"looketh" poems
Filipino immortal of time
I'm courting thee now;
And making thou mine
We both kneweth
This day wouldst arrive;
Now taketh mine hand, stand by mine side.
I hadst amour'
For thee, for so long;
Now let's maketh, the sweetest amare song.
Ourn affection, tis obvious
For all to see;
We art the real deal, not some farce dream.
As tis we shalt meet,
As thou shalt get that engineering degree;
I'll taketh a trip, or we'll meet in between.
I'm courting thee now,
Tribal of tropic's;
I'll get ****** in thy saliva, bodie's close, bliss the main topic.
None material's needed
As ourn belief's state;
Ourn devotedness, not some internet kiss, everlasting mate's.
So now thou shalt knoweth
Thou hath been courted;
To showeth thee mine love, and to me thou art more important.
Other's shalt judge
As other wilt mock;
Yet we shalt be happy, in romantic cot's
Even if we art poor
With none food on the table;
Ourn love shalt speaketh loudly, none words needed, nor label's.
We shalt write poetry
As it becometh true;
Sweetest earl Jane, just wanted to sayeth, I loveth thou more to.
Tagalog language, thou shalt teacheth me better
Queen earl Jane;
This is thine courting letter.
I'm not all the other's
As thou doth see;
I am thy Hari, thou art mine Reyna, in whom I believe.
As I knoweth thou don't feeleth
Good enough for man, nor God;
Just wanted to telleth thee, thou art mine, and God's all.
I just wanted to let thee knoweth
I looketh up to thine light;
Thou inspireth me so much, as to other's, thou art vital to life.
So when thou feeleth down
And wanting to leap out of thy brawn;
Remember tommorrow ill be here, as well as ourn own god.
This is mine courtship letter
As now I'm courting thee;
We both want it and need it, mine best friend, life, and queen...
I loveth thee so much
We both none more canst hide;
Thou art mine Earl Jane, thou art mine life....
To thee; dearest Earl Jane..................
©Brsndon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication/あある じぇえん
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 9:16 PM UTC
i.
Queen O' queen, this is thy king
Queen O' queen, this is thy king;
Put thine amulet, around thy neck-
For me.
ii.
Queen O' queen, this is thy king(10,9,8,7,6)
Upon saturns ring's, a beloved dream; (5,4,3)
Taketh mine hand, glideth the moon's with me. ( 2,1,liftoff)
iii.
This is thine king mine dearest queen
Thou hath taken me far away,
To the places only known
By saint's and those whom pray.
This is thy king mine dearest Queen
Erelong love, tis thine hope I cling;
And I'm higher in the most
Ravishing way. Erelong dove,
We'll maketh love in a holy way.
iv.
For here, am I dancing on the cosmos,
Beyond angelic tunes,
Thine eye's of cocoa tides,
Blend's inside me
As I rise.
v.
Though we've passed the universal edge
I'm peaceful in thine presence
Alive or dead; I feeleth the dark matter-
Bubble around in mine head, as Nirvana's
In ourn sight's, Zion's breath.
Queen O' queen, looketh ahead
The stream's; their flowing as
Milk and honey tree's
Touch ourn feet,
A tranquil homestead.
vi.
For here, am I dancing on the cosmos,
Beyond angelic tunes,
Thine eye's of cocoa tides,
Blend's inside me
As I rise.......
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley(Filipino rose) dedicated
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 7:58 PM UTC
( old Irish version)
i. Queen Jane, tá lá atá inniu an lá, an dara bliain mí ourn.
ii. Queen jane, looketh mé ar aghaidh chuig eternity leat.
iii. Queen Jane, ealaín muid mar an gcéanna á s.
iv. Queen Jane, ar feadh an tsaoil chomh maith le; Infinity.
v. Queen Jane, sonas neverending suthain.
vi. Queen Jane, tá a chruthú bás a fháil le sciathán ar síoda.
vii. Queen Jane, gan teorainn flyeth againn ar an Cosmos.
viii. Queen jane, amour ourn 'láidir, TIS lánmhaith.
ix. Féadfaidh na spéir s cairde dúinn, le toast.
x. Dhá mhí sona, an anam mianach, Jane mianach, mianach Reyna.
