"needeth" poems
I shalt taketh her to the tadpole galaxy
Than to hoag's object
Than we shalt bypass the whirpool galaxy
Than onto sombrero's bright swirl.....
Than onto the pinwheel galaxy
Wherein we shalt be its pinballs,
Than up against the blackness of God's curtain of the universe abroad.... Onto the Andromeda, LMC to, than the milky way, earth's creational dust brew....
Bode galaxy shalt open us, to terrace of the aura, I shalt swayeth with mine home (mi amour') of distant mascara....
Yet she needeth no mascara, for her eye's art already arousing, **** elegant picture's, a model made in birth, her poetic stature's daily groweth bigger....her look's art a trigger, to take thee to thy face, making thee SEEITH dream's of thing's of holy grace!!!! An elegant being, with the spirit of an eagle, she soar's me to planet x, she's pure.....
The opposite of evil!!!!!!
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 11:12 PM UTC
He held my hand today in the most delicate way,
as if my fingers resembled flower petals and my
palm reenacted butterfly wings. My hand felt
fragile in his grip, which mimicked my feelings
towards him because his heart did not belong
in the spaces between my touch - his heart
belonged in something as light as air; something
as delicate as cotton. And my heart was tattered
with thorns, assured to shred his into pieces. All
the more treacherous, he traced my fingers be
tween my mittens, and it still felt like fabric -
contrary to your inevitable static. And that is
when I knew that even though he did everything
right, he made it that much worse. As much as he
tried, my frost-coated lips challenged the warmth
in his voice, and it wasn't me he needed. It was I
that needeth not deserve him.
gd
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 1:05 AM 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!!!!!
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC
i.
O'
Timely
Apricity;
ii.
Mayest thou
Warm, and blanketeth
Me; as a neonate, as
Thou shalt gorgonize
Me, from within the space,
Ourn embracing is a cataract,
Of heavied chime-together laced.
iii.
Thine speak is comely, Concord
To mine earshot; the copse is
Surrounding, none manor
Needed, just the coney's,
With the delightful tree's,
veneering ourn cot.
iv.
Exhaling all ourn woes
And sorrow's, as if none
Tommorrow; None haste,
And none distaste, house-
Leeks groweth whilst the
Flaxen colored roses follow.
v.
O' oriental Apricity
I'm cold mine lass,
I'm freezing fast;
This winter day
Hath chilled mine
Soul, I needeth thine
Fire-place, to heateth these bones.
Though far-flung, away on stretched water's.
I'm awaiting for thee, mine queen, O' Apricity,
I'm awaiting O' queen, mine swart of the sea, thou holdeth the lock, tis I hath the key, here thou goeth amour', open it up, flyeth on through-setteth me free.
©Brandon Nagley
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 5:02 PM UTC
i.
Her affection I needeth
To sustain mine living's;
ii.
Her smile I beseecheth
Which is vital to mine breathing;
iii.
Her laughter is mine medication
The herb to mine being;
iv.
Her blood everafter
Is lifeforce, is life to mine eyesight and seeing;
v.
Her loyalty meaneth the world
O' how perfect she is a woman, the image of a queen, a real girl;
vi.
Her amour' is the path on which I abode
O' mine wife, mine soulmate and life, without thee I wouldst not be whole;
©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane Nagley-Filipino rose dedication
©Lonesome poets poetry
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 5:14 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
i.
Alow downward Reyna, humanity hunger's and kill's,
Red liquid they do spill, despoiling, toiling, taking
Lucifer's fill;
ii.
We canst only watcheth queen, as their working's and dream's,
Get untied by the string's, of the fine unseen line, of the principalities and power's.
iii.
Henceforth the hour's, shalt be as fading flower's, they shalt seeith their government's and darkened power's; falleth as the star's, men who knoweth none boundaries, God shalt rattle the mountain's and deep, as a harlot to her patron. Though the patron's sleep.
iv.
We shalt endureth this paining moment amour', the cosmic chronograph is opening door's; erelong love, erelong amour', we shalt sit at a feasting table, wherein the beau monde that hast Satan's barcoded label, shalt not perch. The flame shalt quench it's thirst, as recreation below us takes it's course. For ourn creator spoke this Jane, in the beginning. The world's lost it's way, it needeth cleansing from the sinning. As we shalt be restored by reconnecting on higher planes. To be reborn, in the spirit again.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedicated
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 7:18 PM UTC
Avaunt, avaunt, I want to be,
Betwixt thy kiss, where
Ocean's roar; as
Studded door's
Open to the
Love I need.
