"heareth" poems
I hath walked past the windy breeze,
Into thy land of fading love.
What do I see?
Fairies and endless sky did paint with dove.
Bewildered and hath lost in thy strange land,
I await thee for days and nights.
Reminiscing our story in an open strand.
What do I see?
Hands intertwined, long and quite walks.
Four years has’t hath passed in a blink of an eye,
Bonded with faint whispers and a truthful lie.
An untold chapter shall I recite,
In amid of teen and sorrowful cries.
Wake up love and whisper in mine own ear,
A foreswear yond I yearn to heareth from thy heart.
“I love thee my love and we shall at no time part”.
What do I hear?
Silence did trample by the mourning clouds.
Apr 23, 2022
Apr 23, 2022 at 9:02 AM UTC
i.
Gramercy, it hast been one year now, one year of smiles, laugh's, cry's; growing together, growing
Wing's in ourn flight.
ii.
Fain I am, to seest thee at night, slumbering as a newborn, queen
Of orbiting light's, woman of mine
Insight; sagittiferous to mine
Burden's of life.
iii.
Let me clear away that vultuous countenance mine girl.
iv.
We art namelings, with ourn letter's hewed into the highest realm, noscible to the Angel's; we
We're recorded on God's
Film.
v.
Perantique we art, as we battle the being's that fell, they've broken their iron locked doorway's; to make their way out of hell.
vi.
Stand close to mine side, I canst heareth those wedding Bell's, I canst feeleth the earth to swell, as the labor pain's art now.
vii.
This place shalt sway and moan, like a drunkard without a home, the living in Christ shalt rise; with the dead already rose, silver an treasures shalt come to naught,
Home good's and store bought,
For men won't grasp their own
Thought's; as the misfortune
Cometh upon them. Lover's wilt
Love themselves, they'll seeketh life
In the devil's Lip's; for the lies he speaks art quick, powerful,
Deceiving, cunning.
viii.
Look on high mine Jane, ourn lord is coming, the globe is spinning to the drum of celestial prophecy;
None stopping wilt be, yet we art free, a king and queen with a heavenly home, with mansion's
To roam, streets followed with
Gold, with like-minded souls;
Awaiting ourn entrance.
This one year wilt lead
To an eternal precipice,
In which we shan't miss,
As all wilt take focus;
For we hath life, mine Jane
Ourn hope is this;
One son of God
Who goes by the name
Jesus; ourn hope and ourn
Reason even more to be one,
To showeth another and all
The Savior's dying love, and in him
Salvation alone, fret not mine lass, soon we shalt go home, soon all ourn waiting wilt be gone, and ourn hand's shalt hold.
Two spirit's to be;
One love,
One soul.
look up
Look up
The time is now close......
©Brandon Nagley
©Earl Jane sardua Nagley dedication ( agapi mou)
© Lonesome poets poetry
Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 9:19 AM UTC
What art thou doing today friend?
Art thou living in pleasure's;
Or materials.
What art thou doing today friend?
Art thou wearing a mask;
Putting on a good smile, screaming inside.
What doth thou doeth in thine spare time?
Doth thou hurt other's;
Taketh to never giveth, getting rich off poor and blind?
What doth thou feeleth dear friend?
Doth thou not realize, wordly pleasure's only last a second;
Until thine end.
What doth thou heareth O man?
The music to loud on thine speaker's;
Blocking out God whilst thou canst?
What art thou drinking oh brother?
Alcohol to dilute thee;
A well from God floweth much better.
Wherein is thine wife O mate?
O thou art not at thine abode;
Cheating again, with a hot date.
Wherein doth thou investeth thine time?
Material's that dissapear, putting loot into stock's and shares;
Loosing thine wordly mind?
Wherein art thy children?
Left all by their self, thy wife not getting help;
Whilst thou hath put them on the dusty shelf.
Doth thou even knoweth where thou art going?
When thine heart's pulse stoppeth;
There's a heaven and hell, beast's in cell's, where thy skin fryeth.
Doth thou taketh thing's for granted?
