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"layeth" poems
She layeth aloft Mine Libra scale's; And tis I must say She balance's them out perfectly. ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl Jane nagley dedication/Filipino rose....
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Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 7:36 PM UTC
Balancing the scale's
She knoweth what I'm going to sayest Before I sayest it; She understandeth mine heart and pain Before mine blood displayeth it; She layeth me to sleep When I get sleepy; She layeth her head virtually upon mine chest When I'm in weeping; She Whisper's she loveth me Before I canst speaketh it back; When I'm on the wrong road, losing direction to mine soul, Her and God get me back on track; When I feeleth lonesome She filleth up that lonesomeness; When the anguish get's noisome She giveth me her all, her best. Earl Jane nagley is mine soulmate Tis I'm more than blessed; We art both preordained, from the beginning, eternal flame's We art life, life is us, we art soulmates. Indeed...... We art soulmates!!! ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl Jane nagley dedication ( Filipino rose) soulmate of mine ©Hari and Reyna incorporated
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Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 7:15 PM UTC
We art soulmates!!!!
i. I thought of the former second's Hours, day's night's; How unaccompanied and lonesome I felt. ii. I remembered, even whilst being with former Others, how I kneweth mine heart and soul for them wasn't meant; as mine prayer's to god was sent, the pain I dealt. iii. As tis the time was uneasy for me, knowing I couldst be in the crowd, with none to truly loveth me as I them, mine soul screaming loud; lord where is thine angel thou hath prepared? iv. As tis I thought last evening, through all mine sorrow's, pain's, and dreaming's. God, mine father heard me, as I wept, and slept; How he waited for me to go through mine trial's and tribulations. v. As after going through prison, through cell's, through false dealer's, in real hell. I, remembered last eve', god doth not do thing's in or on mine time; the creator doth thing's in his span. vi. Not according to the way's nor law's of men, but to him, as whilst I layeth down happily looking at mine queen through this faraway screen, I hadst the thought, God gaveth me the answer to what I've prayed for a long whilst; he gaveth me jane, for mine health. ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl jane Nagley dedication ( Filipino rose)
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Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 4:15 PM UTC
Salamat panginoon ( Thank you god) filipino tongue
I miss mine homie, Who in the world's name is homie? One mayeth ask..... Well homie Is mine old German Shepherd..... Dad named him that Funny yes I know.... Long story .... And though I haveth many Angel's here on earth...... Homie, Was mine true pet angel.... He always watched out for me when I was around nine years old. And when one day, At mine birthday party... Mine friends tried to be OK with homie, As me and homie were soulmates friend and being wise... So mine friend's tried to feed homie through his fence hotdogs, Like I did with no problem... And mine old buddy Danny found out. Homie didn't eat hot dog's Unless I Gaveth them to him .... Me, his best friend and soulmate! Fed them to him.... As I saw homie ready to rip Danny's hand off... I just chuckled and told homie... Down boy down... Homie always listened... He was mine soulmate.... My do I miss mine homie... As I remembered one day coming home from school... Mum picking me up from that young learning center, She said son I got something to tell thee, On the way home... (Yes mum) I said... Well, Homie died I found him whilst thou was at school son... ( said mum) I couldn't say nothing I think I just said really? As mum told me He was found in his doghouse Curled up Dead..... I questioned her? Where is he mother? Wherein did thou layeth his body mum? I asked.... She told me she had taken him to some place about fifteen minutes away, And buried him in some wood's.... I wasn't angry with her. Nor even father, I was hurt because I didint get to see his body... I was hurt because I told mother and father all the time... Bring him INSIDE!!!!!! When it got cold... As I remember it was cold And snowing when he died........ Yes I understood homie was a big dog And couldst be a little wild at times.... Though we had a basement With rooms in that basement And couldst haveth put a cage down there.... So I felt horrible I didint just bring him in Even though they thought it was fine to stay outside During winter...... Mum thought he was poisoned By someone putting something in his food.... My opinion is he died alone, When I was gone, And froze to death.... Don't like thinking of it... I just miss him to mine soul!!!!!!!!! I forgive mum and dad not angry, Just canst waiteth to see mine angel again... R.I.P homie baby boy... See you in heaven (:
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Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 3:06 PM UTC
