch shoots me happiness,
I shall not dodge. I shall not!
-Mahdi Dn.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC
If not in this place, but the next realm,
I shalt mine love clepe thee with guardian's to surround; thou shalt findeth me, in a Robe of ivory white, anew with the saint's,
Yahweh's chosen, i'll be in flight. Holding mine hand out, for thy own to reach, when passing the gates I've passed; thou shalt seeith the gold laden street's. I wilt signal the other's, that the portal was not breached. As thou wilt experience a million senses for thy eyne, speech, hearing, touch, thing's God to thee shalt teach. Multi-colored racemes shalt brushstroke the heavenly peak's, O' how the energy we wilt feeleth wilt be as the health of newborn's. None more thunderous storm's or anguish back upon the lower ground; now serenity none enmity against the once demons who came around. Shofar and lyres to grace Jehovah's peaceful sound's; as the echoes art vibes that cometh betwixt ourn soul's. As verily, verily, heaven's ourn abode, heaven's ourn abode by which we shan't fear. Cometh closer mine dear; the time is close, how I now heareth the heavenly Host's, ready to welcome us in. Cometh up hither Christ shalt soon say, judgement day is creeping the corner. We giveth Yahweh praise.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou)
©Prophetic poetry
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 1:28 PM UTC
Eftsoons the lumming, there shalt be
Bygone descendant's strumming.
Strumming string's,
Cleping the Almighty's name;
Yeshua ha'mashiach-
Jesus the king.
In white robes we'll dance
Pure air we'll breathe;
None need for shirt's nor pants,
None pain's of mortal being's.
None sadness to be brought inside
This place of glory, in the third heaven's sky's,
A place where thine eyne art dry,
A place of space where liberty shines.
A place with faces that never die,
Where there is no time-
Or way's of men.
Lover's, soulmates , Queen's, king's, friend's,
Guiding truth, where no river end's.
No place of pretend, no place of the lost,
All's found here, with ourn Savior's cost.
His cost of blood, upon that cross,
Upon that cross, where he was nailed;
Blood and water ran from his heart,
Gruesome detail's. Yet that's the love
He payed for us, mansion's now mine queen
Art awaiting us. So please just trust yeshua's
Holes, there in his hand's , thou wilt feel his soul.
Exploding into the cosmos, destroying death's own blow,
Don't be so worried mine queen, with him thou art whole.
Thou art the daughter of him mine love,
Just look to God O' dear God above,
When the evil forces try to shake ourn mind's
Hold mine hand, as Christ hold's mine;
Away we'll go, where the light doth shine,
O' the light doth shine, from his radiant face.
©Brandon Nagley
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou)
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
Ariseth watchman, O' prophet's dust off the dirt from thy feet. Ourn messiah is close, Iisoús Christós,
He's at the narrow door
Knocking; hair white as
Snow, countenance as
A white sun.
Waken, liven up thy hope,
For ourn lord hast risen; all thing's made subject to him.
Art thou ashamed of the great "I AM",
O' Christian? Is thy lamp trimmed, full of oil? Or is thy lamp half full.
Art thou ready? Or playing
World as time ticks through.
From thy slumber, wash the crust out of thy eyne, judgements soon to
Befall this sphere, get thy mind
Settled, focus on what's right.
Watchman watch, O' prophet's write,
Yeshua's coming as a thief;
To rapture up his bride.
©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poets poetry
©prophetic poetry
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 9:42 AM UTC
(Greek translation \version)
i.
Ischyró, sígoura
tha aposvestoún
pétra.
ii.
Parelthóntos, en afthonía,
lefkí stefáni tou
xediplotheí.
iii.
paratiritís kípou
Pýli tou katóchou;
Chrónos ágnosto.
iv.
Ékti aísthisi, Pra shatrent,
Eyne tis astrapís;
theóstaltos.
v.
Ái tis pragmatikó, ái
tis símaine. Pántote
i feeleth; zontanós
kai to periechómeno.
(English translation)
i.
Puissant, certes
whittled on
stone.
ii.
Yore, galore,
white corolla's
unfold.
iii.
Garden watcher's
Gate keeper's;
Time unknown.
iv.
Sixth sense, Pra shatrent,
eyne of lightning;
heavensent.
v.
Aye tis real, Aye
tis meant. Aye
i feeleth; alive
and content.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou)
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 10:54 PM UTC
Downtown on Mainstreet, a sarcinarious empty feel, Mr.
Jones, so cold, alone, once
Hadst a home, sold his
Life for a bottle, clear
Liquid his daily meal.
