"pinion" poems
.
A hard-on
doesn't count
as personal gro
wth.If you want
to hear the pitte
r - patter of littl
e feet, I'll put s
hoes on my cat.
This isn't an off
ice , it's hell wit
h florescent lig
hting.How do I
set a lazer prin
ter to stun? I m
ajored in Libera
l arts. Will that
be for here or t
o go? Too many
freaks, not eno
ugh circuses. I
have a comput
er, a ******** a
nd pizza delive
ry .Why should
I leave the hou
se? Stress is wh en you wake up scr
eaming and you re alize you haven't fal
*** asleep yet. I like dogs too . Let's exch
ange recipes. And yo u r c r y b a b y
whiny- assed o pinion is? Al
low me to intro duce my selves.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC
In glorious flight owning daylight
You magistrate freedom across
An ocean with your own box
Of twilight that you share
In a land of fish
A moonlit wish
With wings that
Kiss the
Sky
Throughout your expeditions to ground
Your voice is a dynamic sound
None can ignore your presence
What would Pandora say
When you sing that way?
Higher you fly
Distances
Many
Won't
Instruct us to use our heart compass
Open our eyes to perspective
Show us potential to live
When self-doubt is about
Like a grain of sand
May our cares be
Found without
A need
For
The liberty of our latitude
Is the length of our attitude
The way the wind blows effects
The direction we go
Our choices to be
Curiously
Ebb and flow
Waving
Lo
Behold a new dawn of bright feather
Consider the stormy weather
Notice how cloud and sun
Witness the Mother
Nature at play
Survey to
Coastal
Bay
May we find our way as you have shown
Limitless unbounded and flown
So shallow is the worry
No longer a fury
A calming has come
Soaring above
With truth in
Our hearts
Won
Riding the currents of emotions
Soaring aloft mental oceans
Wings spanned in physical worlds
Discover us great pearls
Of wisdom and poise
Joyful in noise
Good solid
Gifts of
Sage
Cleansing our spirits of past trifles
Being careful not to stifle
New growth with every gust gained
A quill, a crest, a quest
A mountain peaked with
Knowledge like the
Pier we are
Destined
To
A gate to become the best versions
Of our outstanding self-landing
Into the stars we have been
The fringe dust of pinion
Divine with the wind
Beginning free
And renewed
With no
End
© tHE tERRY tREE
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 9:15 PM UTC
PROMETHEUS (alone)
O holy Aether, and swift-winged Winds,
And River-wells, and laughter innumerous
Of yon Sea-waves! Earth, mother of us all,
And all-viewing cyclic Sun, I cry on you,--
Behold me a god, what I endure from gods!
Behold, with throe on throe,
How, wasted by this woe,
I wrestle down the myriad years of Time!
Behold, how fast around me
The new King of the happy ones sublime
Has flung the chain he forged, has shamed and bound me!
Woe, woe! to-day's woe and the coming morrow's
I cover with one groan. And where is found me
A limit to these sorrows?
And yet what word do I say? I have foreknown
Clearly all things that should be; nothing done
Comes sudden to my soul--and I must bear
What is ordained with patience, being aware
Necessity doth front the universe
With an invincible gesture. Yet this curse
Which strikes me now, I find it hard to brave
In silence or in speech. Because I gave
Honor to mortals, I have yoked my soul
To this compelling fate. Because I stole
The secret fount of fire, whose bubbles went
Over the ferrule's brim, and manward sent
Art's mighty means and perfect rudiment,
That sin I expiate in this agony,
Hung here in fetters, 'neath the blanching sky.
Ah, ah me! what a sound,
What a fragrance sweeps up from a pinion unseen
Of a god, or a mortal, or nature between,
Sweeping up to this rock where the earth has her bound,
To have sight of my pangs, or some guerdon obtain--
Lo, a god in the anguish, a god in the chain!
The god Zeus hateth sore,
And his gods hate again,
As many as tread on his glorified floor,
Because I loved mortals too much evermore.