( English version)
i. Queen Jane, today is the day, ourn second month anniversary.
ii. Queen jane, I looketh forward to an eternity with thee.
iii. Queen Jane, we art the same being's.
iv. Queen Jane, a lifetime plus; infinity.
v. Queen Jane, perpetual neverending happiness.
vi. Queen Jane, immortal creation's with wing's of silk.
vii. Queen Jane, boundless we flyeth the Cosmos.
viii. Queen jane, ourn amour' is strong, tis upmost.
ix. May the heaven's grace us, with a toast.
x. Happy two month's, mine soul, mine Jane, mine reyna.
©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane nagley dedication ( Filipino rose)
©Lonesome poet's poetry/hari and Reyna poetry.
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 10:21 AM UTC
I am The Shoes of Shoes,
which are Solomon’s. Let him polish
me with the oil from his brow, for his gloss
is better than sunshine.
Because of the fragrance of thy ointment buffed
upon me, thy name
is Scent Shine, therefore do the ****** shoes
love thy feet. Stretch me,
with your Shoe-Tree, and I will run
& rejoice with thy feet through
gardens & woods, and across mountains alike.
I am leather, but comely, O ye Daughters
of Shoeshopingham, as The Pile Beneath
the Prophesised Viaduct, and as in the abundant
bottom of The Wardrobe of Solomon.
Look not upon me, because I am leather,
but put me upon thy feet for I
am thy soles.
I am the Rose of Shoe, and the Lilly of The Laces.
As the strong shoes among thorns, so
is my love among The Shod.
As the tongue that tightens to the fruit of the foot, so is
my beloved among The Shod.
His left foot is in my left purse, and his right
foot is my right, tight.
The Polish of My Beloved, behold, cometh
glinting off llyns, he cometh leaping upon
the mountains, with both of me tight on his feet.
Looketh fourth through The Round Window
of Wisdom, through The Lattice see
him shoeing himself with my flesh.
Take us the socked foxes, the little foxes that chew & spoil,
for our shodding is tender.
My Loved Shod’s feet are mine and my leather is his.
Until the day break, and the unshod shadows flee, turn
my Loved Shod, and be thou like the shoe young on the mountains.
Behold, thou art fair, my shoes, behold thou art shoes as fast
as a flock of goats over the Mountain of Shoedon.
Thy laces are like soft strands of moss, which have been spun
& woven in the Workshops of Acorns by The Grubs of Oak.
Thy eyelets are like the sweet slots in which nestle
the seeds of the pomegranate.
Thy tongues are like scarlet leaves fallen from speaking
trees, and thy squeak as I walk in thee is comely.
Thy heal is like the shield that should’ve been
fashioned for Achilles.
Thy two toe caps are as sleek & pert as the twin otters
that fish among the lilies.
How beautiful are thee, shoes for feet, O Goddess’s daughters,
the joints of thy soft foot-slot smooth as the gleam
of jewels, the work of the hands of a cunning cobbler.
O Solomon set me twin shoes as seals
upon thy feet, for Love is as strong
as The Road to Dead we must follow. O
my Loved Shod! for every one
of thy steps you make
in me is my bliss.
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 8:25 AM UTC
1
Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,
Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine!
Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain,
For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain.
All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air,
God hath made nothing single but thee in His world so fair!
The bride, and then the bridegroom, the two, and then the one,
Adam, and Eve, his consort, the moon, and then the sun;
The life doth prove the precept, who obey shall happy be,
Who will not serve the sovereign, be hanged on fatal tree.
The high do seek the lowly, the great do seek the small,
None cannot find who seeketh, on this terrestrial ball;
The bee doth court the flower, the flower his suit receives,
And they make merry wedding, whose guests are hundred leaves;
The wind doth woo the branches, the branches they are won,
And the father fond demandeth the maiden for his son.
The storm doth walk the seashore humming a mournful tune,
The wave with eye so pensive, looketh to see the moon,
Their spirits meet together, they make their solemn vows,
No more he singeth mournful, her sadness she doth lose.
The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride,
Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide;
Earth is a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so true,
And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth in vain to sue.
Now to the application, to the reading of the roll,
To bringing thee to justice, and marshalling thy soul:
Thou art a human solo, a being cold, and lone,
Wilt have no kind companion, thou reap’st what thou hast sown.