Nothing in his touch but biker
Bars, where women art strung
On pills, men nightly jailed,
Life plans for prison bars,
Knives for cuts, and dope
For cars; This side of the
Street was where the
Dealers art star's.
Mr jones once a high-degreed
College lad, moved out of his
Home, he became the unknown,
Dropped out of public vision,
Traded knowledge for rich
Men's wishes, worked in
High elite positions, a man
Of superstitions, once a time
His pockets rolled with
Hundreds and fifties,
Now his clothes smell
Of cheap wine, as his eyne taste
Of death; now a holes in-
Side of his chest.
Dreaming one day, on the side
Of the cement, a being of grace,
Not of human race; an angel of
God to Mr.Jones was sent.
"Mr. Jones", the Angel didst whisper, I came to let thee knowest, im thy guardian Mr; for God almighty hast sent me to thee, to show thee second chances do exist, and sir im not make believe, mine light is God's kiss.
©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poets poetry
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 8:10 PM UTC
( hebrew translation) English version below this....
טארן שלנו לנבול להיות מודגש, פגם אף , ולא לטמא.
ידו של אלוהים ' החזיקה את המברשת; O ' זירת מהפנט.
כשאנחנו ועשינו להבחין במרחק אחד אחרת עם הגיבורה בהתגלמותה שלנו,
לנבול צנוע אנו להיות, הפשט הרחק גאווה ארצית.
שוב אני אגיד לך, שנאה שאף יכול להיכנס כאן,
נצטרך לעמוד באוויר פירת גביש ; נולד מחדש בנצח,
הצנצנת של האסט של עדן מאוחסן הדמעה של שלנו.
זן מלכת השער הצרה,אני אעמוד ליד השערים,
בלבוש המלאכי לנבול מחכה לך;
אני אהיה זוהר , שלא אאחר .
( English version )
Ourn tarn shalt be blazoned, none blemish, nor defiling.
God's hand' held the brush; O' the scene mesmerizing.
when we shalt descry one another with our eyne,
humble wilt we be, stripped away from earthly pride.
Once again I'll tell thee, none hate can enter here,
we'll stand aloft the crystal firth; reborn in eternity,
Heaven's jar's hast stored our tear's.
Enter in the narrow gate queen,
I'll stand beside the gates,
Angelic garb wilt await thee;
I will be glowing, do not be late.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Prophetic poetry
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 10:13 PM UTC
O' unrelenting dolor, on mine
head thou dost drip, mixing
With mine lachrymose
Glossed lips. How much
More canst mine mind
And body take, maybe
I'll set the pencil down,
The more sickly I feel,
Noones hear to listen,
Only hearing is the real.
I guess I'll continue holding
Onto the tightrope that I dangle,
None human-contact in mine angle
to clasp a soulful-hopeful fool as I; none
Lingo of aye from heavens kind, just liquid
I'll sip that wilt fall from mine weary Eyne.
© Brandon nagley
© Lonesome poets poetry
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 10:52 PM UTC
Inside this poesy bower,
Do I, I do; await mine
Fresh sprayed flower,
To seest her blossom
Shower's; her honey-
Comb word's, her
Eastern dew. Burgeon-
Closely; abide with me,
Where thou art mine
Muse. Finger's wilt be
etching tool's to create
Master-designs; in the
Cloud's that reside.
Hide and seek, thus
Love we'll find; there
In ourn eyne, where
It's been all along. Do
I, I do; await this time,
Dusk til' dawn.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane nagley ( pookie dedicated)
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC
My mind got wrapped into a spell
Entwisted by two hands
And slowly, my resistance fell
Into a man’s presence
My toughts began to twist and spin
Into thin fingers touch
And faster, I’m entangling
Into a frantic clutch
Out of two dark, abyssal eyne
I drew new force and energy
And realised I can’t decline
A kind of curiousity
And fled myself into a vibe
Both flustering and soothing
Until I found myself beside
A control I confide
Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 1:30 PM UTC
Aye! Foreign Eye; tooth for a truth! you gnome eyne sane? Troot I owe ewe nah, youths dunno, you fin nah Noll. *** eye us fin nah per se, foe Theo Theo, ewe know O you no, enter ups shun, wot in the hex dies... jest say? Dis' awe beast anaconda sate shun bout Intrusion. O Why? O Why? O Eye, ice bins scratch in at Maya -Maya, day yum eye, forests rail lea bane it she laid lea. Wear Aye, yum Aye, yum Ah! Yea, *** eyes us sane, isis slow ands dims sum. Bess beefs be indy, indy, India, India, Far test fum yore deaf viand as understanding! O My! you oft de deep and of diem, diem... dim niche holes. couldst I ask I such without such plea? Pulleys! Pull East! Scaly wax inner interim oh, honor too, ides doe no, disease?