Alas me! what a murmur and motion I hear,
As of birds flying near!
And the air undersings
The light stroke of their wings--
And all life that approaches I wait for in fear.
5.5k
In the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace—
Radiant palace—reared its head.
In the monarch Thought’s dominion—
It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair!
Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow,
(This—all this—was in the olden
Time long ago),
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
A winged odor went away.
Wanderers in that happy valley,
Through two luminous windows, saw
Spirits moving musically,
To a lute’s well-tuned law,
Bound about a throne where, sitting
(Porphyrogene!)
In state his glory well befitting,
The ruler of the realm was seen.
And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace door,
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,
And sparkling evermore,
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty
Was but to sing,
In voices of surpassing beauty,
The wit and wisdom of their king.
But evil things, in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch’s high estate.
(Ah, let us mourn!—for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him desolate !)
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
And travellers, now, within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows see
Vast forms, that move fantastically
To a discordant melody,
While, like a ghastly rapid river,
Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out forever
And laugh—but smile no more.
5k
NAY! swear no more, thou woman whom I called
Star, Empress, Wife! Were Dian's self to lean
From her white altar and with goddess lip
Swear thee as pure as her pale breast divine,
I could not deem thee purer than I know
Thou art indeed.
Once, when my triumphs rolled
Along old Rome and blood of roses washed
The battle-stains from off my chariot-wheels,
And triumph's thunders round my legions roared,
And kings in kingly ******* golden bound
Shook at my charger's foot, past the hot din
Of Victory-whose heart of golden pride in wound
Most subtly through with fire of subtlest pain-
My soul on prouder pinion rose above
The Roman shouting, to an air more clear
Than that Jove darks with hurtling thunderbolts,
Or stains with Jovian revels-that separate sphere,
Unshared of gods or man, where thy white feet
Caught their sole staining from my ruddy heart,
Blazing beneath them; where, when Rome looked up,
'Twas with the eyes close shaded with the hand,
As at some glory terrible and pure,-
For no man being pure, a terror dwells
Holy and awful in a sinless thing-
And Caesar's wife, the Empress-Matron, sat
Above a doubt-as high above a stain.
Nay! how know I what hell first belched abroad
Tall flames and slanderous vomitings of smoke,
Blown by infernal breathings, till they scaled
Thy throne of whiteness, and the very slaves
Who crouched in Roman kennels wagged the tongue
Against the wife of Caesar: 'Ha! we need not now
And opal-shaded stone wherewith to view
A stainless glory.' In that day my neck
Was bound and yoked with my twin-Caesar's yoke-
Man's master, Sorrow.
I know thee pure-
But Caesar's wife must throne herself so high
Upon the hills that touch their snowy crests
So close on Heaven that no slanderous Hell
Can dash its lava up their swelling sides.
I love thee, woman, know thee pure, but thou
No more art wife of Caesar. Get thee hence!
My heart is hardened as a lonely crag,
Grey granite lifted to a greyer sky,
And where against its solitary crown
Eternal thunders bellow.
3.7k
Long Valley lay outside my bedroom window
high desert Northern Nevada,
each sunrise
rose
brilliant red
spirals
spires
exploding
in the passing dawn,
to
the petroglyphs
we were drawn.
The asphalt became a dirt road
then the dirt road ended.
Along Long Valley
like some drive through zoo,
herds of wild burros
cattle
sheep
grazing
separated by Pinion pines
the white sage
the dust devils
and the tumble weeds
and a 52 Studebaker body
perfectly preserved
in the high desert dry air
one could only wonder how it got there.
Long Valley had its own expanse
its own vibration to the air
distinct and unique
filled with wonder
way out there.
The petroglyphs
10,000 year old drawings
at once was
the shores of ancient
Lake Lahontan
you could feel it there.
Trying to decipher
the lines and curly cues
circles and swirls
stars and shapes
of
an alien consciousness
from another land
another time.