Homie
I miss mine homie, Who in the world's name is homie? One mayeth ask..... Well homie Is mine old German Shepherd..... Dad named him that Funny yes I know.... Long story .... And though I haveth many Angel's here on earth...... Homie, Was mine true pet angel.... He always watched out for me when I was around nine years old. And when one day, At mine birthday party... Mine friends tried to be OK with homie, As me and homie were soulmates friend and being wise... So mine friend's tried to feed homie through his fence hotdogs, Like I did with no problem... And mine old buddy Danny found out. Homie didn't eat hot dog's Unless I Gaveth them to him .... Me, his best friend and soulmate! Fed them to him.... As I saw homie ready to rip Danny's hand off... I just chuckled and told homie... Down boy down... Homie always listened... He was mine soulmate.... My do I miss mine homie... As I remembered one day coming home from school... Mum picking me up from that young learning center, She said son I got something to tell thee, On the way home... (Yes mum) I said... Well, Homie died I found him whilst thou was at school son... ( said mum) I couldn't say nothing I think I just said really? As mum told me He was found in his doghouse Curled up Dead..... I questioned her? Where is he mother? Wherein did thou layeth his body mum? I asked.... She told me she had taken him to some place about fifteen minutes away, And buried him in some wood's.... I wasn't angry with her. Nor even father, I was hurt because I didint get to see his body... I was hurt because I told mother and father all the time... Bring him INSIDE!!!!!! When it got cold... As I remember it was cold And snowing when he died........ Yes I understood homie was a big dog And couldst be a little wild at times.... Though we had a basement With rooms in that basement And couldst haveth put a cage down there.... So I felt horrible I didint just bring him in Even though they thought it was fine to stay outside During winter...... Mum thought he was poisoned By someone putting something in his food.... My opinion is he died alone, When I was gone, And froze to death.... Don't like thinking of it... I just miss him to mine soul!!!!!!!!! I forgive mum and dad not angry, Just canst waiteth to see mine angel again... R.I.P homie baby boy... See you in heaven (:
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Do we notice the finer things in life? The husband's and wives, children that's been conceived! Thou and they are all thou needeth when thy roof springs its leak! Sick Wearied Weak? Looking in all the wrong places? Itinerant in the stagnative imagination's For don't even the mammals haveth a place to stay? Like the son of man I haveth no chapel For this head to consecretly layeth!!! Dog nights seem more teething!!!! Vestige of all beauty You've left that still life post, Wherein thy mantra's I seeketh the most!!! The I loveth thou's And thou more.... Deluge of happiness Covereth me Bury me In atmospheric condition, Oh man didst thou not mention? The plaques to ***** it's protract sorrow!!!! Hath society made materialism And the dollar sign Their romantic gesture? A pity to God And me!!!! Mobs of fleas To calleth what they maketh MANIFESTED TESTIMONIES!!!! Wherein the frauds Fakes And phonies Art thy t.v magnate stars!!!!!
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Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC
Abstract expressionism
Do we notice the finer things in life? The husband's and wives, children that's been conceived! Thou and they are all thou needeth when thy roof springs its leak! Sick Wearied Weak? Looking in all the wrong places? Itinerant in the stagnative imagination's For don't even the mammals haveth a place to stay? Like the son of man I haveth no chapel For this head to consecretly layeth!!! Dog nights seem more teething!!!! Vestige of all beauty You've left that still life post, Wherein thy mantra's I seeketh the most!!! The I loveth thou's And thou more.... Deluge of happiness Covereth me Bury me In atmospheric condition, Oh man didst thou not mention? The plaques to ***** it's protract sorrow!!!! Hath society made materialism And the dollar sign Their romantic gesture? A pity to God And me!!!! Mobs of fleas To calleth what they maketh MANIFESTED TESTIMONIES!!!! Wherein the frauds Fakes And phonies Art thy t.v magnate stars!!!!! ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry
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Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 5:33 PM UTC
Abstract expressionism
