"maketh" poems
~
*O Painter
with thy own eye
would thee
paint me in mine own natural hue
prithee paint me as i am,
imperfections
and blemishes true
Load thy brush
with colors sundry
to maketh yond first pure sweep
across the ****** frieze,
fill'd with pangs of hunger.
paint me as i standeth
bethought, in deep
With mine own love and mine own desire,
blurring the edges unclean
with mine own regrets
and mine own mental gyre,
in mine own natural age,
of deep forest green
O Painter
Paint me sinister turquoise,
in lavender and maroon,
combine the amethyst and amber
blend the iceberg
and the indigo moon.
Paint me as i standeth,
prithee see with thy eye
a mistress in yond lady plight
Prithee paint me all i am
i cullionly
a mistress in all yond lady might
Paint me in the optimistic
silv'r of dawn,
but don’t miss the purple
to shade the bruise
of the bygone.
paint me in the sky blue journal
O Painter
Paint me as a unique template
smudge black white and grizzled
merging all the colors of thy palette.
col'r me a rainbow
in a rainy drizzle
Paint me tall so yond i standeth
loftier than any mountain
Paint me as a dram bird, delicate
with soft feathers silken
Paint me harmony, as a violin
so yond i can sing thy solitary tune
paint me as thy poetry
with song and melody
wrapp'd in a cocoon
O Painter
paint me as a dream yond rises
in did saturate colors
with a steady upbeat flight awry
tint, a fluttering
of a quite quaint butterfly
Portray me with endurance
imbue so bold and bright
doth not hesitate
to depict mine own mind
in profound fuchsia and white.
Useth the colors yond thee would borrow
Thy palette not yet exsufflicate
Paint mine own loss and mine own sorrow
in search of a shade so ******
Adorn mine own heart in glowing garnet
at which hour thee paint mine own love
add a true broken blue shade
of the cloud and the rain above;
Study mine own dry sorrow
in mine own soul
useth any shade thee plaited
soften the edges of control
in a tinge of xanthene.
O Painter
Prithee paint me
Mine own passion and mine own spirit
shall has't a crimson r'd hint
mine own remorse and mine own regret
shall reflect an ink stain print
Paint me in mine own eye so true
O Painter
but add a dash of courage too*
~
Dec 17, 2017
Dec 17, 2017 at 10:52 AM UTC
i.
A Vintage Alfajor necklace
To veil mine sovereign belle;
Betrothed for heaven's comfort
We hath already been through hell.
ii.
Ourn bygone time
Hath strengthened us for forthcoming rapture;
I'll be right next to her, in her allure
No death, forever, happily ever after.
iii.
I'll tryeth daily, tis none maby's
I'll doeth anything, for mine Filipino baby;
As tis I'll maketh her, forget her past
I'll be her bishop, she shalt be mine eternal hourglass.
iv.
As time goeth fast, I mustn't lose the thought
That tommorrow doth not always cometh, we dieth, get lost;
Though she hath found me, I knoweth what being saved mean's
I wilt liveth every day as mine last, and liveth it for mine queen.
v.
So dearest reyna, soulmate, and best friend
When thou doth readeth this, know ourn love shalt not end;
As we both understandeth, this planet is just a passage to the next
We wilt meeteth in this life, and afterward's, pag-ibig at it's best.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 3:55 PM UTC
The irony of mankind,
They maketh technology to better their lives
And yet,
Their technology
Is ruining their lives....
The irony...
As tis they couldst use that wired technology for healing
They use it for bombing and killing..
As tis they couldst use it for connecting
The fact is
They've all gone unconnected!!!!!!
Hiding behind some screen,
Forgetting what an old fashioned phone call is.....
Connection, man thought this technological advance wouldst do.
Disconnection is what is hast really brought them......
The irony.....
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 8:51 AM UTC
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
Oh Helena, how I doth know thy pain
Mocked is thine love when at love's feet thrown
Love hath looked upon thee with disdain
And yet still for him thy love hath grown
Do not despair Cupid's arrow at thine door does knock!