This was no one rock
but
acres and acres
of generations
communicating with one another
the rocks worn away
from thousands of years of sitting
forming perfect lounge chairs,
perhaps sitting alongside
some receding shore line.
There were stone rock walls carefully stacked
mysteriously standing scattered
in the desert
no one knows what it really means.
While lost in the tones
the scents and vision
of the millennium,
on the hillside
through the Tamarack
and Pinion
there emerged
four wild mustangs
at a distance
on the top of the ridge
not those that wandered
into our Virgina City yards
But wild animals
tied to the horses of the millennium.
Power and Strength
spirit gods
reminding us of where we were.
The winds blew
the black mane
of the male in front
wet from sweat
chest heaving in breath
and then they were gone
over the hill
from where they had come.
The petroglyphs were silent.
The sounds of the winds
the sounds of the small stream
less than a drop
in the once Great Lahontan Sea.
Before the sun went down
we needed to leave
driving along the sides
of dry river beds
up rocky hillsides
along the electrical lines
to the dirt road
to the asphalt
as the Long Valley
sunset shot
spires of red.
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 10:26 AM UTC
Alow her open pinion's
I glanced aloft mine
View;
Her nimbus was lit
And around her Lip's:
Heaven's color's
Renewed.
O' the strap's from mine feet
Were removed, as I fell
Back in awe and
Wonder.
I remember the day
I saw her face, the innocence
Of God, the beauty and
Splendor.
Into her tropical gates
I entered yonder;
She gave me her love
As tis her love I took shelter.
Mine darling, mine lass; O'
Best friend, mine helper;
What wouldst I do, without
Thee mine Muse;
What wouldst I do;
O' what wouldst I
Do.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Sardua nagley dedicated( agapi mou)
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 7:02 PM UTC
Static whimpered then, now
was a moment, is and will be.
But in my deeper blue, waits a
Sapphire cesspool; waste and ivory
the Isle of Man, wades and drowns
silk swollen in the silence of still water,
through Hesperian greed and the tide
of golden apples.
In wandering, the cicada and cypress
grew in a moment's swan song,
Paradise was a pyre, and it was Winter
and the modern world.
And in what days of one day
would the enchantment bring-- of
the red faces and quivering tongues?
And what would the harpie bring--
icy tendrils of Spring to cool the flame?
A wretched smile, of the witness
blackened, knelt cradling his
head in his hands.
and in that moment, I was a lost man,
a lost man,
And then the happiest on the face of the Earth:
Now, the night is shallow.
****** is a breath, Eros is breathing, I am still.
Still
caught in the net of waking dreams,
when a binary sunset births the piercing tone,
of frequency high and ears hollow:
I was on my back, floating
and Death stood waiting
at the end.
Chariot yoked, pinion on pinion,
I gritted my teeth, unfurled my wings
and wept-- the mind is vengeance
As cruelty is the Mother of love.
and Now
stands waiting,
in the memory of himself.
A war is waged each moment,
with the echo of forever:
soul for soul,
talon for talon.
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 1:03 AM UTC
Breeze of the night in gentler sighs
More softly murmur o’er the pillow;
For Slumber seals my Fanny’s eyes,
And Peace must never shun her pillow.
Or breathe those sweet æolian strains
Stolen from celestial spheres above,
To charm her ear while some remains,
And soothe her soul to dreams of love.
But Breeze of night again forbear,
In softest murmurs only sigh:
Let not a Zephyr’s pinion dare
To lift those auburn locks on high.
Chill is thy Breath, thou breeze of night!
Oh! ruffle not those lids of Snow;
For only Morning’s cheering light
May wake the beam that lurks below.
Blest be that lip and azure eye!
Sweet ***** hallowed be thy Sleep!
Those lips shall never vent a sigh,
Those eyes may never wake to weep.
2.1k
Is it thy will that I should wax and wane,
Barter my cloth of gold for hodden grey,
And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain
Whose brightest threads are each a wasted day?