An aye from thou
An aye from me;
I needeth mine
Filipino queen.
Thro the sorrow Jane
I'll be waiting, thro
The morrow; this
Heart will be racing.
Pumping each second,
Awaiting thy touch;
Craving thy face,
O' the yearning
Is much.
Time is so slow
When we art
Many sea's
Away;
But I'll get
To thee
Somehow,
The morrow----------if not the morrow;
I'll try again another day.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane nagley ( agapi mou) dedicated
Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 9:47 PM UTC
Yesterday and today and again tomorrow
Regrets build up from day to day
To the last moment of my waning life
And all my yesterdays have guided me
Towards my longed for death, so **** you, brief candle.
Life's just a passing sideshow, poor interval
To fill in the time between TV shows and football -
So pass another beer - life's just a ragged tail
Wagged by an idiot, it's **** and *** and ***** -
And then there's **** all left.
Know you whichever tempestuous idiot declar'd
O wonder how many goodly creatures are there here
And how beautious whining mankind be?
O brave new ******* pointless world
That has such people in't or some such futility
Needeth yet her brains examining forsooth
And has ne'er seen Wolverhampton ill-lit by moonlight.
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 4:12 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
O humanity, thou hath made the foul mouth a normalcy to men to talk to their Queen's, to calleth them slave word's, as if these women art unseen.
O humanity, thou telleth mankind that disgust in magazine's is OK, whilst little boy's calleth little girl's ***** and ****** making thine action's to the devil's way.
O humanity, thou selleth guns and bomb's to eachother, worship dollar Bill's with little faces on them that **** as the green paper's art of greed as so many DIETH for.
O the humanity; thou giveth death by the million's, population control through weather, and war's, thou Selleth blood diamond's, and trade *** to rich men from young girl's.
O humanity, lover's of thineself, don't helpeth noone else, the mall is thine luxury, thy lonesome room is seducing to thee, snorting lines to escape what's to cometh from the sky's.
O mankind, the trumpet's art about to be blown, thou art marrying with other's? And their soul's thou doth not knoweth? Thou giveth charity to nonsense? Yet none to God?
O mankind, none more class, none more slow, everything's fast, driving new age Boxcar's to rusheth to work, to put ten pennies in thy tanks? And thou doth not protest the killing and blood squirt?
O mankind, taketh and receiveth? None giving, noone thou needeth? Thou hath given all the time in the world to thy paperwork, yet none for thy lover's, family, or friend's.
O THE HUMANITY, O THE HUMANITY!!!!!!!!
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
Lambent lassie, how I needeth thee today,
I wilt be thy loving man, doing all that I canst;
To make ourn contour's swirl in a dance-
As we pass betwixt the seraphic
Trace. Chaperoned my darling,
Head resting upon head, inner-
Being in rapt, none feeling
Of dread. Mine pinkie do
I giveth thee, lock onto it-
And hold, rest thy fret inside mine chest,
Taketh a breath, inside this soul.
Kindred spirits way back from old, living young,
Homeward bound; igniparous by ourn kindling sound's.
O' fortitude wilt I hath when the time is not yet for meet,
Yet verily mine lass, tis one stroke of an hour we wilt greet.
If I hath to crawl the pit's of the abyss, slithering through the deep, if I hath to waken to a strange cosmic minute, or dieth a death of sleep. If I must endure the second's away from thee, only but for a lifetime, I'll patently awaiteth mine Jane, an eternity with thee by mine side. To glance in thy eye's and to hold thy hourglass waist, to kiss thine honey like a bee to a bloom, to maketh ourn bed upon white roses wherein spirituality is in tune. A bride and groom of times afore, we entered in by the portal of Yahweh's door, never to turn back; ahead we look on. Planting ourn pip's to what lieth ahead, happiness up upon the hill of ourn homestead. None alas expressions, for this place we art meant, together to be, mine baby, mine treat; of the patience we built up, ourn amour shant be in rent, as with the finest of spices I shalt lather thy feet.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane Nagley ( àgapi mou) dedication
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 1:42 PM UTC
The legion of mine zeal for thee
Outreaches unknown boundaries,
No barbed wire to holdeth me back
Just a ( I loveth thee to mine mami) ( to mine love)
And a ( I needeth thee now) oh papi ( from mine love)!!!!
From the one I sit on hold....
Slang we shalt speaketh as peasants
But ourn amare richer than most,
To guide her by mine allegiance
To bathe with her in comet lighting toast...