*He is My Azure Dreambird, (The Sovereign of Songbirds) That soars upon Skies of Resonance. His sapphire wings Weightless by valor, Hallowed every doubt That Cursed my shadow Until credence reigned. He is The Musicality of my Soul, That I climbed as A stairway Into Gates of Aether Upon Porcelain keys Of an impearled Grand Piano. His sound emittance Ascended in frequency until Pitch became subliminal For height ceased to be Height, And depth, Ceased to be Depth, It was Ineffable harmony And resolution became effortless With The touch of his hand. He is The Wings of the Dawn, A Sweeping Rapture That raised Me Beyond the stratosphere Until graced by Untarnished embrace Of the Baptistery of the Sun. I burst From Light’s Intemerate Womb, Renewed and Gazed upon Terraqueous Gaia Then for once, (Yes, for all eternity) Succumbed to Faith in the Transcendence Of his tender affections. Woe was existence Before His lightwaves radiated Within my heart, For when I purged my pulse Of that quaking rhythm And Hollow cries Upon his ears, He stood moved And remained Doughty in his devotion To me. In that moment I fathomed his soul Glistened O, for he had not forsook me. I bear a pilgrimage. One sought to be Heard, Seen, Felt, Breathed, And Divined By my Once Somnolent spirit Been Roused By the incendiary thew of His ardor. My revenant soul Hath emerged from The Chrysalis of Time as The Apotheosis of Astral Flame (A Reverberation of the Cosmo-Plexus of Love) That since The Days of Time Immemorial Guided by the Whisper of the stars, I now cleave To that celestial susurrus: To the solace buried beneath The Soil of Afflicition (For anguish was all I knew) In repose Yet yearning to be Resurrected In The Dream of Acquisition, To for eternity behold The timeless fervor That doth layeth In His heart*
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Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 11:52 AM UTC
The Apotheosis of Astral Flame (Originally Written on August 18th, 2016)
*He is My Azure Dreambird, (The Sovereign of Songbirds) That soars upon Skies of Resonance. His sapphire wings Weightless by valor, Hallowed every doubt That Cursed my shadow Until credence reigned. He is The Musicality of my Soul, That I climbed as A stairway Into Gates of Aether Upon Porcelain keys Of an impearled Grand Piano. His sound emittance Ascended in frequency until Pitch became subliminal For height ceased to be Height, And depth, Ceased to be Depth, It was Ineffable harmony And resolution became effortless With The touch of his hand. He is The Wings of the Dawn, A Sweeping Rapture That raised Me Beyond the stratosphere Until graced by Untarnished embrace Of the Baptistery of the Sun. I burst From Light’s Intemerate Womb, Renewed and Gazed upon Terraqueous Gaia Then for once, (Yes, for all eternity) Succumbed to Faith in the Transcendence Of his tender affections. Woe was existence Before His lightwaves radiated Within my heart, For when I purged my pulse Of that quaking rhythm And Hollow cries Upon his ears, He stood moved And remained Doughty in his devotion To me. In that moment I fathomed his soul Glistened O, for he had not forsook me. I bear a pilgrimage. One sought to be Heard, Seen, Felt, Breathed, And Divined By my Once Somnolent spirit Been Roused By the incendiary thew of His ardor. My revenant soul Hath emerged from The Chrysalis of Time as The Apotheosis of Astral Flame (A Reverberation of the Cosmo-Plexus of Love) That since The Days of Time Immemorial Guided by the Whisper of the stars, I now cleave To that celestial susurrus: To the solace buried beneath The Soil of Afflicition (For anguish was all I knew) In repose Yet yearning to be Resurrected In The Dream of Acquisition, To for eternity behold The timeless fervor That doth layeth In His heart*
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She writeth mellifluous calligraphy When she speaketh in her mother tongue; She's ineffable, irresistible, Tis, she's mine chosen one.                                                 Her kaleidoscopic ambience pirouettes around mine being, heaven's own, the most beautiful soul; O' how I'm blessed with this queen. Supine I layeth, looking aloft mine glimpse, a brightness flashed, in Asian sash, turtle shell's around her hips. At that moment, I hadst an epiphany, I was finally living, to God I owed thanksgiving, for this archangel he hadst sent to me. ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedication
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Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 9:43 PM UTC
Leagan faoi Supine , ar epiphany an Dhiaga ( Laying Supine, an epiphany of the divine) old irish tongue
For whilst I layeth down And closeth mine ancient lid's.... I just wish mine amour' was here To shelter me with her body, To cuddle me with her kiss.... Goodnight HP family (;
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Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 12:29 AM UTC
goodnight with a cuddling thought