Living today as if there's another;
Forgot thy sister and brother's, as art purpose here is love.
Didst thou knoweth?
Thine sin's canst be forgiven, with the last day's to thee given;
Wilt thou except the creator's grace? Or turneth away?
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 5:01 PM UTC
The karvings of this awe-full fantasy amplifies,
the throbbing of my freezing heart.
The shapelessness of the kloud whispers,
wonderful mysteries in inaudible murmurs.
The blue-orange painted kanvas above.
The silhouette of the mountains that hide,
behind the undaunted smokes that forms.
The opening that the heavens made,
to show the earth its dazzling threshold.
Gradually.
Sensationally.
Approaching the land with unfathomable ardor.
Devout of the seamless tenuous night,
Gangas klangs echoes through the cold.
Lumps of land deprive the moment of silence,
as the people sing to the gods with reverence.
Heareth me, O goddess of the krops!
O god o'er all the mountains come see;
How gracefully she stood before me.
While the pyre gives emphasis to her figure.
*Kurves of the kreseant resembles her smile;
edges of her lips sink.
Beautiful exkavation mark on her left cheek,*
all in perfekt symmetry; perfektion in all she is.
"Saya Suka Awak" I told her.
that very moment:
Sparkling of the stars devoured our eyes.
Sweetest morose partings seeped in voiceless lullabies;
in unison with symphonic notes lulling unsaid goodbyes.
Through the last movement of vagueness the moment subsides.
For the love that profess fades,
with the chilly thin air it travels;
back to the heart of the other.
Oceans apart they were,
yet atop the mountains. . .
love blossomed.
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 9:33 AM UTC
Mine Filipino rose
For thee I shalt;
Be tossed inside the
The Brazen Bull;
Until mine inside's art crisp.
Be impaled
On wood;
Mine head planted on a stick.
Be crucified
Mine hand's nailed;
Thorn's upon mine top.
A Lead Sprinkler
To sprinkle lava;
In mine throat lost.
An Iron Maiden
To taketh the metal;
Inside mine liver.
Coffin Torture
To let the crow's;
Pecketh at the splinter's.
A thumbscrew
To snap me as twigs;
As mercy I yelleth.
Rope torture
To leaveth me exposed;
To hell and the element's.
The Guillotine
As mine head falleth;
Into oldened basket.
The Rack
As mine shoulder's wilt bust;
Twisting mine bracket's.
Tongue Tearer
To knot mine tongue;
And rip it at the seam's.
The Rat Torture
As mine interior wouldst be ripped;
Rat's burrowing inside me, scream's.
The chair of torture
As edge's impale mine spine;
Hellion seating.
Cement Shoes
In the bottom of the sea;
Wherein noone canst heareth me.
Crocodile Shears
To gut me as a fish;
Reptilian grip's.
The Breaking Wheel
Wherein mine limb's art tied up to spokes, hammered by devil's;
I crack, Snapple, pop, as mine bones elongate, mine blood chokes.
Sitting on the Spanish Donkey
Mine carrion torn in twain;
As heaven canst feeleth mine pain, for thee I'd screameth again.
Saw Torture
As tis the razor's edge wouldst goeth through mine abdomen;
Evil bastard's shalt cut me, as I'm praying amen, just to DIETH.
Hanged, Drawn, and Quartered
It sais it all in the verse;
For thee I'd haveth all this done mine queen, for thee to liveth.......
©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane dedication
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 10:04 PM UTC
Beaugelic quempress,
A Serentifying archipelago
We shalt repose; nearby a
Bryefire, burning liquid's
Of scented rose. Gardenia
Perfume, to sheen ourn
Outer layer's; scribing
Of the almighty, inscribed
Into ourn conscious, galaping
Another's inviting. Extraciting-
Anjarising, O' flambustic passing;
Her cherithronius' marble foundation,
Hast given me solid ground, wherein
I heareth the most karstrett of once was
Lost, now found. Darshaying in Romanticism's
Prism; making drum beat's to **** street's,
And archaic rhythm's.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl jane Nagley dedication ( Filipino rose)
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 9:14 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
(Mina)
I looked up at the sky
dear god you listening?