Is it thy will—Love that I love so well—
That my Soul’s House should be a tortured spot
Wherein, like evil paramours, must dwell
The quenchless flame, the worm that dieth not?
Nay, if it be thy will I shall endure,
And sell ambition at the common mart,
And let dull failure be my vestiture,
And sorrow dig its grave within my heart.
Perchance it may be better so—at least
I have not made my heart a heart of stone,
Nor starved my boyhood of its goodly feast,
Nor walked where Beauty is a thing unknown.
Many a man hath done so; sought to fence
In straitened bonds the soul that should be free,
Trodden the dusty road of common sense,
While all the forest sang of liberty,
Not marking how the spotted hawk in flight
Passed on wide pinion through the lofty air,
To where some steep untrodden mountain height
Caught the last tresses of the Sun God’s hair.
Or how the little flower he trod upon,
The daisy, that white-feathered shield of gold,
Followed with wistful eyes the wandering sun
Content if once its leaves were aureoled.
But surely it is something to have been
The best beloved for a little while,
To have walked hand in hand with Love, and seen
His purple wings flit once across thy smile.
Ay! though the gorged asp of passion feed
On my boy’s heart, yet have I burst the bars,
Stood face to face with Beauty, known indeed
The Love which moves the Sun and all the stars!
1.8k
The Nevada hillside
led me down
among the Pinion Pines
past the filled in
silver mine,
the cowboy coffee ***
on the ground.
The wind blew
through the trees
without a sound-
before my eyes,
I saw a sight,
as spider webs
one by one
one after another
spun
glimmering in the afternoon sun,
Spider webs
spiraling past,
Thinner than thin
stronger than strong,
Blowing from where?
Blowing to where?
Spun and spun
through that air.
A mustang came through the trees,
I looked at him
he looked at me -
These mountain hills
held
the echoes of dreams,
come and gone,
Spider webs blowing through the sun,
riding upon the horses of the silent winds.
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 10:37 AM UTC
Ere yet the morn its lovely blushes spread,
See Sewell number’d with the happy dead.
Hail, holy man, arriv’d th’ immortal shore,
Though we shall hear thy warning voice no more.
Come, let us all behold with wishful eyes
The saint ascending to his native skies;
From hence the prophet wing’d his rapt’rous way
To the blest mansions in eternal day.
Then begging for the Spirit of our God,
And panting eager for the same abode,
Come, let us all with the same vigour rise,
And take a prospect of the blissful skies;
While on our minds Christ’s image is imprest,
And the dear Saviour glows in ev’ry breast.
Thrice happy faint! to find thy heav’n at last,
What compensation for the evils past!
Great God, incomprehensible, unknown
By sense, we bow at thine exalted throne.
O, while we beg thine excellence to feel,
Thy sacred Spirit to our hearts reveal,
And give us of that mercy to partake,
Which thou hast promis’d for the Saviour’s sake!
“Sewell is dead.” Swift-pinion’d Fame thus cry’d.
“Is Sewell dead,” my trembling tongue reply’d,
O what a blessing in his flight deny’d!
How oft for us the holy prophet pray’d!
How oft to us the Word of Life convey’d!
By duty urg’d my mournful verse to close,
I for his tomb this epitaph compose.
“Lo, here a man, redeem’d by Jesus’s blood,
“A sinner once, but now a saint with God;
“Behold ye rich, ye poor, ye fools, ye wise,
“Not let his monument your heart surprise;
“Twill tell you what this holy man has done,
“Which gives him brighter lustre than the sun.
“Listen, ye happy, from your seats above.
“I speak sincerely, while I speak and love,
“He fought the paths of piety and truth,
“By these made happy from his early youth;
“In blooming years that grace divine he felt,
“Which rescues sinners from the chains of guilt.
“Mourn him, ye indigent, whom he has fed,
“And henceforth seek, like him, for living bread;
“Ev’n Christ, the bread descending from above,
“And ask an int’rest in his saving love.
“Mourn him, ye youth, to whom he oft has told
“God’s gracious wonders from the times of old.