Those who cross, this nighttime terror, will be sure to know his name, From ocean blue, to Timbuktu, the ghost of the man is to blame. He rides upon, a howling steed, he sets women's hearts aflame, He will dismount, only to pay no heed, to the life, the gods call, 'game'. Beware, oh Bandit, do not pierce, the eyes of the open believer, For what you have seen, on the journey of one, has made thy soul, cleaver. Hated still, the tainted will, of the man who rides, in the palm of despair, Points his fingers to the sky, in faith, that the heel of truth will be there. The bandit will leave less on hands and feet, when he comes through, Yet, he will leave more than tears, when with your ****** he must make do. So true is his arrow, nailing to the tree, the reigns which he has overcome, Out of sight, he is a patriot to the desires of his heart, serving no one, but one. Where will you go next, bandit, what treasures will you next seize? What of the riches in your heart, crucified by forgotten responsibilities? He searches, this bandit, for the one elusive key to his caged soul, As if it were on race ahead of himself, always out of reach or toll. Aghast! He halts in treasure cove, at odds with the sight before him. What layeth on the ground, is a sight that attempts no boredom. Here! Is a sight for eager eyes, here! Is the quencher for desire. That which is in front of him, will extinguish his mind's wild fire. One foot, in front of the other. As if he had no longer the ability to walk. Made the bandit, his way over. To the treasure that made him gawk. It lay in fragile casing. It had a lustrous stare. Even though it was alluring, it should have made the bandit beware. But, oh! He was too hasty. For the jewel, evidently tasty, Incited him to grasp it firmly, like a gluttonous man upon pastry. What was it, in the cave? The treasure that could powerfully ensnare? Oh child, I cannot tell you, for fear, that you will go there.
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Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 1:12 PM UTC
The Bandit...
Those who cross, this nighttime terror, will be sure to know his name, From ocean blue, to Timbuktu, the ghost of the man is to blame. He rides upon, a howling steed, he sets women's hearts aflame, He will dismount, only to pay no heed, to the life, the gods call, 'game'. Beware, oh Bandit, do not pierce, the eyes of the open believer, For what you have seen, on the journey of one, has made thy soul, cleaver. Hated still, the tainted will, of the man who rides, in the palm of despair, Points his fingers to the sky, in faith, that the heel of truth will be there. The bandit will leave less on hands and feet, when he comes through, Yet, he will leave more than tears, when with your ****** he must make do. So true is his arrow, nailing to the tree, the reigns which he has overcome, Out of sight, he is a patriot to the desires of his heart, serving no one, but one. Where will you go next, bandit, what treasures will you next seize? What of the riches in your heart, crucified by forgotten responsibilities? He searches, this bandit, for the one elusive key to his caged soul, As if it were on race ahead of himself, always out of reach or toll. Aghast! He halts in treasure cove, at odds with the sight before him. What layeth on the ground, is a sight that attempts no boredom. Here! Is a sight for eager eyes, here! Is the quencher for desire. That which is in front of him, will extinguish his mind's wild fire. One foot, in front of the other. As if he had no longer the ability to walk. Made the bandit, his way over. To the treasure that made him gawk. It lay in fragile casing. It had a lustrous stare. Even though it was alluring, it should have made the bandit beware. But, oh! He was too hasty. For the jewel, evidently tasty, Incited him to grasp it firmly, like a gluttonous man upon pastry. What was it, in the cave? The treasure that could powerfully ensnare? Oh child, I cannot tell you, for fear, that you will go there.
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Agápi mou, how I dote thee mine baby of potentate vision's; thou art the foregone one of stringed song's, that young lover's seeketh To hath. Atop the thysiastery of Ourn affection, I shalt layeth Ourn all mine amour, near The pearly gates, I'll meet Thee at the door. The entry- Way wherein only select few Shalt pass, the liquid water there hath Life, none hopelessness nor any bad; just garden's of Succulent features, history's apostles there to be ourn new Teachers, wherein the pictures art surreal, what's thine is mine, and what's mine is thine; feeling paradise complete us in lively field's. ©Brandon Nagley ©lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl jane sardua Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou) dedicated
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May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 10:25 PM UTC
Mullach an thysiastery ( Atop the thysiastery) scottish gaelic tongue
i sacchariferous exhale's, I shalt insufflate into her bronchi An Ode of enchantment, a beacon of escarpment, Filipino oblige; We shalt junket all the way to France, the way politician's do Concord, oh amour', at the end of the day Cogitation's, sky blue. ii The artist's shalt adumbrate ourn outter appearance's, as ghost's They shalt brush us onto an primeval canvas, Enlargement **** Phosphorescent simper she giveth, as I grace her foreign perfume Thither the acropolis, to mine land of Greece, Corinth, in all tune. iii The people their do greeteth her, they layeth out the red carpet White wall's of these spítia, nacre full of plenty, open market's; The children here art collaborated in epoch, decorative style's, As mine queen shalt seeith, they weareth golden leaves, wild...... ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl Jane dedication/ pag-ibig magpakailanman.....