I wonder how you let us sin
as if you just don't see a thing
( Brandon)
( God)
I heareth thee mine child
For tis man hath his free will
Yet man hath forgotten me
Dilutes me by drink and by pills
(Mina)
why did you give man the right to
do all these inhumane acts
forget you as simple as this
and get obsessed with his own tasks.
( Brandon)
(God)
I loveth man
He hath his own will to chooseth,
Simply one choice
Me or the devil their soul giveth!!!
Thou must remember mine daughter
For man the devil doth temp,
Man chooseth to sell his own soul
As to Satan man to him is for rent!!!
( Mina)
you are the creator of man
and you gave him the free will
while you could take it all away
ask him to pray for you still
instead you gave him a second choice
by which he could've gone amiss
devil never seemed to be trustful
could mislead you simple as a kiss...
(Brandon)
(God)
Tis right mine offspring
I'm the creator of all
The devil didst betray me
As his cherubs didst fall
And though this world mayeth be dark
And hellish after all
I am the light
Between hellion Shaw!!!
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 2:36 PM UTC
A soft answer turneth
away wrath: but grievous
words stir up anger.
2 The tongue of the wise useth
knowledge aright: but the mouth
of fools poureth out foolishness.
3 The eyes of the Lord are
in every place beholding the evil
and the good.
4 A wholesome tongue is a tree
if life: but perverseness therein is
a breach in the spirit.
5 A fool despiseth his father's
instruction: but he the regardeth
reproof is prudent.
6 In the house of the righteous
is much treasure: but in the
revenues of the wicked is trouble.
7 The lips of the wise disperse
knowledge: but the heart of the
foolish doeth not so.
8 The sacrifice of the wicked
is an abomination to the Lord: but
the prayer of the upright is his delight.
9 The way of the wicked is an
abomination unto the Lord: but
he loveth him that followeth
after righteousness.
10 Correction is grievous unto
him that forsaketh the way: and
he that hateth reproof shall die.
11 Hell and destruction are
before the Lord: how much more
then the hearts of the children of
men?
12 A scorner loveth not one
that reproveth him: neither will he
go unto the wise.
13 A merry heart maketh a
cheerful countenance: but by
sorrow of the heart the spirit is
broken.
14 The heart of them that hath
understanding seeketh knowledge:
but the mouth of fools
feedeth on foolishness.
15 All the days of the afflicted
are evil: but he that is of a merry
heart hath a continual feast.
16 Better is little with the fear
of the Lord than great treasure
and trouble therewith.
17 Better is a dinner of herbs
where love is, than a stalled ox
and hatred therewith.
18 A wrathful man stirreth up
strife: but he that is slow to anger
appeaseth strife.
19 The way of the slothful man
is as an hedge of thorns: but the
way of the righteous is made
plain.
20 A wise son maketh a glad
father: but a foolish man
despiseth his mother.
21 Folly is joy to him that is
destitute of wisdom: but a man of
understanding walketh uprightly.
22 Without counsel purposes
are disappointed: but in the
multitude of counsellors they are
established.
23 A man hath joy by the
answer of his mouth: and a word
spoken in due season, how good
is it!
24 The way of life is above to
the wise, that he may depart from
hell beneath.
25 The Lord will destroy the
house of the proud: but he will
establish the border of the
widow.
26 The thoughts of the wicked
are an abomination to the Lord:
but the words of the pure are
pleasant words.
27 He that is greedy of gain
troubleth his own house; but he
that hateth gifts shall live.
28 The heart of the righteous
studieth to answer: but the
mouth of the wicked poureth out
evil things.
29 The Lord is far from the
wicked: but he heareth the
prayer of the righteous.
30 The light of the eyes rejoiceth
the heart: and a good report
maketh the bones fat.
31 The ear that heareth the
reproof of life abideth among the
wise.
32 He that refuseth instruction
despiseth his own soul: but he
that heareth reproof getteth
understanding.