Her jazzy sensual patois
To pleat me in mine king throne bassinet,
The queen to taketh mine angst
And lie me in a dream I canst forget.
She whispers deeply secrets
As mine ears perk in excite,
Her eyes burn voluptuous through mine
She comforts me at night!!!!!
I canst never tread off
From the only familiar ***** rose,
I've toldeth thee all long ago
We were past life amour's of long beginning show.
The asteroids we used as projection
To maketh ourn way here,
Yet now the earth's ending
We must return to infinate angel years...
Ourn Chronograph's don't telleth Pace's
Only ourn soul's affection for eachother,
As a monarch of the Luna atmosphere she is
Twas I was sent here to bring her back into her home
Mine arms.....
Mine eyes
Mine mind
Mine soul
Mine spirit......
Wherein she already knoweth she belongs!!!!
As tis
She was mine
Long before she ever kneweth it..
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 3:23 PM UTC
Like snow white,
All I needeth is mi amour's pucker,
To waketh me up...
©By-Brandon nagley-Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 8:47 AM UTC
She, mine world
She, mine wife;
She, mine girl
She, mine life;
She, mine living
She, mine all,
She. Mine sight
She, mine Asian doll.
She, mine amour'
She, mine amare,
She, mine moral's
She, mine finger's, and hair.
She, mine beauty
She, mine plenty;
She, mine blood
She, mine lassie.
She, mine otherworldly
She, the gate's of pearly;
She, mine seraph
She, mine cherub.
She, all I needeth
She, when she cryeth, I bleedeth.
She, mine night
She, mine day
She, mine freedom
She freed me from decay.
She, Earl jane
She, O' mine Earl jane;
She, mine happiness
Doth these word's not explain?
She.....
Mine Earl jane nagley....
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane nagley( Filipino rose) dedication
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 5:02 PM UTC
The glacé savor, O' e'er how I needeth her so. O' she's the candelabra inside of me, sparking fires to maketh me whole. What's mine is her's, as what's her's is mine. Colonstias courting, O' to Highway Banadero; mine feet do I find. O' she canst healeth the blind, as tis I once was, mine sight is returned, as doth God through her work, didst thou not knoweth? She's a seraph by birth. Aloft the star's, she went through Apotheosis; hostess of the holy missives, O' how I received her amour long ago, afore the times of humankind's admission.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedication
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 6:42 PM UTC
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
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 9:24 PM UTC
i
Earl Jane, oriental poetess, thou art so down, that's why I writeth this, Earl Jane, best friend of Friend's, thine heart's open as thou doth not pretend, as so many other's do; Earl Jane, thy hand's writeth as a muse, thou art not abjected in mine room, welcomed
ii
Earl Jane, lover of all being's, agone wherein thy heartbreak Sting's, I shalt taketh thine wound's mine friend, kind, gentle, thy charity with none end, thou shalt filleth thy dream's unlike other's thinkest, thou shalt glaze the moon in color's, I'll watcheth
iii
Earl Jane, afoot beside me, its thee I shalt helpeth and guide
I seeith the passion and compassion in thine eyes, as thou art free
Earl Jane, poetica dream, taketh the rope off from around thy neck, ourn savior saved thee, as I'm here for thee to protect.
iv
Earl Jane, I knowest whence thou came: from the before life of this, wherein romantic's met the poetic flame, earl jane, Asiatic bird, let thy anguish cometh out in word's, and jot and scribe thine soul down as it glide's, and frolic for new tommorrow.
v
Earl Jane, is this helping thine sorrow? Art thou smiling now as thou shouldst? Just look at mine face if thou needeth a laugh, we both knoweth its stained, like church rose glass, I knoweth right now that thou shalt laugh, art thou smiling now? Dearest friend...