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Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 10:26 PM UTC
Στη γη της Κορίνθου ( In the land of Corinth) greek tongue
Thou art th' love, that danceth through my veins Thou art th' charm, that befriendeth my dreams Thou art th' heart, that consoleth my pains- 'midst those torrents of greedy stains and those wakeful, shattering rains. Thou art th' walls, that bear my soul The wondrous cells-within my arms, legs, and lungs. Thou art th' bushes of my nature; thy redness dark, but plain and pure! Thou art th' gusts to my river; that layeth awake in its daydreaming. Thou releaseth it from its wan longing! By thy fast speed, like a bird's wing! Thou blusheth my cheeks and giveth me warmth; but thou turneth mad at every harm! Yet as I healeth thy bruise is gone; thou greeteth my clouds, and praiseth my sun. Thou art th' gold sands, to my pearls- which free 'em from any hassles! Thou bringst me strength in my rambles- in my green lake, thou'rt brown ripples! Thou remindeth me in solemn peace- that lips areth for a sincere kiss! Thou blest my life and happiness- thou feedeth friendship and forgiveness! Thou burst violent at my temper- and sink my foul into disgrace! In thy mind love is sweet laughter- with no floods of cry or blighting haze. Thou cheereth my joy and lifteth it up, thou keepeth flowing and never stopeth! Thou relieveth me on thy blessed shore-and aye! Thou endeth my drought like no-'ne before.
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Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC
Blood
Tonight is the night, be it All Hallows' Eve One filled with fright most refuse to believe, For deep amongst the shadows, silently lurking, 'Tis a terrifying creature, his jagged teeth smirking. Thou hast all heard of demons, and hast battled thine ghouls Whilst this terrible beast watcheth with hunger and drools. It's spittle, like acid, can burn through thine flesh Making thee so much easier to digest. No name shalt be found for a creature so foul That gobbles up goblins, and ogres disembowels. Dost thou think that thine lanterns shall frighten it hence? Oh foolish man, it shall consume the light thence. It standeth hunched over, twelve feet in height; Stalking thou, watching thou, waiting for night. It cometh from deep within the forest, as the moon wanes His fur smelleth of death, his claws favouring pain. He shan't be stopped ere his hunt is over Yet he only hunts the thirty-first of October Take ye heed, then, and hear the warning of the raven For this beast is coming, and from him there is but one haven. He preyeth upon the weakest, and the one full of fear So stand fast, take courage and in another likeness appear Put on a mask, as treacherous as can be Conceal what layeth within, do not let him see Or else you shall be taken, beaten and devoured For this beast prefers to torture just to see thee cower. So please, take heed to this warning and believe; Thou art only safe if thee wearest a mask on All Hallows' Eve. 11/3/16
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Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 12:13 AM UTC
All Hallows' Eve
ii. Sampaguitas to fragrance her mane She whispereth sir Brandon; Mine husband Mine king. ii. I layeth down the counterpane frankincense and myrrh aligned; Tea candles surrounding ourn jungle Of a bedspread romantic design. iii. Tis we loseth, track of all time She sloweth her breathing, I singeth for her, she smiles and sayeth it's pleasing; ourn heart's steadily yet quickly beating, as if we were drunkened off of lover's delight divine. ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl jane nagley dedication ( Filipino rose )
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Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 4:06 PM UTC
Sampaguitas to fragrance her mane
Verily, verily, I wilt thole the strenuous measure Without thee in mine Reach. Thine countenance do I seek in Sainthood luster;                                      O' how I needeth thee mine                                          beloved of cherubic power,                  Tis the moonlight hour's I dieth to layeth mine brow Upon thine own. Sweat cover's me, I needeth mine Abode, for thou art mine home; In which I hath sought after Since afore the age of Noah.                                                          O' how this locution screameth out loud to the crowd's of emptied lonesome-hearted mad Men. Mine darling, àgapi mou, best friend. Tis not the end- Only the beginning.                        I glance keenly dearest jane- Into meadow's wherein the pool's of life art made for one man And his wife, as godly intended;                                                          Foregone art the soul's that shalt                                         wait ourn arrival, they've been waiting endlessly to enter us inside. O' Queen Jane, Filipino treasure of mine; O' how we shalt dine and feast amongst the golden pathway's and see-through streets, bare **** feet to lead ourn spiritual direction, ourn agápi reflecting Yahweh's glow in three- Dimensional complexion. One day to be as babes, Unchained, not slaves to menfolk's rule- A place wherein one enters by the amount of love they've given And hath shown, a kingdom                                                    Wherein we shalt be renewed.      ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poets poetry ©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou) dedicated