33 The fear of the Lord is the
instruction of wisdom; and before
honour is humility.
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 12:00 PM UTC
I hear the deserts of the singing,
Calling me,
Wandering forth tears of a Spirit.
For many walks I lessen my pride,
Wondering,
Is it You calling me to heareth?
Mad before, I have ransacked some woods,
Treasures lost…
Finally awoken to find worth.
I’m gonna give them all what they want,
Never found…
For them to realize this is all Earth.
Let them cry, love, heal - all to find way…
Here - I am a dead man anyway…
Oct 11, 2021
Oct 11, 2021 at 6:03 PM UTC
I seeith soo many Wisemen here
Yet doth thou follow thine own teaching?
I seeith soo many lovers here
Yet doth thou showeth that other half love?
I seeith soo many hurt ones here
Yet doth thou not know somebody loveth thou?
I seeith soo much hate here
Yet doth thou knoweth loves the answer?
I seeith soo much cutting another down here
Yet doth thou even want to listen to one? Not just heareth!!!
I seeith soo many complaints here
Yet doth thou tryeth to do anything about it?
I seeith so much shame here
Doth thou not knoweth God forgiveth all?
I seeith soo much guilt here
We only haveth today,
Not tommorrow reader of awee.
I seeith soo much
Yet soo little truthful love
I seeith
Through a prophetic crystal ball!!!
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 10:43 AM UTC
Morn hath come, and I rushest out of my bed;
I washest my hands, and striketh my fingers wet;
I cleaneth out dust, which keepest falling from 'em stilll;
I greetest lone dew, clouds, and yon usual mornin' shrill;
I washest my face, and ponderest over Thy Grace;
I soaketh my lips, and saith Thy love verses;
Verses of love, my florid comfort and solace;
Best of wonders, justice, and solar miracles;
I slideth hastily into my white gown;
For dawn hath come, and greeted me when alone;
Night hath but been a dream and a tiny song;
With chords unreal, and words t'at were not long;
When winds are gurgling and my fantasy is torn;
I still wantest to think but of Thee alone;
The verses of love t'at hath long been gone;
Leaving me deathlike, and breathless on my own;
My blood is again thirsting for Thy love;
Whose enemy hath been dishonest all t'ese years;
When I boweth to th' floor and looketh again at Thee above;
Within my chaste gown, I recalleth my prudent inward tears;
Tears t'at hath never real faded, nor waned;
Tears t'at hath hitherto kept me all sane;
Thy verses of love made me once more feel loved;
And healed my congested soul t'at was sorely halved;
Within my heart dwelleth but one lump of scars;
But all t'ese years I'th known Thou art ne'er t'at far;
With Thee only, my past regrets might just seemeth fatuous;
My whining heart cometh relieved, and my virtues turneth joyous;
Ah, Thee, Lord of th' Worlds and of nights and days;
Ah, Thee, Whose verses are prettier than what we hear;
Ah, Thee, Whose Light is tenderer than any poems I might say;
Ah, Thee, Who ruleth but alive and always stayeth here;
Ah, Thee, Who engendered earth, hell, and heaven;
Ah, Thee, Who tamest wild souls, and enlightenest the chosen;
Ah, Thee, under Whom enemies canst be our best friends;
Ah, Thee, under Whom misery canst be glad, and hearts are patient;
Ah, Thee, by Whom an infant shall healthily grow;
Ah, Thee, by Whom days shall fade, and be braced for tomorrow;
Ah, Thee, by Whom th' luminous shall win and as ever glow;
Ah, Thee, Who always listeneth and heareth and ceaseth not to know;
I praiseth Thee and Thee only with joy;
I claimeth my blessings and honour to Thy Prophets;
Thy delight is th' sweetest t'is life canst employ;
Thee, by Whom I was created--and by Whose Mercy I am fed.
And I boweth again and again to the floor;
I criest my deepest tears, and cite t'ose anew from th' core;
Thy verses of love t'at were once then thwarted;
But as I ever know, Thou shalt always leave my heart rewarded.