Upon thee, loves eyes an awakening will be placed
No longer can love's spiteful eyes see thee and mock!
And to thine love will he quickly rush in haste
But first know before one is to have thy way
A comedy must first be struck upon
Alas Puck! Disaster hath struck and a game we must all play
Before order is once more restored and the past foregone
Oh no! Now a love thrown upon thee unwanted
Mockery suspected, no more of this dost thou deserve
Evermore another feeling given to thee daunted
But now sit back, let the story unfurl and observe!
Finally soft words to thee spoken so craved
At once entranced but then felt thee a fool!
From nowhere sweet words so spoken must be depraved!
And in thine heart feeling loves sting ever so cruel
Now thy dearest friend! Intertwined within such a conspiracy
Such betrayal! Dear girl know it is a mistake
Albeit twisted and buried in the cruelest irony
Thy dearest friend, thine love she does not wish to shake
Through troubles and trials thou maketh thy way to a beautiful field
Fast asleep next to the love thy value ever so
Puck, fix thy mistake, give Helena her love to finally wield
And at last house a mutual love to forever grow
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 11:16 PM UTC
i.
Tis, tis, the first Christmas
With mine queen;
Tis, it is, mi amour
And her king.
ii.
Tis, though distances
Shalt separate;
Verily I sayest
Mine Reyna,
Thou art
Right in mine
Heart and soul.
Tis this is ourn
Fate.
iii.
Soon O' soon, we shalt
Hath a dinner date;
With yellow roses to
Wrap thine neck,
And mine kisses
To become to thee,
As peaceful sedate.
iv.
As tis, I wilt wait
In death, or in life
To bow on one knee,
To court thee mine queen;
To maketh thee in person
v.
Mine queen and mine wife.....
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 4:16 PM UTC
~~PASSIVE PASSION~~
Endures & Binds,
when
Provocations Looseth the Soul.
How
Submissive & Impulsive,
Yet so Very
Paradoxical a Paranoid !
~~RUSTED TRUST~~
Forges & Sharpens,
when
Life's Brunts Maketh the Soul.
How
Ironic & Caustic,
Yet so Very
Powerful a Predominance !
~~VANQUISHED VANITY~~
Fosters & Transcends,
when
Identity Forageth the Soul.
How
Narcissistic & Intransitive,
Yet so Very
Surreal a Sacrifice !
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 9:59 AM 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
I Am Waiting
I am waiting for my case to come up
and I am waiting
for a rebirth of wonder
and I am waiting for someone
to really discover America
and wail
and I am waiting
for the discovery
of a new symbolic western frontier
and I am waiting
for the American Eagle
to really spread its wings
and straighten up and fly right
and I am waiting
for the Age of Anxiety
to drop dead
and I am waiting
for the war to be fought
which will make the world safe
for anarchy
and I am waiting
for the final withering away
of all governments
and I am perpetually awaiting
a rebirth of wonder
I am waiting for the Second Coming
and I am waiting
for a religious revival
to sweep thru the state of Arizona
and I am waiting
for the Grapes of Wrath to be stored
and I am waiting
for them to prove
that God is really American
and I am waiting
to see God on television
piped onto church altars
if only they can find
the right channel
to tune in on
and I am waiting
for the Last Supper to be served again
with a strange new appetizer
and I am perpetually awaiting
a rebirth of wonder
I am waiting for my number to be called
and I am waiting
for the Salvation Army to take over
and I am waiting
for the meek to be blessed
and inherit the earth
without taxes
and I am waiting
for forests and animals
to reclaim the earth as theirs
and I am waiting
for a way to be devised
to destroy all nationalisms
without killing anybody
and I am waiting
for linnets and planets to fall like rain
and I am waiting for lovers and weepers
to lie down together again
in a new rebirth of wonder
I am waiting for the Great Divide to be crossed
and I am anxiously waiting
for the secret of eternal life to be discovered
by an obscure general practitioner
and I am waiting
for the storms of life
to be over
and I am waiting
to set sail for happiness
and I am waiting
for a reconstructed Mayflower
to reach America
with its picture story and tv rights
sold in advance to the natives
and I am waiting
for the lost music to sound again
in the Lost Continent
in a new rebirth of wonder
I am waiting for the day
that maketh all things clear
and I am awaiting retribution
for what America did
to Tom Sawyer
and I am waiting
for Alice in Wonderland
to retransmit to me
her total dream of innocence
and I am waiting
for Childe Roland to come
to the final darkest tower
and I am waiting
for Aphrodite
to grow live arms
at a final disarmament conference
in a new rebirth of wonder
I am waiting
to get some intimations
of immortality
by recollecting my early childhood
and I am waiting
for the green mornings to come again
youth’s dumb green fields come back again
and I am waiting
for some strains of unpremeditated art
to shake my typewriter
and I am waiting to write
the great indelible poem
and I am waiting
for the last long careless rapture
and I am perpetually waiting
for the fleeing lovers on the Grecian Urn
to catch each other up at last
and embrace
and I am awaiting
perpetually and forever
a renaissance of wonder
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
i.
