"livings" poems
I often wonder what it's like,
To have a led a very different life,
Where camera flashes
And fans gate crashing concerts
Are really rather normal;
A life where sword throwing
And fire eating
Is how you earn your livings;
A journey where you are enrolled in other lives
And act a million more;
A destination, a goal, a life,
Where it isn't just plain old me.
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC
Hey I am dying
Because I am still living
I have this privilege
One of many livings
Still believing
that there is happiness
Not disguised sadness
In every part of life.
Still not dying breed
But there is flood of greed
Increasing with great speed
Last second swimming
I go in on the tenth
Drowning this moment
I am breathing
The end of air.
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 12:43 PM UTC
Its seems that where ever i go people are fooling eachother
Its like we all live in a big illusions
controlled by science media and religion
And everyone is misstreating one another
Multinational companies getting richer every second funding the world's wars death and hunger
It really seems like that nobody cares about what we( all livings , planet) need
They only care about personal needs
Money is destroying everything
Its the reason behind all the bad things
Sure it could be great sometimes
WRONG!!!
Thats what they only want you to think about
Money, buying, selling,
it doesnt matter
The economy is a big lie
Fabricated to keep us enslaved, limited and entertained.
In a way that we never reach our potentiel
Its seems that the world i've been taught about is FAKE
So i plan to run away
Living FREE
Running away from CONCPIRACIES
Words Of Harfouchism
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 1:13 PM UTC
Feeling blue today
The truest blue and slew of good wishes
And feelings
And moods.
All is clear in my field of view.
Better than borrowed
I feel new.
It’s true
I’m blue.
She’s livid
A shiver of silver
Livings and fear of what mother will say
When she see slivers of shining silver
Shattered on solid floor.
She’s shaking
Scraping silver slivers
Into shaking, sweaty
Palms.
A rotund belly
Yellow sash orbiting
A loud yellow suit standing outside
A back door bordello.
A cello’s titillating echo
Feeling mellow
Look at that swinging yellow Othello
What a fellow
Those midnight secrets he’ll never tell, no.
He is orange
And no one much cares to rhyme about him
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 8:29 PM UTC
I am off again.
Off to enjoy the dead livings
of old civilization.
If you wish
you will find me in the woods
up to my neck in mud and sweat:
smiling.
I will pan for gold
at the banks of untouched river runs
and the bottom of gushing waterfalls.
I will hunt
beautiful beasts
with black coats and empty bellies from a winters sleep.
I'll sit huddled around fire
that dances in an iron bellied stove
warming my hands and drying my rain soaked feet.
I have no wish to leave this kind of life.
I will return with heart uplifted by accomplishment
and my hands covered in scars.
I will have made my mark on the land
the hawks circling above for the creatures smoked out by the fire in my lungs.
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 3:12 AM UTC
O' amour
How radiant thy petal's art;
O' galore,
For what's in store
Shalt be noble
In novel art's.
Statues to tower
The children we
Create; none minutes
Nor hours, an empyrean
Place, a tribal face times two.
Restored, renewed. Amour' tis
True. Gushing water's of life-ever-
Lasting....
The ripples art ourn soul's, exploding
Chalices of old, expertise is awe-striking
In the deathly livings over-passing.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedication
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
I need a vacation.
Maybe a trip to Italy.
I gotta revitalize.
Maybe, Pompeii.
I am feeling starved of my vim and vigor.
My words are lukewarm.
There is only one option:
rekindling my virility.
I could vivify myself vicariously:
the sensuality of the city's verve,
all the daily livings of people,
venerated in an intense blaze;
might make me vivacious again.
Input daily routine.
Output socially valued norms.
My vivid, vermillion passion
has been layered with ashes.
I am desperate for veracity.
Did my igneous, poetic life temper
to an obsidian verse?
The beat in my heart
has felt industrialized,
monotonous,
a steady assembly line of chaste gray;
a vexing variance of my vitals.
Revive me: my virtuosity
will ventilate me with
venereal voraciousness.
What is left to me,
a choice of perspective:
a plunge in to the devouring,
a dive in to the radiant;
both, a swim through a viscous sea of wildfire
in Mount Vesuvius.
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 5:45 PM UTC
death is
just
cold.
not the fading memories
leaching, lost, into the soil,
and warped as jaded speech
woven through the livings tales.
death is seclusion from the sun,
to stall, to stop, to lose ones way,
forever left at last breaths point,
as time continues on its way.
a coldness deep, to lock in place,
persona lost, caricature replaced.
unknowing darkness keeps
the new unknown,
as coldness claims
the final home.