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 8:42 PM UTC
(Darlene)
Countless nights
I spent awake
Tossing and turning
But never could sleep
(Brandon nagley)
Countless hour's
Of depression's power
Silence is all
Though demon's mess with mine Slumber...
(Darlene)
I've layed here for minutes
Though it feels like hours
(Brandon nagley)
And the hours to mine brain
Wrap around me in deathly sleep showers.
(Darlene)
My eyes are dry........
(Brandon nagley)
And whilst these eyes art dried
I contemplate suicide
Take the ticket? To young to die?
Until now I'll try, pray to god for asleep
Yet these legs art sore, mine neck is creaked.
(Darlene)
I just want my blood to be leaked...........
(Brandon nagley)
I just want a freedom from me
A freedom for sleep
God doth thou heareth me, I'm tired
This bed is wired, the phones on fire.
Must I go on this hellish night routine????
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©duo with me and Darlene
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC
i.
Gracefully,
She tastefully-
Amazingly,
Loveth me;
ii.
Thankfully,
I'm blatantly,
Her king of
Dream's, wherein
Sparkles gleam,
And satellite
Ring's; maketh
Babies from me
And her's trail.
iii.
Europeasian braille,
For the sightless, europosia;
We teacheth those without hearing to heareth,
meladrona to those that fear, to be fearless, and bestride the pinnacle of perheava.
iv.
Blithe of the era-
That's never ending;
Eternal, amour
Unbending.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
On a patterned nebula, paramour's giggle whilst locking warmly hand's, like two stray's of a different course, they runneth by none command's, all promises filled, as their cheek's do touch, like flourishing rainbow's, heaven to ground's lunch. They maketh their own commandment's, as tis the world's just a stage, grandiose in their delightment, making newsstand page. Bambino's of the unknown, covered in flamboyant flakes, overcoming the new-age step's, of this passing place. And whilst they art simpering, their taste buds over-runneth, their cup is not made from steel, but gold of king's and Queen's chalice. And whilst at dusk, when the blood moon cometh out, the neighbor's canst heareth their love, out the window's it doth bounce. Echoe's of their novela, they'll speaketh many tongue's, and whilst their alone together, their embracing head on shoulder love.....
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 9:01 PM UTC
(Mina)
I looked up at the sky
dear god you listening?
I wonder how you let us sin
as if you just don't see a thing
( Brandon)
( God)
I heareth thee mine child
For tis man hath his free will
Yet man hath forgotten me
Dilutes me by drink and by pills
(Mina)
why did you give man the right to
do all these inhumane acts
forget you as simple as this
and get obsessed with his own tasks.
( Brandon)
(God)
I loveth man
He hath his own will to chooseth,
Simply one choice
Me or the devil their soul giveth!!!
Thou must remember mine daughter
For man the devil doth temp,
Man chooseth to sell his own soul
As to Satan man to him is for rent!!!
( Mina)
you are the creator of man
and you gave him the free will
while you could take it all away
ask him to pray for you still
instead you gave him a second choice
by which he could've gone amiss
devil never seemed to be trustful
could mislead you simple as a kiss...
(Brandon)
(God)
Tis right mine offspring
I'm the creator of all
The devil didst betray me
As his cherubs didst fall
And though this world mayeth be dark
And hellish after all
I am the light
Between hellion Shaw!!!
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 2:48 PM UTC
i.
Mine forefinger is tapping the olden transelic piano Key's,
The room Grecian white, with an oriental shorite; her voice
Is soft, her halo's aloft the lid of mine musical box. As tis I playeth "Unchained Melody"'by the Righteous Brothers, ourn pupil's art jubilant; soulmates igniting together. Brandon! Brandon!
ii.
She calleth out mine name.
The aria gets louder,
The habitation wherein we liveth,
Smileth upon us;
As affections groweth fonder.
iii.
Ourn flesh wrapped like nests,
Of a bird's home in wonder.
Gazing up into the the hereafter,
One day happiness there we to shalt
Conquer.
iv.