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Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 9:24 PM UTC
Matiés stin pisína tis zoís( Glancing into the pool's of life) greek tongue
Verily, verily, I wilt thole the strenuous measure Without thee in mine Reach. Thine countenance do I seek in Sainthood luster;                                      O' how I needeth thee mine                                          beloved of cherubic power,                  Tis the moonlight hour's I dieth to layeth mine brow Upon thine own. Sweat cover's me, I needeth mine Abode, for thou art mine home; In which I hath sought after Since afore the age of Noah.                                                          O' how this locution screameth out loud to the crowd's of emptied lonesome-hearted mad Men. Mine darling, àgapi mou, best friend. Tis not the end- Only the beginning.                        I glance keenly dearest jane- Into meadow's wherein the pool's of life art made for one man And his wife, as godly intended;                                                          Foregone art the soul's that shalt                                         wait ourn arrival, they've been waiting endlessly to enter us inside. O' Queen Jane, Filipino treasure of mine; O' how we shalt dine and feast amongst the golden pathway's and see-through streets, bare **** feet to lead ourn spiritual direction, ourn agápi reflecting Yahweh's glow in three- Dimensional complexion. One day to be as babes, Unchained, not slaves to menfolk's rule- A place wherein one enters by the amount of love they've given And hath shown, a kingdom                                                    Wherein we shalt be renewed.      ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poets poetry ©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou) dedicated
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Queen in crystalline A king in black, Taking a mansion Or sleeping in shack's, Loot doesn't matter In their humbled abode, Dressed to impress Eachother **** with none clothes, The world doesn't exist to them O glorious light, They maketh love to the moon And the sun awaketh their sight's, They flyeth to Neverland Up aloft the blue orb, A child of a boy An adolescent girl, Shaker's and tambourine's Piano for sound, They waltz in the bare With their feet in the cloud's, Their amour' bounces The cosmic wave, Unbound to the celestial Freakish romantic's in a cave, Isolated from the new age stress She layeth her head on his stomach, her hand on his chest, All the best, though tis a dream all to me Laying here alone; none ancient queen.... ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry
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Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
Queen of crystalline, king in black
My son, if thou wilt receive my words, and hide my commandments with thee: 2 So that thou incline thine ear unto wisdom, and apply thine heart to understanding; 3 Yea, if thou criest after knowledge, and liftest up thy voice for understanding; 4 If thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her as for hid treasures; 5 Then shalt thou understand the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge of God. 6 For the Lord giveth wisdom: out of his mouth cometh knowledge and understanding. 7 He layeth up sound wisdom for the righteous: he is a buckler to them that walk uprightly. 8 He keepeth the paths of judgment, and preserveth the way of his saints. 9 Then shalt thou understand righteousness, and judgment, and equity; yea, every good path. 10 When wisdom entereth into thine heart, and knowledge is pleasant unto thy soul; 11 Discretion shall preserve thee, understanding shall keep thee: 12 To deliver thee from the way of the evil man, from the man that speaketh froward things; 13 Who leave the paths of uprightness to walk in the ways of darkness; 14 Who rejoice to do evil, and delight in the frowardness of the wicked; 15 Whose ways are crooked, and they froward in their paths: 16 To deliver thee from the strange woman, even from the stranger which flattereth with her words; 17 Which forsaketh the guide of her youth, and forgetteth the covenant of her God. 18 For her house inclineth unto death, and her paths unto the dead. 19 None that go onto her return again, neither take they hold of the paths of life. 20 That thou mayest walk in the way of good men, and keep the paths of the righteous. 21 For the upright shall dwell in the land, and the perfect shall remain in it. 22 But the wicked shall be cut off from the earth, and the transgressors shall be rooted out of it.