(for Kiwi - 06/08/2009)
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
*Behind a curtain
Blind to the eye
To this I am certain
The Dead Land resides
Watch with my soul
I seek thee
I stare into the scrying bowl
I see thee
Crying these diamond tears
Screaming your name
It falls to deaf ears
Darkness you remain
Knocking on the livings door
You want to be known
Your heart beat, no more
Like a bad call through a phone
You're fading in and out of life
The light no where to be seen
Shadows impale your being like a knife
And you're silent as you scream*
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 2:50 PM UTC
Say there’s a boy that has two dreams,
One concerns business, one fishing in streams;
But which is the more real my friend?
A wolf licked an Eskimo’s blood-covered knife,
Licked it till it cut-up and bled out its life;
But are wolves’ impulses wrong my friend?
I saw a terrible play with a terrible end
And horrid lines no writer could mend;
But do you think I missed the point my friend?
Upon a time a boy loved a girl,
Loved her like a casket locked upon a pearl;
But what is truest love my friend?
Someone opened a door and let a dog in,
Unaware of where most strays have been;
But what is real kindness my friend?
One hundred slaves wept at their fortune,
United, killed the tyrant, and began to run;
But don’t they still work for their livings my friend?
I found a pocket watch in a patch of tall grass,
Hoped selfishly, watched centuries pass;
But weren't we told time heals wounds my friend?
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 1:53 PM UTC
People of color
Aren't we all Humans
Who are striving To do better
Who are harmless
Aren't we all Innocent
who are livings for there ever after
Aren't we all believers
Who are excited to bring newborns
In this WORLD
A World?
A world that is full of violence
A world that is so beautiful
Yet corrupted
In every way
In every direction.
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 8:34 PM UTC
Dear Grandma and Grandpa,
How's the Earth looking from up there?
I bet you wouldn't even bother about the livings anymore,
I bet you couldn't wait for the Heaven; the eternity
Dear Grandma and Grandpa,
Forgive me,
For every time I see a butterfly perched on my window I always thought that was you missing me
Forgive me,
For every time I see a cat around the backyard I always thought that was you visiting and checking up on me
Dear Grandma and Grandpa,
Now I'm at peace, realizing that you are free from any physical pains;
As you are no longer burdened by your glaucoma or sudden heart attack
As your fragile skins won't have to be bruised when you coincidentally knocked on the table
As you won't have to feel headache each time you're overwhelmed by the thoughts of your family
Dear Grandma and Grandpa,
Still, it doesn't feel right for my brain to comprehend that
My childrens won't ever get to hear the warmth of your voices;
Tasting the overburnt eggs and noodles you used to make;
Watching your favorite old movies in the afternoon;
Playing with the wrinkles on your hands;
or making fun of your white hair
Dear Grandma and Grandpa,
I know you will never know about this
But I'm down on my knees
Silently pray inbetween the night and the dawn;
So that the angels will not be too harsh on you
In hereafter
Nov 1, 2020
Nov 1, 2020 at 7:57 PM UTC
i
As the wartorn baby lied down on the middle eastern battlefield,
The tanks rolled in, the bombs struck heavy, as poured out sin,
It seemed for the young girl no living was as this was to be dreamt, her night-mares becameth real, her spirit of her hath left
ii
The sunshine was eclipsed, as the sarin and mustard gas blimped
The grenade's made servant's, out of the gentle and innocent,
And hatred was spread between the lies, of the media outlet's channel, terrorist rolled their eyes, as burn's smoked the flannels
iii
These brute's woreth green in verdant camouflage grass anger
Were friends before their war, now rebirthed as killing strangers
Yet there was one soldier who put down her exploding bomb's
An saidst "I want war none more" , as was a girl of holy god
iv
She screamed to her lung's, (" canst thou all seeith this is of the devil? I am not one to **** mine brother! I am a messenger of the celestial levels") as the death bringer's heard this, their eye's began to run, they've forgotten of their lovers, and their own love
v
As this girl who was a terrorist, not by her own hand was given
Remembered she was forced, by the men of evil torture and livings, Though she abandoned the war, the evil man hath put upon her, her soul overcameth, with God in the those wartorn flames, for that girl remembered at that moment, she being gods daughter.....