Hast never silent hours, and minutes all too long,
And a deal of sad reflection, and wailing instead of song?
There’s Sarah, and Eliza, and Emeline so fair,
And Harriet, and Susan, and she with curling hair!
Thine eyes are sadly blinded, but yet thou mayest see
Six true, and comely maidens sitting upon the tree;
Approach that tree with caution, then up it boldly climb,
And seize the one thou lovest, nor care for space, or time!
Then bear her to the greenwood, and build for her a bower,
And give her what she asketh, jewel, or bird, or flower—
And bring the fife, and trumpet, and beat upon the drum—
And bid the world Goodmorrow, and go to glory home!
3.6k
i.
Through ourn year's
Through ourn year's;
Beyond death mine love.
ii.
When thing's
Get bad;
And day's get tough.
iii.
It's already been
(Thirty) twenty-four hours;
Happy one month anniversary, Filipino flower.
iv.
I looketh ahead
To eternity's bed;
With ourn plume's to toucheth, garbing ourn head's.
v.
How fortunate I am
O' how privileged I am;
To haveth mine queen, the one of mine dream's, a gem in hand.
(HAPPY 1st anniversary Queen Earl Jane nagley)
©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane nagley dedication/ 30 day anniversary
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 6:40 AM UTC
i.
An enthusiast of Japan
With her love of detective conan;
She loveth YouTube, and small thing's cute
Her voice is uplifting, maketh a lame man start moving.
ii.
From the ancient province
Of Misamis Occidental;
In the northern Mindanao region
Her birth was preordained, not accidental.
iii.
Her favorite color's yellow
And looketh **** in yellow dress;
Though I love her also in black
And red she's a Filipino conqueress.
iv.
I knoweth all about her
Inside and all out;
She's a present wrapped in palm's
She's mine soulmate, no doubt.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane Nagley dedication (soulmate)
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
KILIG
An explosion of butterfly's;
Whenever I looketh, into earl Jane's eye's.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 6:01 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
i.
Alleluia, I proclaim, six month's it hath been, an eternestial
Keep. None need for word's to cometh out of mine mouth and lips, none need for mine sight to peep. For now; soundly do I sleep. Slumbering in mine dulcet Jane's deepest desires and wishes.
ii.
Every fibril of mineself, shalt be tucked away in her niches, warm and cozy therein I wilt abode; I wouldst selleth all possessions, to be next to her, though I knoweth patience hath
Us on hold.
iii.
In the meanwhile, we shalt cosmogyral, ground to air, a many whilsts. Creshinta lovenairs, O' another six month's wilt cometh again. A lifetime I looketh forward to, kindred spirit, best friend.
iv.
I will not cease, from building upon thee ourn bedrock, thus the ticking hand tick's away, and the minutes betray the clock's. In heaven amour, is where we do belong, with melodious angel's singing hymn's; and saint's to play ourn song. We wilt forever be, six month's from now, six year's, six generation's, six hundred fear's, six-thousand kisses, six million glares, six billon glimpses, of thee mine wife and me all ourn lives. In matrimonial bozeere.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 9:15 PM UTC
Where Claribel low-lieth
The breezes pause and die,
Letting the rose-leaves fall:
But the solemn oak-tree sigheth,
Thick-leaved, ambrosial,
With an ancient melody
Of an inward agony,
Where Claribel low-lieth.
At eve the beetle boometh
Athwart the thicket lone:
At noon the wild bee hummeth
About the moss'd headstone:
At midnight the moon cometh,
And looketh down alone.
Her song the lintwhite swelleth,
The clear-voiced mavis dwelleth,
The callow throstle lispeth,
The slumbrous wave outwelleth,
The babbling runnel crispeth,
The hollow grot replieth
Where Claribel low-lieth.
2.2k
i.
Albeit I'm here
And thou art there;
Many mile's from eachother
Yet still ourn endearment shalt not decrease.
ii.
I am thine own
Thou art mine;
No need to worry mine darling
I'm thine own forever, not a lease.
iii.
Agone juncture's
Of mine second's and minute's of sorrow's;
Art now gone mine treasure
Looketh forward toward's the morrow.
iv.