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Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC
Proverbs 2
My son, if thou wilt receive my words, and hide my commandments with thee: 2 So that thou incline thine ear unto wisdom, and apply thine heart to understanding; 3 Yea, if thou criest after knowledge, and liftest up thy voice for understanding; 4 If thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her as for hid treasures; 5 Then shalt thou understand the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge of God. 6 For the Lord giveth wisdom: out of his mouth cometh knowledge and understanding. 7 He layeth up sound wisdom for the righteous: he is a buckler to them that walk uprightly. 8 He keepeth the paths of judgment, and preserveth the way of his saints. 9 Then shalt thou understand righteousness, and judgment, and equity; yea, every good path. 10 When wisdom entereth into thine heart, and knowledge is pleasant unto thy soul; 11 Discretion shall preserve thee, understanding shall keep thee: 12 To deliver thee from the way of the evil man, from the man that speaketh froward things; 13 Who leave the paths of uprightness to walk in the ways of darkness; 14 Who rejoice to do evil, and delight in the frowardness of the wicked; 15 Whose ways are crooked, and they froward in their paths: 16 To deliver thee from the strange woman, even from the stranger which flattereth with her words; 17 Which forsaketh the guide of her youth, and forgetteth the covenant of her God. 18 For her house inclineth unto death, and her paths unto the dead. 19 None that go onto her return again, neither take they hold of the paths of life. 20 That thou mayest walk in the way of good men, and keep the paths of the righteous. 21 For the upright shall dwell in the land, and the perfect shall remain in it. 22 But the wicked shall be cut off from the earth, and the transgressors shall be rooted out of it.
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Stood lonesome beneath the old floodlight Sweetest embrace, the Gods shone down Forging great dramas in steel slabs and returning home with a picture of Hollywood I, sad-eyed fool, asked after you, and heard nothing Though, in Benzedrine dreams I was gifted your scent and awoke to the stench of ********** ***** and the powder dissolved Ah, I have heard your voice Yet you ignore mine The great whale twisted in the alley, with biceps bulging and tussling with hoodlums we were sent packing, Awaiting us were the sterile walls of some grande hospital Lined with officers, their pads and pens at the ready Beds spinning, squinting under neon, docile and confused Bars and bars, from one t' other, flicking roaches into the gutter as we went and howling at the harlots stood 'neath street lights, flickering Poisoned in body, poisoned in mind, the spirit on it's way Brick lanes and paddy wagons, urchins and knock-a-door run The unshaven dealers, passing poor product to the children and they, still in uniform, bleary eyed, satchels and sandwiches We, tied, cuffed, stranded and free Flags! The flags were a sight, satirical and stupefying Patriotism always made me chuckle, it being so absurd Yet her majesty still reigns supreme, have we no shame? Oh justifiable mockery, tainted our streets, the names we know How can one free one's country if one is but one person, and how could one simultaneous be one million? But even here in this mournful cell that layeth ten feet below, I am free, I may not know it yet, but I am...
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Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 6:37 PM UTC
What it Means to Exist
Stood lonesome beneath the old floodlight Sweetest embrace, the Gods shone down Forging great dramas in steel slabs and returning home with a picture of Hollywood I, sad-eyed fool, asked after you, and heard nothing Though, in Benzedrine dreams I was gifted your scent and awoke to the stench of ********** ***** and the powder dissolved Ah, I have heard your voice Yet you ignore mine The great whale twisted in the alley, with biceps bulging and tussling with hoodlums we were sent packing, Awaiting us were the sterile walls of some grande hospital Lined with officers, their pads and pens at the ready Beds spinning, squinting under neon, docile and confused Bars and bars, from one t' other, flicking roaches into the gutter as we went and howling at the harlots stood 'neath street lights, flickering Poisoned in body, poisoned in mind, the spirit on it's way Brick lanes and paddy wagons, urchins and knock-a-door run The unshaven dealers, passing poor product to the children and they, still in uniform, bleary eyed, satchels and sandwiches We, tied, cuffed, stranded and free Flags! The flags were a sight, satirical and stupefying Patriotism always made me chuckle, it being so absurd Yet her majesty still reigns supreme, have we no shame? Oh justifiable mockery, tainted our streets, the names we know How can one free one's country if one is but one person, and how could one simultaneous be one million? But even here in this mournful cell that layeth ten feet below, I am free, I may not know it yet, but I am...