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 5:19 PM UTC
If you've had a drink
If ya had a few
Or if you had to think of what ya knew
It's on the brink
Tounges of youth
Indistinct
Tons of truth
Oh where the wayward go
If I had to guess
What would it be
If I had it dressed
in nothing to see
It's on the desk
Naked physically
Caressed tears form
Each one a nominee
Oh where the wayward go
If I found my ships lost
Where do i invest my lumber
The goods have been tossed
Livings the new plunder
I belong to this boss
Calling out my new number
Tithe to the cross
Counting sheep for an exponential slumber
Oh where the wayward go
If I heard your song
If it made me cry
Would the captain be strong
Would you know why
The best & worst wrongs
May deserve to die
But the rest of this route's long
We deserve better inside
Oh where the wayward go
If every page turned
Another plot thickens
False casting endures
Another old man fishin'
Into the depth of the pure
A well of wealth made for wishin
New babies insure
An old one is sickened
Oh where the wayward go
Where one dreams it will
But desires to never know
Happenstance will
Have it's dance
You will have your horse
You will have your show
You will have a friend
You will have an end
Please understand
The wayward just want to know home
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 4:37 PM UTC
Smoking a cigarette, she slowly opens her eyes. I wish not to see, if here's what it must be presented to me. The bathroom is steamy and warm, but the water is running cold in the hot tub. She doesn't remember how long she has been here, she doesn't remember what had happened before, she doesn't remember to remember. As she murmurs to herself -
I hate God.
The wonder of life could be faded so easily, *the
scent of her skin, the touch of her smile*, the loss of
one family's forever beloved, our family.
A daughter, a sister, a piece of out heart.
It's what you live on, you know, *mother can't stop
crying*, the agony, the emptiness, father hardly speaks,
life goes on, I still feel her, after she's gone.
A tragedy, a mistake, a hole in our soul.
No, it has nothing to do with bad luck, it's just death,
you know. She stops breathing, her body gives in, and she
watches herself leaving the room, the world -
as she's sailing to the other side of her eternity.
It all began with a piece of bread, *she never lates for
school*, a beautiful morning, and the radio was playing,
we never heard her, she loves music.
**** this, now what about the livings*?
Now, what about the livings? We moved, *not necessary
delightfully*, from the home of our heart. It would be easier
for mom and dad anyway, I've never meant to leave.
"Don't be afraid, be free, you're now our only."
I was sent away, along with a part of my sister, *who was
supposed to be a part of me too*, and started a new life.
That's how they call it anyway, it's really cold -
in this side of the country, this side of my life.
It doesn't bother me a bit, I wouldn't let it, I have my way
to remember my sister. I've talked her back to life, *she's just as real
as she used to be*, in school, at home, anywhere.
In life, in death, in the coldness and the stillness.
Look, it's snowing! Yet my heart has never been so warm, maybe, *I
pray*, we can seek back our happiness after all. Maybe it has never
left, just like Martha, as I am watching my parents skating through
the ice, and remembering -
She's gone, but not forgotten, she's only one breath away.
Dec 10, 2010
Dec 10, 2010 at 5:12 PM UTC
My friend,
When you were born,
Life cast you into this dream
While giving to you love
To remind you of waking Reality.
As surely as I love you now
And sit beside your final bed,
Not soon to sleep, but soon you´ll awaken
From the dream from which Destiny calls.
Ahead of you Death has always walked
Showing you your fated path
And giving love in those precious moments
When the dreamer dared to lift his eyes.
In death your truth foreve finds you
When love reaches its Eternal Source
As the Reality with which it soon will meld
In the harmony of one´s mortal end.
The love we felt for you in life
Has touched us all beyond its close
Leaving memories in the livings' minds
And something deeper that we sometimes find:
In future moments of conscious grace
When Present's joy meets open hearts
We will be following You through love
More strongly than any memory.
If our recollections of you fade
-Though for me they never will-
Take comfort in your destination
That calls you clearly even now.
This solace I now try to hold:
Trapped in memories of your love
Which soon will leave this mortal plane
And leave me sitting here without you.
Your impending absence brings a rift
That keeps me from the words I preach
And casts me from God's loving arms
Into the abyss of this black dream.
These tears that I shed for you now
Fall on unforgiving floors
And force me to the recognition
That more than ever I feel alone.
Dec 14, 2011
Dec 14, 2011 at 10:19 AM UTC
I've always had complicated Thoughts
Side by side they fight and against one another they fought.
Fifth graders shouldn't be ready to die.
No one should hate them self.
Ready to torture and degrade their self.
I knew I needed help.
Yet.
No courage was there, my courage was theirs.
To do what they want and say how ever they wish.
Loneliness was bliss.
Yet
I wanted to fit.
I always wanted to belong and get along and sing a song about how joyful life was.
Well life wasn't well and I couldn't even get along with my family so I never belong.
Yet
I had love.