Lo! Land ** Too old geese sirs seize dearth closure mead wits mine ***** eye; and Naughty Wit Stan Ding disown. Yet fervor from mine arenose ol' hail home, I hath ne'er be -admit I to I; and plead to thee, wizened dis' Beseecher's breeching beach! Shea jest dis' a-greased wit who sow error to dew sew... ***** nil eat.
And therefore store my old hat lore, as I cast in twos that sea... Aye! thee, Foreign Eye! Truth for a truth, if truth it be, truth tell I, true to thee do I e'er be nah; e'er be I, true to thee from noun on; in air go, did jest *** you ditz dun to me, but now a blind eye a-see a freed bird!
- I caste you one lass time in due thus see. Cuss you beast an false eye, my you still dunce see, still blind you be, be dissin' in my sir name an airy way, and mode in air gone come.. a-seaward.
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 11:15 PM UTC
Beautiful paradise draping in wanton vain
Men and women visage in pain
Storming the Homeland with sorrow's wind and rain
Laundering the beauty of morning's eyne.
The carcass of Country men blown by the wind- identity.
The Clamour of torment soul of Fellow man to despair- scythed the sanity.
Tears in woe as thy'd watch the Homeland in ash
Threaded in enduring the shrieking of Homeland.
Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 2:24 AM UTC
Among summer so cruel
With heat grazed by the darkest brawn
What sun giveth life if blue or scarlet, need life live so
To name thy frith upon such UV life, such ultraviolet sight
And in UV thou love without flaw
On what corner the street so narrow, the intersected and the intersection
Eyne come not forth, make way for the immortal heart
Parley not for mutual love, thy earn is thy gain
And with growing grief thou spill thy blood in rivers of outness dreams
Lie not in the roseless garden
Be or be not as thy nature thou swear
Be, so mayst thyself is sworn
Lovely love, we canst not ever die
...if we ought to be, in ultraviolet light.
Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 8:53 PM UTC
A time had come, where everything stood frozen like ice.
And the warmth of the beating heart grew cold.
A smile cut on everyone’s face
Whilst sadness frozen in eyne
Hypocrisy carved in minds
And realization hidden in hearts.
I walked around in the land of loneliness
Surrounded by imitations of friends.
The love I once knew,
Became the reason for the hollowness inside me.
The silence I once despised,
Became my only hope for the truth to return.
The souls with age turned shapeless.
I waited...And waited.
I shut my eyes as I knew deep within
I was one of them,
I feared the verity of life.
The frozen silence was cracked by a thought of rectitude.
One thought was all it took as it spread like fire,
Melting all false virtues.
The time had changed, as now it had the momentum of fire.
A thought was all it took.
To release the heart from its numbness.
A thought was all it took to end all sanctimony.
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 1:49 PM UTC
All alone, thy soul shall this accept, 'mid gloomy concepts of the tombs of the dead -none, of many, to meddle in thy secret hour in depth: be silent in such aloneness which is not quite a loneliness -for then the phantoms of the perished who walked in pilgrimage near to thee are nearer to thee in death; and the will of these, the inheritors of this mass, shall thine own will surpass.
The nighttide-tho cloudless-shall scowl, and the eyne of the sky shalt not look down, from the great heaven's with a beacon like Desire to mortals upon the ground: but their red pyre with ire, to thy fatigue shall seem more than some blazing fire, a delirium, which could adhere to thee hereon and forever -an enigma to confound.
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 2:42 PM UTC
.
This very far which mine eyne doth
vision
the many furrowed shes
ouch
whom hath cramped mine live
mine wild
for the feral precocious
yikes
nubile nymphettes
the rapid flap of their
new vibrissa
unswervingly mine bearing
To mine left
the sophic hers
to mine right
enraptured with I
mine me
hern germinal corporeal
too
hern precocious expressive
Ahhh
dwindling
the hemp which the sophic shes
twist
whilst mine cerebral spills
too
the young shes
swell
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 4:00 PM UTC
...
Yourn purty flirt
enveloped mine cerebral's
chapter
yourn expose instigated
mine weak
mine dither
affecting this spew
From your bottom limb's attach
unto your haunch's camber's
entice
mine eyne found entertain as
morning's Spring wind winched
thine
glabrous humid tumid's
raiment
Ahhhh
vernal ardor
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 11:14 AM UTC