Interval's shalt pass
With times we both art to busy;
But at the end, when the sunshine bend's
I'll still be waiting for thee mine queen, mine hunny.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication ( Filipino rose)
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 6:59 PM UTC
i
Mother, I seeith thine pain, in thine own depression
Mother, thou hath given me life, I'm thy and God's invention;
Mother, thy halo thou weareth shineth so brightly to me
Turned fifty three yesterday, but mum, thou still looketh 23.
ii
Mother, thou art now getting in thine own golden year's
Mother, when they maketh fun of me, thou dryeth mine tear's;
Mother, I shouldst hath listened, when thou saidst I'd be hurt
Mother, thou taught me forgiving and love is what life's worth!
iii
Mother, mine best friend, and past life caregiver to me
Mother, thou was right, its mine light other's just canst not seeith;
Mother, I knoweth thou art worried for mine physical health
Mother, if something happen's, I promise to waiteth for thyself.
iv
Mother, we've cometh along way, as thou hath seen me in cell's
Mother, I've seen thou to, in pits of doom,behind glass I yelled;
Mother, hell and back we've cometh from, seeing the world end
Mother, as thou helpeth me groweth, I'll helpeth thee to friend.
v
Mother, shadow of mine, musical muse, and gods divine
Mother, we've made mistakes, with no brakes to stop the mind;
Mother, tommorrow if either of us shalt loose ourn last breathe
Mother, sorry little late on the birthday writing, but thou art best.
Love thy son
Brandon cory nagley
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Juna nagley birthday dedication
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 3:25 PM UTC
i.
Mo chuisle, if this specter shalt cease;
Keepeth mine writing's in a chest for safekeep's.
ii.
Mo chuisle, if mine eidolon doth release;
Remember mine amour', please do not weep.
iii.
Mo chuisle, I feeleth soon this heavy flesh shalt succumb;
No tears, no fear's, I am thy chosen one.
iv.
Mo chuisle, I don't knoweth how many more breath's art left;
v.
Though if this is mine last, always remember lass,
I wilt forever loveth thee mine pet, though we hath not met, soon we shalt. Keepeth thine window open so mine spirit canst cometh and goeth freely, to enter in, and cometh out. Thou art not alone, if even thou shalt feeleth it, mine soul is mobile, I'll travel universal-global; I'll doeth all to protect thee mine Asian Noble. A hierarchy of cherub's and seraph's awaiteth me now, I think they needeth me soon, to be a poet in God's room, just looketh high, I'll be aloft the ground. Mas mahal kita Reyna, never forget these word's, they might be mine last, mine sweet Jane, mine soulmate, mine all, mine all of me;
Mine best friend..
Mine other half
Mine life;
Mine wife..........
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 5:11 PM UTC
Traveling through the dusk tunnel
A pinpoint of light at the end;
Warmth overtaketh me
The beginning of life's around the bend.
One hundred kin
Waiting to greet me in;
All smiling, all radiating
Ages range from five to one-hundred and nine,
Some looketh old, though all's young: no age existeth, time here is not told. Age only existeth back on earth, though here; all age's art the same, no one is special by their birth.
Betwixt mine family standeth tall mine savior and lord
Jesus Christ the king; with angel's whom standeth beside him, as tis they speaketh together telepathically. In Christ's hand's he reacheth out to me- as whilst I looketh at his eye's aqua green, the universe showeth itself in a way to Man unseen; and whilst at that moment clearly I hadst seen the hole's in his Palm's and feet, his word's " cometh hither mine son" I bowed in front of mine kin to him instantaneously.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 2:51 PM UTC
Have you seen my God today?
It seems that i have lost Him
and cannot find him anywhere.
Not in verdant fields
nor rolling hills
or leafy trees He lies.
I search and search
And search
But still I cannot find Him
I searcheth high
and looketh low
but I do not find Him.
The oceans roar in consternation,
the ponds have no reply.
The rivers, streams, and little brooks
whisper He has died.
Where is He who has said
He's all encompassing?
Without a compass or a map
or even astrolabe,
He's lost in His design.