I had people that cared
I always had that "weird" friend that made us a pair.
I had fun moments and great teachers then I got to church to listen to good preachers.
Yet
Nothing change.
I was still that student who was suffering and no one ever knew because he could lie in the way he behave and show a slave to good faith when really he was a beaten bag on the inside.
Yet
There was no yet now,
not in this moment till later came,
till later was the new now,
till I could look back and smile.
Yet
I am proud.
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
Say there’s a boy who has two dreams,
One concerns business, one fishing in streams;
But which is the more real my friend?
A wolf licked an Eskimo’s blood-covered knife,
Licked it till it cut-up and bled out its life;
But are wolves’ impulses wrong my friend?
I saw a terrible play with a terrible end
And horrid lines no writer could mend;
But do you think I missed the point my friend?
Someone opened a door and let a dog in,
Unaware of where most strays have been;
But what is real kindness my friend?
One hundred slaves wept at their fortune,
United, killed the tyrant—ultimately won ;
But don’t they still work for their livings my friend?
I found a pocket watch in a patch of tall grass,
Hoped selfishly, watched centuries pass;
But weren't we told time heals wounds my friend?
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC
Remember when we used to play
With boxes and dolls all day
Making up stories with ridiculous names,
And never getting tired of this game?
We took ourselves to faraway lands
Where our fortunes were in our own hands,
And we could be the richest clown
Or the poorest chump in town.
Our worlds were rich and thick with lore.
Because nothing else mattered to us anymore
Except for the things we could dream in a day
Before we had to go in and stop our play.
Oh what times of great fun!
The imaginary worlds and tales we spun!
And when the moon rose through our windowpane,
I knew even then I couldn't complain,
For though as sisters we fought and battled,
And at the time, we may have seemed frazzled,
There was a certain unity we possessed,
Though it's existence we've never confessed.
We are very different people today.
We don't go off in backyards to play.
We work for our livings with measured stress
And sometimes in the midst get a bit depressed.
But what I'd like to change right now today
Before our adult lives get too underway
Is the forgetting of what used to be
When we needed each other terribly.
I may not need you to save me
Or fix me or change me
But I do still need you
For the occasional rescue.
Just like you used to take me away
In our backyard when we would play.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
Nature's music
Calms me smile
It's okay she says
The trees smile back
Green
Red
Grey clouds
Cover me
White blood cells
Are friends with peace
Red cells- they live
In me with life
Creation is all
Around It's here
Does it matter
How? Now.
Why ask how
When here is the now
Beautiful sounds
Earthly grounds
All I need is here
Now. Don't ask how
Don't ask why
Let your life live
Living is not life
Unless your life is alive
Beauty is only beauty
If you open your eyes
Music is everywhere
Sounds of the morning
Afternoon night
Open your ears-harmony
Society is big
On what is natural
Nature is natural
Open your senses
Slowly you see
Gently you hear
Softly you breath
Touch carefully
Open up
Worldly doesn't
Have to mean
Negativity
The world isn't ours
We are hers
She's naturally at peace
Never a mistake
Natural disasters
Aren't misfortunes
We invaded them
Choosing to be naive
Learn from her and
Live freely
I've learned my best
Chance at being fulfilled
Is sleeping outside
With clouds as warmth
Stars shine light
Sounds are my lullaby
Nothing is more
beautiful than the earth
At night natural free
No rules just be
Livings no longer hard
When sleeping beneath
The stars the moon
The comfortable clouds
Breathe her in
Welcome her senses
Make them yours
Grow into one
We have so much to offer this earth
If only we could be alive as she is.
Oct 8, 2011
Oct 8, 2011 at 5:17 AM UTC
how is it that you enter my life
and then without looking in my direction
no heed nor warning
seasons pass
ice falls
and the sun prevails our sensitive eyes
but we know of the departure
and we know of the return
how is it that you can leave within the twitch of my hand
and I can wait decades and decades for a return that
will never happen
until the sudden twitch
and I turn to dust
and I my soul finds its place underneath
the livings feet
hidden deep in the earth
until our time comes
so many of you have left
and it was always so unexpected
life and all it is shorter than my words
how moments pass so undetected
and I am frail
when I find acceptance hard to manage
when I think of the love and how its now hidden
under so many different surfaces
in a different world
blood runs thing
and pain creeps
at the thought of loved ones who have passed
most of us humans have someone
whom at one second of the day
thoughts retreat to
needles flow in your veins rather than blood
life comes and goes in sublime sharp ways
Nov 2, 2010
Nov 2, 2010 at 7:28 PM UTC