"feareth" poems
April doesnt hurt here
Like it does in New England
The ground
Vast and brown
Surrounds dry towns
Located in the dust
Of the coming locust
Live for survival, not for 'kicks'
Be a bangtail describer,
like of shrouded traveler
in Textile tenement & the birds fighting in yr ears-like Burroughs exact to describe & gettin $
The Angry Hunger
(hunger is anger)
who fears the
hungry feareth
the angry)
And so I came home
To Golden far away
Twas on the horizon
Every blessed day
As we rolled And we rolled
From Donner tragic Pass
Thru April in Nevada And out Salt City Way Into the dry Nebraskas And sad Wyomings Where young girls And pretty lover boys
With Mickey Mantle eyes
Wander under moons
Sawing in lost cradle
And Judge O Fasterc
Passes whiggling by To ask of young love: ,,Was it the same wind Of April Plains eve that ruffled the dress
Of my lost love
Louanna
In the Western
Far off night
Lost as the whistle
Of the passing Train
Everywhere West
Roams moaning
The deep basso
- Vom! Vom!
- Was it the same love
Notified my bones As mortify yrs now
Children of the soft
Wyoming April night?
Couldna been!
But was! But was!'
And on the prairie
The wildflower blows
In the night For bees & birds And sleeping hidden Animals of life.
The Chicago
Spitters in the spotty street
Cheap beans, loop, Girls made eyes at me And I had 35 Cents in my jeans -
Then Toledo
Springtime starry
Lover night Of hot rod boys And cool girls A wandering
A wandering
In search of April pain A plash of rain
Will not dispel This fumigatin hell Of lover lane This park of roses Blue as bees
In former airy poses
In aerial O Way hoses
No tamarand And figancine Can the musterand Be less kind
Sol -
Sol -
Bring forth yr Ah Sunflower - Ah me Montana
Phosphorescent Rose
And bridge in
fairly land
I'd understand it all -
11.1k
From depths of woe I raise to Thee
The voice of lamentation;
Lord, turn a gracious ear to me
And hear my supplication;
If Thou iniquities dost mark,
Our secret sins and misdeeds dark,
O who shall stand before Thee?
To wash away the crimson stain,
Grace, grace alone availeth;
Our works, alas! are all in vain;
In much the best life faileth:
No man can glory in Thy sight,
All must alike confess Thy might,
And live alone by mercy.
Therefore my trust is in the Lord,
And not in mine own merit;
On Him my soul shall rest, His Word
Upholds my fainting spirit:
His promised mercy is my fort,
My comfort, and my sweet support;
I wait for it with patience.
What though I wait the livelong night,
And till the dawn appeareth,
My heart still trusteth in His might;
It doubteth not nor feareth:
Do thus, O ye of Israel’s seed,
Ye of the Spirit born indeed;
And wait till God appeareth.
Though great our sins and sore our woes,
His grace much more aboundeth;
His helping love no limit knows,
Our utmost need it soundeth.
Our Shepherd good and true is He,
Who will at last His Israel free.
From all their sin and sorrow.
~ Martin Luther (1483-1546)
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
There is a poet
And poetess
That writeth;
In the slums
And the ghetto's;
In the suburb's
In the meadow's.
There is a poet
And poetess
That prophecieth
In the mountain's
In the city, neath
Their graves, in
Tomb's, free one's,
Slave's, some known,
Many doomed, in
Heaven's gates, some
Art poor, some telleth
Of fate, some art lonesome,
Some speaketh of amour',
Some linger in the shadows,
Tortured by demon's, anguished;
Fighting hellish and earthly battles.
There is a poet and poetess that writeth in blood and in ink:
Some feareth death, death to some doth succumb when these artist's speak. Some hath wealth, some with naught, some groweth their own food, whilst other's stick to store bought. Some art peasant's, some art farmer's, some poet's preach and teacheth; whilst other's want to alarm us. There is a poet and poetess in this life and the next; some looketh down on loved one's, whilst the living is blinded by material net's. Some art lost, forgotten, some speaketh Spanish, Hindi, English, Arabic, french, lost languages, or Latin. Some just want to love, whilst some seeketh to findeth love, some want to flyeth away, as if a falcon or a dove. Some thinkest their better than most, others thinkest they art not better then noone, feeling dead as if a ghost. Some jotteth poetry to make them remember living, some art charitable, whilst poet's in prison sit and rot from killing or stealing. Some passeth time staring at the ceiling, whilst some overwork, some casteth their ten percent to worldly lusts, whilst other's pay to God in church. There is a poet and poetess that writeth, being dead or alive; O' poet's were all distinctly different though the same, in God's poetic eye's..............
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC
John 13:34 ( king james bible) christ speaking---
A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. 35By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.
1 John 7-21
7Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. 8He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love. 9In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him. 10Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. 11Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another. 12No man hath seen God at any time. If we love one another, God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us. 13Hereby know we that we dwell in him, and he in us, because he hath given us of his Spirit. 14And we have seen and do testify that the Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world.
15Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in him, and he in God. 16And we have known and believed the love that God hath to us. God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him. 17Herein is our love made perfect, that we may have boldness in the day of judgment: because as he is, so are we in this world. 18There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love. 19We love him, because he first loved us. 20If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen? 21And this commandment have we from him, That he who loveth God love his brother also.
1 john- 3:11-24
11For this is the message that ye heard from the beginning, that we should love one another. 12Not as Cain, who was of that wicked one, and slew his brother. And wherefore slew he him? Because his own works were evil, and his brother's righteous.
13Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate you. 14We know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren. He that loveth not his brother abideth in death. 15Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer: and ye know that no murderer hath eternal life abiding in him. 16Hereby perceive we the love of God, because he laid down his life for us: and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren. 17But whoso hath this world's good, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him? 18My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth. 19And hereby we know that we are of the truth, and shall assure our hearts before him. 20For if our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all things. 21Beloved, if our heart condemn us not, then have we confidence toward God. 22And whatsoever we ask, we receive of him, because we keep his commandments, and do those things that are pleasing in his sight.
23And this is his commandment, That we should believe on the name of his Son Jesus Christ, and love one another, as he gave us commandment. 24And he that keepeth his commandments dwelleth in him, and he in him. And hereby we know that he abideth in us, by the Spirit which he hath given us.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 11:53 PM UTC
So I feareth this time,
after countless unscathed elusions,
thou shalt be hit in the bullseye of thine instability.
And life shall cease to be what it hath been for thee;
naught shall ever betide the same nor semblance remain.
Thou shalt be thrown from comfort to discomfort,
from known to unknown—order to chaos.
Thou mayest advance henceforth with heroic stride.
Hitherto ameliorate thy flawed character and excess pride.
Or thou mayest sink fathoms beneath the ocean’s floor,
albatross bound to mangled tongue, too bitter to implore.
Didst thou not know?
That no wight be impervious to misfortune?
And so despair?
Giveth thyself a mote of credit Mine untried son,
thou hast always known.
Thou art a child no more.
Void is thy license to lie about thy back on spring days,
heedless of thy wristwatch, harkening to wind-chimes,
daydreaming—building castles on dense blue firmament,
cogitating the phenomenon of mind, body, and soul.
I hath been with thee for eternity.
Watching, waiting.
So dearly proud of thee.
Thou art of distinct variety.
Thou canst see what others canst not see.
And for that, thou art held to greater scrutiny.
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 3:08 AM UTC
~
*Hear me, and heed my woe,
i tryeth to not bethink on Thee …
how thy smileth reaches
thy eyen and
crinkles the c'rn'rs
immensely.
Thy confidence, a flame
yond burneth with f'rvent might,
intimidating, yet draweth me in,
as moth to candle's lighteth.
Thy passion is contagious,
thy excitement a thrill,
i tryeth to not bethink on Thee …
but mem'ries ling'r still
i tryeth to not bethink on Thee …
as thee gazeth into mine own eyen
bef're our lips meeteth
our intimate moments,
a sensual rapture,
thy corse, a w'rk of art,
sculpt'd p'rfectly in all its
muscular stature
i tryeth to not bethink on Thee …
the way we w're,
young with a future,
we couldst not seeth.
What ifs and maybes,
a maze, i tryeth to escapeth,
longing f'r what couldst've been,
a heart yond acheth.
Ev'ry fare thee well,
a pang in mine own chest,
feareth of nev'r seeing thee again,
and all yond is repress'd
Thy absence, a weight
yond i doth striveth to shaketh,
wond'ring wh're thou art,
what thou dost maketh.
Art thou joyous, art thou free from careth?
i tryeth to not bethink on Thee …
yet some days, 'tis hard to beareth.
In sooth,
i am not depress'd,
n'r doth i feeleth the blues, wh'reupon
i f'rce myself to not bethink on Thee …
by mineth owneth shall, anon.*
~
Aug 30, 2025
Aug 30, 2025 at 9:29 AM UTC
I live and walk the world at night,
my home and haven have no light,
my heart and soul are black and grim,
my life is filled with naught but sin,
I live alone and without hope,
I often wonder how I cope,
I live on death, and feed on life,
I lavish in each mortal's strife,
I walk amongst you through the dark,
as if I’m some immortal shark,
I hunger for all that you've seen,
my lust is for what could have been,
I fear not death, but feareth life,
it cuts me deep, as if a knife,
it's blade runs right into my core,
I wonder if I will endure,
I once had hopes and dreams and prayers,
I once had love and faith and cares,
alas I’ve lost all that I had,
enslaved and chained, my soul is bad,
I call to mortals, through the cold,
please value that which you hold,
that which I, and many more,
have lost, now and forever more,
Think about the world around,
each tiny ant upon the ground,
and value all that life has here,
and never hide from any fear,
We call you from the darkened cave,
deep within an earthly grave,
Think before you enter here,
live your life, cry a tear,
Live a life of joyous games
and seek all that this life contains,
This life is yours and that is all,
and never to the depths you’ll fall.
Feb 25, 2010
Feb 25, 2010 at 4:52 AM UTC
1john 4:18- There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 9:07 PM UTC
I guess
What feareth me the most
Is feeling like
Im the only one in this...
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 6:42 PM UTC