Oct 24, 2011
Oct 24, 2011 at 12:48 PM UTC
time it is
she beckoned
time and I ate of it
the dread
the matter of her
no kiss of her
from her
honestly
no doubt, I knew...
it was dinner time
"eat me"
she labored
as dog in heat
spread her legs
as on stirrups
I be, the muzzle be her divorce from me
yank my collar, chain wrapped
about her hand
beckon me
"eat"
chain be her love I desire
collar be my patience given
but appetite?
mine be love
her beest pleasure
I have no appetite for
merely
pleasure
neither hers nor mine
sans love?
no appetite at all have I
eyes so weary of wanting
that I melt
as Salvador Dali prophesied
mine eyes droop
her thighs
wet my fantasies
as ice cream, on the hottest Sunday,
I am weak
weary of denying myself her
she, a mere rainforest of beauty
abundant in plural, though singular
her flower
droop me 'tween mine legs
raise me, as the dawn rises zenithly,
she pies me,
my piper, my charmed being
I'm pied
she has me
dancing, midriffly, with ****** fervor
mine eyes cast down
as shadow in sunset
lone tree in the wilderness
redfern shadow
a mile long
mine eyes cast down between her legs
seeing all my heart's desires
"eat"
and all my hopes dieth there
"eat"
despair, I mourn
I pine
"love me"
I opine, my lover love me
be not pleasure the measure of our stay, in bed, this Sunday
love me, as the Father hath given us this day
be not Eve of the forbidden love
be Dawn of the day we won eternal life from the devil's death
that my fruit be of your nectar drunk, that I be your pleasure,
and you be mine
that I succor thine fruit
hour by hour that you writhe
not as snake but as mountain shook
as mountain moved
faithfully, you love me,
let that fantasy be mine drink
and thine offering due my thirst
that love sate me,
nay?!
"eat!"
and all the world looketh empty of light
"eat! **** you"
and all the world be afright with wonder that I be man, yet, eat not my ****** that
she be heathen of love, still, my ****** she be,
simply,
that mine eyes drink her in
beauty beyond compare
but that mine ears deceive me not
for deceive me, her flesh does
but her forked tongue
as lightning streak
she shat the bed
that streak be her ****** blessing
dashed across her whorish ways
be that time
I linger in wait
wanting, but that I eat
she trappeth me
that all I be good for
is her pleasure
but be not fit
for her love
"eat! what are you good for?!"
nay, irony be that
time told
clock struck truth
"eat!"
nay
"what my flesh be, here, then?"
a trap,
and I say nay
for I be a lover
of such supple,
gorgeous,
womanly flesh, not, merely,
a ******
"eat"
I be not hungry,
for a *****
my flesh be purchased
but nay that my heart he purchased
neither my soul,
by merely, lust
I, too dearly, pine for you
dream of you
romance you deeper than form
and fit
time
and merciless pleasure
to be,
of you,
lustfully...
so, I say,
nay...
but,
that ye should, learn love me
perhaps,
that day
perhaps
then, yay
Mar 13, 2025
Mar 13, 2025 at 1:45 PM 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
i.
She is becoming
As she hast ameliorated mine pang's;
Her radiance is chatoyant
She melt's mine thought's, with her dusk black and wet bang's.
ii.
Her bungalow is mine own
Bucolic and historically hidden;
We're passionate in ourn dwelling
The walls brushed with ourn amour', tucked between ceiling's.
iii.
Memorabilia she keepeth
Of her childhood in a small room;
I stareth at her adolescent memory photo's
Thinking God made her on the moon.
iv.
Feeling how blessed I am
With mine Jane, neath her plume's;
Her wing's stretch out, north to south
A defense from demon crew's.
v.
A exemplar to the Almighty architect
The embodiment to all mine livelihood;
She's the road to peace, from west to east
On mine knee's I looketh to her, I kisseth her feet.
For she's mine queen...........
©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC
i.
Forby thou art not,
I quiver from the
Cold; mine heart
Is running rapid,
There's anguish
In mine soul.
ii.
I wail out of mine
Bones, mine grave
Is looking close, I
Implore for thee,
Mine Jane, mine
Sweet. I implore
One day, thy eye's
I'll meet.
iii.
On the emptied
Street's of purgatory,
Mine sandal's art worn;
I beseech for just one kiss,
But there's nothing, mine heart doth burn.
iv.