As mine angelic host
Lift's me up to the celestial yonder;
I heareth her feather's flapping with the cherub's,
Ourn amour splitting sky's, as lightning with the thunder.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( agapi mou) dedication
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 10:04 PM UTC
i.
Atop of Mount Sinai
Pious place noone goeth;
Sentinel's keepeth watch
Just in case the Devil showeth.
ii.
I came to an emanation
As the lambent dreweth me near;
She was wearing islander garb
She cometh from afar, not from here.
iii
She explained she was visiting
With the other angelic's inside;
I dropped and I fainted
From tis her beauty I didst cry.
iv.
As tis the squamous underworld master's
Came up from their woeful sleeping;
Mine luminescence bearer held them back
I couldst heareth them yelp, mine body began shaking.
v.
And whilst I was quivering
The rock's began to shaketh;
I kneweth mine queen was unearthly
For tis she saved me, and she fleweth me off, as hell quaketh.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 5:56 PM UTC
We woke
To stardust in ourn crevice
With flakes of joy on the tip's
Of ourn still sleepy nose
I feeleth thine soul.
So warmly good
As the quilt upon us.
Stitched in by love
Giveth us a hug,
As we giveth one back....
Pillows plush fluffy
The day's anew,
To these words I heareth by thee...
Kiss me, mine pet!!!!
I got red and smiled wide.
Knowing being with her,
Shalt be the rest of mine life's.........
And many more divine!!!!
Oh,
How this feeleth so right....
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Elsa Angelica dedicated
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 6:27 PM UTC
A standstill!!!!
The planet's spinning out of control!!!
Mistaken identities are non friendly!!!
A false temple shalt be erected
The saviors ressurected
For didn't thou heareth?
No more sadness
No more tears
To famish a costly spirit!!!
Open murderer's
Wilt **** with a smile
The land of the old
And persecution's trials
Wilt shake!!!!!
Trembled cake!!!
No layers of good taste!!!
A volcanic comeback
For all to see,
As the fish and the trees
Come to their boil!!!!!
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 5:37 PM UTC
Poetic,
Thy beak can speak words of sensual charm,
But canst thou speak of what's to cometh?
Poetic,
Thy words do flow and run,
As a waterfall, tumbling hummus!!
Poetic,
Thou canst shape lives by thy wittled crippled fingers,
Yet canst thou show thy action? Like thy hero's and singers?
Poetic,
Thou canst bringeth life to thy surroundings,or death to thy foes,
Yet wilt thou giveth all thou haveth from thy back? Or steal poor men's troves!!!
Poetic,
Thineself can waketh one to splendor,or putteth them to sleep,
But cans't thou heareth them? Rub their bones when their weak?
Poetic
Poetress
Poets
Tis I do believe!!
With thy words,
Thine self could make seeds to eternal beautitude,
Or everlasting damnation!!!!
I'm a stoic,
For mine words art mine action's!!!
Art thy own?
Poetic.....
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 3:51 PM UTC
I see mine queen, her brown eye's, to,
I see her view, so much beauty, so true
And I think to mineself
She mine mi amour'............
I seeith the sky with her moon, moon of night
The luminescent sun, with her smile so bright
And tis, I think to mineself
She's mine mi amour'!!!!!!!!
The colors of her words, so unknown to mankind,
An angel of God, a writer in disguise...
I seeith her showing love, asking other's ( how dost thou do?)
She's just being her, as tis she loveth helping me and thou to...
When I heareth her crying, I heareth her moan.
She's mine all, I'd taketh her pain, and cleareth her white as snow
Because I think to mineself.......
She's mine mi amour'!!!!!
Yes, tis, I think to mineself..........
SHE'S MINE MI AMOUR'..............
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 8:12 PM UTC
Some say tis a curse to seeith and heareth things
That other's quote sayeth:
( is not there)
Well God happened to giveth me this foresight
To heareth and feeleth and seeith good and bad spirit's around me....
And trust me,
I got plenty of evidence...
So thine own theory ( they don't exist) oh man
Doesn't fly with me.....
I knew this long ago..
As I must say it was a blessing
Being raised in a family who kneweth God already..
As many don't get that opportunity...