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication/ friendship poem
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 7:15 PM UTC
Summer sister sends her love to the minister
A blank verse cursed eye lids pursed
Ten dollar attraction for 5 cent of a fraction
Love a friend dies like the fog of the early morning
Friends forgive themselves after they have left the home stead
Snow melts as slow as milk molds further
Centimeter sticks of solute
Streets where I was not born
Streets where I am headed full horned
Pious pity for the peasants which we all are
Scribbling for forgiveness from our dear Lord
A man unseen unheard and not to be feared
The way of the law is the way of us all
Nature needeth not the glaring eye of suspicion
The heat the head the fingers the release
The treasure of might that relieves all the stresses of the week
Of the calender
Of the foghorn of maliciousness throughout this plagued and misfortunate world
I can't take it much longer I've got to see the world
The scope of the time lapse trembles underneath the eye of a child
Underneath the fingernail of God
Skyscrapers screaming for justice for they were built by the hands of the over fed
The overworked
The tricked and the deceived
I cannot go on if this is how it all is for the rest of time
Pie eating contests with cherry filled hormones
Hot dog churches eyes bursting the soul lifeless and thirsty
These people were born into a life not embraced and unbred
Now with the hour striking double midnight
The raven cracking his beak on my skull
The water dripping like the falls I've never seen
Bursting flames of white torrent flush underneath the whisper of God's hush
To be here to be there to be anywhere underneath the sky's glare
We are specks of conversation left at the dinner table
With a red lipstick kiss and a number
A frown and a glint of the flirtatious eye
Women and men living together in imperfect harmony
Lies that lay alive and writhing and seething and high and mighty breathing
These friends of mine whom I hold dear are getting much older
As am I
As am I and yet the sky
The bright blue egg crack yellow sky
Rests in infinite
Youthful
Romance
Aug 15, 2011
Aug 15, 2011 at 9:36 PM UTC
Some say tis a curse to seeith and heareth things
That other's quote sayeth:
( is not there)
Well God happened to giveth me this foresight
To heareth and feeleth and seeith good and bad spirit's around me....
And trust me,
I got plenty of evidence...
So thine own theory ( they don't exist) oh man
Doesn't fly with me.....
I knew this long ago..
As I must say it was a blessing
Being raised in a family who kneweth God already..
As many don't get that opportunity...
Tis a curse as well with this gift,
Of seeing
Feeling
Knowing
Hearing....
Because with the good still lingering coming in and out....
The little brute Hellion's are quite a hassle.....
They scratch
Get one sick
( physcially) so on every which way....
They'll calleth one out by name
Plenty evidence of that recorded down....
But whilst at the same time
These little brutes hateth when I calleth on God for help
(Fallen angels they are)
As the good angels ( gods) hath always swooped in
Wherein the hellion dissapear.....
Yea,
They know not to mess with one of God's....
And the world will sit there
In human thinking....
And ask themselves,
Why didst man **** another man???
Or why didst he pull the trigger to his temple
Or so on....????
I can telleth thou this oh friend....
As the word goes...
For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.
As mankind.
Seems to hath forgotten...
Or more than that
Wants to run from its dark truth....
For tis I
Who knoweth better...
For I don't run
No needeth to run
For they always find me due to mine bright aura...
And human kind doth not realize
( other than a few)
That the brighter thy soul is
And more energy and more open thou art...
The more they cometh around.....
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 7:40 AM UTC
i.
More than ever
This hour;
Now, mine God
Mine Christ, needeth me.
ii.
More than ever
This time;
I must overcometh Satan
And release the scripture's sign's.
iii.
More than ever
These last day's;
I must telleth other's
Of the world's end, and the hope to makest thou amazed.
iv.
More than ever
Better now, then never;
I shalt bloweth the shofar
Beneath hell, above the star's.
v.
More than ever
This is mine letter;
For thou to awakest
And findeth Christ's salvation, by which thou canst enter.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Prohetic poetry
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 3:21 PM UTC
His world caved in
What he so eagerly
Tried to keep stable
His happiness was dimising
As the weight of the world
Held him down
He could not get up
His claustrophobia set
His breathing got shorter
He screams to the world
For modest help
But silence is returned
Untaken by the narssasistic
world, who only care of their own
Walk past a man who needeth help.
Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 1:01 PM UTC
i.
Within the oven
Wherein the thirst is never quenched;
Mine sweet Jane cooleth me
With her word's, and love to me meant.
ii.
I liveth for her the morrow
I liveth for her sunder the eve';
Her everything to me meaneth all thing's
She's the lifeblood, whom I need.
iii.
Mine aching body needeth her
Mine hand's, they needeth her feel;
A birthgiver to mine happiness
Mine gosh, her amour's so real.
iv.
**** beautiful, masterpiece of God
For her mine soul, belongeth to, and throb's;
I'll seeith her soon, in the Asian fogged dawn
I'll seeith mine muse, the pure one of God.
v.
She's all I desire, when the flood's do rain
She's the glory in sadness, in mine pain;
She's whom I liveth, when mine blood leak's
I canst sayeth none more, I'll let mine love speak.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication/mine Reyna/soul
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 8:36 PM UTC