Though through these trial's
And Tribulation's, I shalt
Hath patience; whilst I
Get bitten, by the demon's
I have been smitten. Ourn
Affamour shalt break down
Door's, wherein hell shalt
Shatter, we shalt reach the
Shores, O' I plore for thou.
v.
Mine eyeball's art sinking in, is this death somehow?
Mine body and limbs now doth trow; it's weathering
Away, I'm hanging on tight; I prayest thou canst saveth
Me, by the end of the night. And queen if I goeth, please
Knoweth mine amulet belongeth to thee, I wilt forever
Looketh down, upon thine crown, mine empress; mine
Queen.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 9:36 PM UTC
When I looketh into
Mine reyna's Asiatic telescope marble's
I canst seeith, all of God's creation;
And all the time I seeith
Shooting stars
Passeth by
As the comos
Is full
Of life.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry.
©Earl Jane dedication
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 5:12 PM UTC
Asked I eventually for her name.
And she to me said, Miss Summer ***
And thine? required the the fair dame.
I'm Sexton. Yes,
The Sixth Sexton Durex.
Told I her as she's frolickin' 'bout me free.
Although looketh she supernaturally gay,
On that beach, in her birthday suit;
But seein' we two were in pursuit
Of Sainthood could we not Hollywood play--
Except 'gainst temptation to pray,
From which a man should rather flee!
Oct 9, 2011
Oct 9, 2011 at 10:57 AM UTC
i.
Cometh closer rayna, into mine sight
I gaveth mine last exhalation, in the middle of the night;
Do not be frightened, do not fright,
I'm lively, beyond the grave, thus once burdened, as a man an slave.
ii.
Cometh here rayna, into mine glow
Looketh at mine hand's, Into mine soul;
I knoweth we couldst not meeteth, in the world of the living,
But now I am here,spiritually breathing.
iii.
Cometh here rayna, looketh at mine new regalia
I've met kin, with a thousand friends, we chat amongst azaleas;
Heaven tis real, more than thou couldst imagine
I'll meeteth thee there, thou canst stroke mine hair,
No more devil's, worldlies, or tormenting dragon's.
iv.
Cometh closer mi amour', mine poetry is the door
That thou shalt findeth me; I won't be lost- readeth between the lines of mine stanza's, that's where I shalt be.
I'll be looking down upon thou, before thine own dying breath's, Jane, O' mine whole, O' mine Rayna, we'll meet again someday;
Please weareth the honey yellow dress. Do not be mad at God, for he needed me home. Soon mine love, soon mine dove, we shalt reside in a place I picked covered in heavenly gold, a view to calleth ourn abode. Doeth good whilst I'm away, loveth one another, this is ourn creator's message, I wilt sendeth thee blessing's, just continue to loveth thy sister's and brother's.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose ) dedication
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
I sat back with a high chest from my desk to the chair, there i swagg from a wheels to the unfolder.
My immediate dream was to down my great bottle of this Royal Circle
There i pondered about our country sorry "our beloved Pearl of Africa" then i saw it run from its citizens claiming they are not fair. It said; who looketh for peace among the starving with guns and powder of injur, who massageth my thirsty throat with aclub of salt.
I nay in dislussion, my heart went hopping and skipping while my country narrated, i have lived before them and so shall i when they are gone, i fed their ancestors though worried to feed the future.
Then i interrupted in dismay, why cant you do something in laughter my country chuckled with hiccups, you are learnt but naive i offer you nature you offer me plastic and plant landminds as i carry guilt to murdering than my ability in shelter and food providence, the more you love the paper i count my days to live stronger in the name of investment you slaughter me especially you who knows but delights to do nothing.....
Then my eyes went pale and eemembered "people in my country make history by destruction"
It said to me; your thoughts are right as i gazed to a thirc party when i discussed with Mr Uganda.
You are all lazy carrying crosses but heading the wrong way. You are treated as bustards in your own homes by scavengers that get plenty of paper from you and reward you peanuts.
One minute i felt i could cry,for i knew the victims and thought would share but Mr Ug sang...#Bagala alina - genda okole. When your there you will learn more third party spoke through but we are in irony; worry not for selves he said for you live but how about those to come- i possed after asking a bunch of questions then he answered me well. Just like you i got more questions than answers.....do you owe your country or it owes you
#Watch out for what my country answered next
Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 12:02 PM UTC