Her orient smile
Canst maketh a sick child
Walk if once was lame;
ii.
Tis she's wild
With an innocent smile
O' how heaven's untamed.
iii.
Her name's sweet Jane
A cherub of oriental flame;
She drive's me mad, crazy, insane in a good way.
iv.
Thence back to her smile
I jump back inside her aisle;
O' heaven is sweet,
O' how heaven is sweet in sweet Jane!!!
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose)
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
Being respectful.
Keen to etiquette.
Vent humanity.
Unleash kindness.
We are all of diverse provinces,
Evade the chasm.
It's now all for one,
That we call,
Unity.
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 10:43 AM UTC
Tis I am just a man, a boy if thou want to sayest, a foolish lad; who hast hurt his blessing of a queen.
Tis I am just a man, a sinner, a prehistoric bringer; of sorrows
Where bird's dont sing.
O' wretched man I am; overlooking this perfect flower, she's arrayed as a petal neath the tropical hours.
O' im just the rain that brings the flood of many woes.
I wish, O' how I wish, I couldst pour all contentment and merriment into her lonesome soul.
Tis she's the rainbow, I the dusky storm. O' how her glow maketh mine day's liveable; O' how her voice is opulent galore.
If only she knew, she is mine better, mine best; mine breath of yellow dew.
Though I've not shown her the worth that she is; mine trials and tribulations hast become
mine abyss.
Though I shalt get through
This passage of gloom.
With God All is possible;
Even being set free from this tomb.
Tis I am just a man, a boy if thou want to sayest, a foolish lad.
Who if couldst wouldst start all afresh; re-giving mine love, and to get all mine best.
How a simpleton ive been;
To not seest heaven's eastern gem, glimmer her perfect wing's, for mine foolishness, these word's shalt I sing.
(Goes into song form, words "I love you jane, please forgive me" sung in spanish, greek, cebuano, tagalog/filipino).......
(Spanish)
Te amo jane,
por favor perdoname.
(Greek)
Se 'agapó Jane,
Se parakaló synchóresé me.
(Cebuano)
ako nahigugma kanimo Jane,
palihug pasayloa ako.
(Tagalog/filipino)
Mahal kita jane,
patawarin mo ako.
©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poets poetry
©earl Jane nagley dedication (agapi mou dedicated)
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 6:54 PM UTC
they say that manners maketh man,
yet boys in pyjamas
use them to be polite , asking for quality
behaviour. smiling slightly
converse in lowered tones.
nijinski.
©sbm
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 10:19 AM UTC
It's oh in Paradise that I fain would be,
Away from earth and weariness and all beside;
Earth is too full of loss with its dividing sea,
But Paradise upbuilds the bower for the bride.
Where flowers are yet in bud while the boughs are green,
I would get quit of earth and get robed for heaven;
Putting on my raiment white within the screen,
Putting on my crown of gold whose gems are seven
Fair is the fourfold river that maketh no moan,
Fair are the trees fruit-bearing of the wood,
Fair are the gold and bdellium and the onyx stone,
And I know the gold of that land is good.