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Of no time and place... save for due Truest North of no time and place...a kindled air as such...never a Draconian night layeth upon...O Hyperborea. Muse of Muse...whose tacit glory begot lip and lyre...illumined wholes that sayeth verily unto illumined wholes. Unbroken gaiety...where the only obscuration's the recesses of witnesses in full bearing...Beauty's Knowing...Knowable Beauty. O Hyperborea...as light, lighteth... yet lit be not--high heaped upon high, celebrants of whir and fire... fire and whir...whir and fire! Thou danceth a sun's one-upmanship, to emblazon the dreams of Thracian peoples. That the world may know, and know well...the north wind...of no time and place--due Truest North of no time and place...be kindled by Apollonian graces. As an urn contains what's trialed by fire, as fire...Beauty unbridled...poureth forth under the Hyperborean sun... never to casteth a shadow.
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Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 1:01 PM UTC
Hyperborea
Your deep seated treasure trove of words on love layeth at the throne and is sealed in a crystal case, meant to be broken in case there is an a famish in the kingdoms, an unquenching, an unending, an unfading hunger for love. The haybarn of mild prosperity. It transitions with frequencies ranging from the cosmic dimesions of the galaxies to the unforgiving, mauve depths of the ocean. It resonates with my ambivalent soul, at an existential level as thy velveteen buds are of my photvoltaic stem.
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Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 10:44 PM UTC
A Letter to my Poet//Skipping Stones.
Commence thy latency...do not guard thy straits. Of old and older days, slept lightning layeth upon thee. Unrehearsed homage, to what's unkempt of the preternatural. Commence thy latency...do not guard thy straits. The toppled onyx monument of sky layeth above thee...uninscribed save for flow of clouds.
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Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 9:55 PM UTC
Commence Thy Latency
i. O' mine filipino beloved. How mine heart aches, and these bones shaketh without thine essense of interweb hug's; Mine tear's, there hath been plenty.Without the sound of thy voice, mine ears hast been itchy. ii. When I layeth down to slumber mine dear. Just knoweth i cut and print out thy picture's- plastered them to mine wall, to feeleth thou were near; For if it takes a whilst to seeith thee again mine pet, Please knoweth again we shalt be one abode, an amour' we shant forget. ©Brandon nagley ©Earl Jane nagley dedication ~filipino rose~
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Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 1:33 PM UTC
Thy pictures on mine wall to feeleth close
O' to thee this heart belongeth, to thee I layeth down all; exposed, unclothed, in spiritual configuration I'm raw. O' tis with thee I standeth tall, in sainthood hall's, erstwhile ripped and mauled; now reincarnated by thine enchanting call. I'm glorified, in thy eye's I taketh a dive; and splash. Inside thine dusky vision's I've found riches, wealth, a stash. A hideaway, wherein I'm faraway on cumuli of better day's, wherein ourn bodies sway, until were old and gray, and we reawake into eternal life. Husband and wife, to where all is right, and we art protected in the almighty author's finger's. A poetess Reyna as thee, and me as thine poet, and singer. Amour' bringer's, jotting dimple's as minstrel's atop holy church steeple's. Welcomed in by conglomerate people's; as we hold eachother's hand's, locking finger's to starlit showers. Tis we hold the key's to intimate and infinite hour's. We passeth the time by rhyme's of divine flower's that canst shimmer on a dime's notice. Unbound as a lotus; opening up ourn feather's. ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose ) dedication
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Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC
Unbound as a Lotus
In subjection To her deepest requests In subjection I layeth down mine best In subjection Yet whilst courting her mine A clock that canst stop An amour' of world end time Ourn wings shalt fly Make a bunker on the moon Lay a blanket at ourn quarry The snakes to weave on through Silhouettes of ourn Shadow's Making love is wild radiance Forgetting of all the others As for eachother in all remberance Experts of vie passée cognition A bonheur never known to man A peaceful sanctuary A sacré dynasty inconnu to new edge ère Blackened dusked perfume I shalt goût to her mascara Espagnes miroir to give me what I need For me to seeith mineself, As for her to seeith I am her She is me!!!
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Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 10:34 AM UTC
assujettissement à mi amour ( subjection to mi amour') french tongue