Tis a curse as well with this gift,
Of seeing
Feeling
Knowing
Hearing....
Because with the good still lingering coming in and out....
The little brute Hellion's are quite a hassle.....
They scratch
Get one sick
( physcially) so on every which way....
They'll calleth one out by name
Plenty evidence of that recorded down....
But whilst at the same time
These little brutes hateth when I calleth on God for help
(Fallen angels they are)
As the good angels ( gods) hath always swooped in
Wherein the hellion dissapear.....
Yea,
They know not to mess with one of God's....
And the world will sit there
In human thinking....
And ask themselves,
Why didst man **** another man???
Or why didst he pull the trigger to his temple
Or so on....????
I can telleth thou this oh friend....
As the word goes...
For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.
As mankind.
Seems to hath forgotten...
Or more than that
Wants to run from its dark truth....
For tis I
Who knoweth better...
For I don't run
No needeth to run
For they always find me due to mine bright aura...
And human kind doth not realize
( other than a few)
That the brighter thy soul is
And more energy and more open thou art...
The more they cometh around.....
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 7:40 AM UTC
Arduous art thy times?
Spanish traveler,
Thy eyes are teared,
Makeup smeared,
For I shalt wipe them with arcane kisses...
Art thou desolate?
A forgotten innocent,
For thy renaissance is coming,
Thy voice I want to heareth humming,
Wilt thou except mine call?
Caramel skinned fair one,
Beam to the sun,
Replenisher of one,
Me...the one thyself uplifts!!!
Veracity here dont miss!!!
Thou art recondite to many,
Yet to me thou giveth plenty,
Thou art a hundred,
To every Penny,
Thy beneficence I do see!!!
If I could id take thy pain,
Along with all thy Spanish rain,
I'd throne thou as queen
To all thy dreams,
Like Cinderella mine dear!!!
I'd find thou thy prince
I would gloss thy soul
With happiness,
I'd take thy sullen worries in maverick of ways,
Queen of god, queen of conundrum place!!!
I'd feel thy skin,
And warm thy bones,
I'd walk next beside thou,
In emptied roads
Crucified for thou, taking thy pain in nail form!
Id appease thou with roses,
Rub thy feet in fine tinker,
A neck message like liquor,
And ourn fingers would be locked
Instantaneously space jolted!!!
I would stare through thine marbles as no other,
Be thine kin
Significant other
Aren't friends there for eachother?
Queen of spicy roots!!!
Thou art a euphony with writings,
And thine mind
So enticing
Thy inventions much laudable
As I soak in thy suds!!!
To thou I'd make a novel
For no worries
Nor any sorrows
Rest today
Id come tomorrow, in dreamlike apparition!!!
For thou I would cook,
I would hide amongst thy books
Like two felons
Diverse crooks
Innovate ourn own genes....
Virtuoso of volition woes,
Take mine shirt
We'll rest on snow
Nostalgia thou shalt not want
When thou will rest thy head in mine lap!!!
A fertile bed
A comfy nap
Primal beings
Angelic trapped
One mellifluous ******** bomb!!!
I'd pull thou close
Take off ourn shoes
I'll gallop far
For me and thou
I'll make it queen, make it somehow!!
We shalt be magnanimous under the moon!!!
Well magnate as creatures
Of lost lagoon
Well douse in hot concentration!!!
Thou art alone
Mine lonely goddess
One of love
And old time knowledge
For Its strange
Thou I've felt as if I've known thou for one thousand lifetimes before!!!!!
Mi amour'
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 5:34 PM UTC
i.
Floret of the zenith,
Shower down upon
Me; with thine arm's
Wrap and garb me,
With a diadem
Hemmed
As a rose
Petal's
Stem.
ii.
Lass, of mine desire.
There's a shimmer aside
The fire; ourn silhouettes
Trace ourn love's attire,
I calleth thee Reyna, as
I heareth the whisper
"Sire", I gently kiss
Thine hand; we tire.
Falling asleep, in ourn
Dream's, with thee I squire.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 12:25 AM UTC