O my love, my dove, lift up your eyes
Toward the eastern gate like an opening rose;
You and I who parted will meet in Paradise,
Pass within and sing when the gates unclose.
This life is but the passage of a day,
This life is but a pang and all is over;
But in the life to come which fades not away
Every love shall abide and every lover.
He who wore out pleasure and mastered all lore,
Solomon, wrote "Vanity of vanities:"
Down to death, of all that went before
In his mighty long life, the record is this.
With loves by the hundred, wealth beyond measure,
Is this he who wrote "Vanity of vanities"?
Yea, "Vanity of vanities" he saith of pleasure,
And of all he learned set his seal to this.
Yet we love and faint not, for our love is one,
And we hope and flag not, for our hope is sure,
Although there be nothing new beneath the sun
And no help for life and for death no cure.
The road to death is life, the gate of life is death,
We who wake shall sleep, we shall wax who wane;
Let us not vex our souls for stoppage of a breath,
The fall of a river that turneth not again.
Be the road short, and be the gate near,--
Shall a short road tire, a strait gate appall?
The loves that meet in Paradise shall cast out fear,
And Paradise hath room for you and me and all.
3.5k
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!!!!!
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 6:17 PM 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
i
Her Bayanihan entity, maketh me Muni-muni in the dusk
Her Humaling for me is relishing, alleluia for her, wanderlust;
I wilt court her mine soon, so she shalt knoweth all is bona fide
I'll taketh her hand in courtship, pushing all the past hurt aside.
ii
I wilt Siping with her in the sugar, in the bowl she dip's her hand
I'll dip mine finger's as well deep inside, inside her mind of tan;
I'll draweth her name on cardboard, and use black marker to,
Like bairn's in yard's, with relic yarn, I'll connect to mine muse.
iii
And thus to be fused, from ourn electrical sensual Spark's
Naked in the world's view, just as actor's, playing the stage part;
Though tis no script, this page is written by ourn amorous desire
Indigenous bodie's, to light the torches, love HOTT, all sweet fire.
iv
Mango to be viscid, between me and her's succulent tang
Her arm's wrapped around mine neck, not letting go, she hang's;
She is Makisig in perfect perfection, wearing a domino mask
Ballroom style, she driveth me wild, her love tis free, not a task.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©あある じぇえん
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 6:49 PM UTC
i
Aghast I was in, then an alien nonnative of this planet aroseth,
Her precious stones pierced me, nonjudgementally, I cried;
I bawled, as tis not in a bad way, but because her beautiful glimpse, her standing there, she saved me from the darkly stench.
ii
The kilig she giveth me is overwhelming, Kalinaw is delivering
I shalt Indak with her on the Hill's of her land, an Oriental band;
A queen, and one man, that man me, aforetime's I was lonesome
Tis now I am happy, she maketh mine wing's, flappeth so highly.
iii
She cometh at perfect timing, she assuage's mine hand's hole's,
She taketh the rivet's out from mine feet, she inspires me with her coming goals, mine sensation for her as a backarapper
Cracking to the fireworks glitz, her head on mine shoulder, lip's.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©あある じぇえん
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 10:09 PM UTC
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
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 5:33 PM UTC
If 't be true i ev'r befall to meeteth myself,
i'd sitteth graciously on silence's table,
and studyeth mine own evolved, yet un-evolv'd self,
undisturbed, unhurried, un-agitated,
by w'rld's brightest gulf
. and smileth backeth, as i seeth myself.
if 't be true i ev'r befall to meeteth myself,
i'd sitteth comf'rtably on peace's table,
and gaze mine own wounded, yet un-wound'd self,
un-agitated, un-deviated, unmoved,
by w'rld's s'rry self
. and smileth backeth, as i seeth myself.
if 't be true i ev'r befall to meeteth myself,
i'd sitteth calmly on agony's table,
and obs'rve mine own painful, yet not painful self,
unmoved, undaunted, unleashed,
by w'rld's weirdest self,
. and smileth backeth, as i seeth myself.
if 't be true i ev'r befall to meeteth myself,
i'd sitteth fain on glee's table,
with mine own eyes smiling, and smiling at myself,
unaffected, unguarded, unremitted,
by w'rld's unrequit'd self
. and grineth backeth, at myself.
if 't be true i ev'r befall to meeteth myself,
twill forsooth beest a did bless, contending miracle,
as yond's at which hour i couldst pateth & greeteth myself,
in real, in real, in real!
and maketh this fact p'rceivable,
yond our w'rld may sure oft hest struggles,
and our m're existence in t,
may just beest negligible,
but we nev'r gotta f'rget
to stayeth hopeful, smileth and giggle,
nay matt'r how hard the struggles,
as yond's the most wondrous fuel,
yond can oft causeth miracles,
in a w'rld,
so obsess'd with struggles!
And then with a sigheth,
a blooming grineth,
yet a sparkling desire within,
i'll did bid myself,
a farewell
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 5:42 AM UTC
When one finds no happiness in their own selves,
How canst they find it in others?
More than that...
How canst they maketh another down person happy?
They can't...
If God doth not remain in ones spirit
The person knoweth no happiness..
If they thinketh they art happy....
Their happy if but for a second....
Worldly happiness....
Always cometh to a halt....
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
Blessed is the cook
Who maketh his own fortune,
carefully seasoned
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
ojos de Angel
Thy dress is quite seen, thy vocabulary to me reads
The word's of a queen.......
mo chuisle
Thy feet art tired from work
Relax, let mine finger's exhort, pressing and caressing softly to thy skin.....
buah hatiku
For thee I write ancient poems and haiku's
Doth thou not seeith thou art mine muse, and law giver to me?
sirenita
I've traveled for thee from afar
I giveth mine courtship to thee, and heart
For though distance doth not keep us apart,
Distance is but a word
As mineself I canst maketh it all real...
Just telleth me,
When thou art up for a real call
A real visit
And everything to be....
For I'd giveth all for thou
Mine reina
Mine everything....
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Elsa angelica dedication
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 12:25 PM UTC
Reno, if a troll messeth with thee, forgiveth them
Their bound not free.
Reno, when the clown's maketh bad choices
Silence them with silence, not voices.
Reno, thou art a dear friend to me, so I thank thou
For always caring, and sharing what tis I believe.
Reno, thou art a being with class, and hopes art high,
Be thyself girl, let the poetry like bullet's fly.
Reno, we've been through this same type of hell,
Yet we don't quit do we? We're not trapped in some cell.
Reno, child of the lighter side,
Open thy mind, continue to expand, taketh that freak poet ride.
Reno, west coast poetic, like medicine thy word's art alphabetic
To soothe a person's bad day, into happiness in cool shade.
Reno, I shalt continue to back thine wonderful work's
And even whilst its us others do hurt, showeth them love always!
Reno,
What a blessing to all of us thou art
Reno,
Poetess by birth
Californian muse heart.....
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Reno dedication/friendship dedication
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 9:43 PM UTC
The earth shalt
Be in chaos,
Global
Turmoil
Soon;
For whom wilt
Thou chooseth;
Christ, or an Antichrist
That maketh all small,
Rich, poor, meek,
Taketh the bite of Satan
The mark of the beast.
Wherein is thine hope?
Man, or men? Traditional
Deities, cloaked under demon's
Of stench.
Christ Yeshua spoke
Come unto me all ye that labour
And art heavy laden; for he is meek
And lowly in heart, and all whom seek
Him shalt find rest in their soul's.
For peace only cometh from Christ's
Salvation alone.
If haven't accepted his salvation today
Soon the word's ( come up hither ) will
Be for the world to see on Judgement's
Display. We don't hath tommorrow,
And neither today, I pray O' do I pray
That thou shalt find the Messiah-
Yeshua ha'mashiach, the only eternal way.
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 7:09 PM UTC