“I too have cause this mighty loss to mourn,
“For he my monitor will not return.
“O when shall we to his blest state arrive?
“When the same graces in our bosoms thrive.”
1.8k
Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed
Their snow-white blossoms on my head,
With brightest sunshine round me spread
Of spring’s unclouded weather,
In this sequestered nook how sweet
To sit upon my orchard-seat!
And birds and flowers once more to greet,
My last year’s friends together.
One have I marked, the happiest guest
In all this covert of the blest:
Hail to Thee, far above the rest
In joy of voice and pinion!
Thou, Linnet! in thy green array,
Presiding Spirit here to-day,
Dost lead the revels of the May;
And this is thy dominion.
While birds, and butterflies, and flowers,
Make all one band of paramours,
Thou, ranging up and down the bowers,
Art sole in thy employment:
A Life, a Presence like the Air,
Scattering thy gladness without care,
Too blest with any one to pair;
Thyself thy own enjoyment.
Amid yon tuft of hazel trees,
That twinkle to the gusty breeze,
Behold him perched in ecstasies,
Yet seeming still to hover;
There! where the flutter of his wings
Upon his back and body flings
Shadows and sunny glimmerings,
That cover him all over.
My dazzled sight he oft deceives,
A brother of the dancing leaves;
Then flits, and from the cottage-eaves
Pours forth his song in gushes;
As if by that exulting strain
He mocked and treated with disdain
The voiceless Form he chose to feign,
While fluttering in the bushes.
1.6k
When morning wears crown,
with white light of early dawn
When the sun goes down,
and day removes its gown
When night shows frown,
and stars brighten up their town
i feel alone
i feel alone
When quaking eve arrives, i bemoan
there in no one of my own
When tantalizing spring,
glamorizes the lawn
Ah! all the desires, now have flown
None to reckon upon
like a bird, being tied to pinion
i feel alone
i feel alone
'In fall season,
when storms rigadoon
to me, no shelter is known
not any shoulder to rest on
When cuckoo sings,
in summer's morn
Indeed! I am hapless and forlorn
Life always glares with scorn'
I feel alone
I feel alone
alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alonealone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 12:54 AM UTC
Yes It is I the Notorious Break Down Queen
Been to every big city and every hick town in between
Broken down more times than a little bit
All I do is hurry up and wait but most of time is just sit
Waiting in the shop to get my truck repair
Must have open Pandora's Box. does anyone care?
clutch rod bent, steering rack and pinion went to crap
stuck in a truck that's a rolling death trap
Finally I get rolling thinking this must be a curse I'm under
Good God what that sound? My engine sounds like thunder
The Truck God's are against me I just know it
I'm so mad right now I could just spit
Injectors one through five and the turbo just blew
oil and fuel all over the hood and wind shield resembling something like glue
four days in the shop in San Larenzo California
3600 dollars later repair guy say "hers a nice little bill for ya"
Not long after the breaks got hot and the air chambers took a dump
must have had happened when I ignored that **** speed bump
now what all the indicator light just came on and my oil is low
maybe I should set fire to it and watch it burn slow
this is perfect I'm just in the nick of time
get into Gallup N.M hit the nearest bar and order a corona with a lime
My truck is fixed and I'm ready to roll
I just pray when I back out I don't hit a poll
In Arkansas In a town of population 12 and one **** dog
Hung up on the rail road tracks due to the heavy fog
Two cranes later they send me on my way
a rock hit my wind shield I guess in Chicago I'll stay
Sick and tired of the hotels motels and shops
trailer lights are out get escorted by the Indianapolis city cops
Broke down again and not a penny to my name
have a water leak which I cannot tame
Held captive against my will in Atlanta for I am pleading
only for them to tell me i have a low voltage reading
will it ever come to an end I will never freaking know
almost in Minersville, PA plowed in by 9 inches of snow
A mixture of all the minor and major stuff
This makes my job that more tough
the little fixes and the big repairs in between
Now you know how I got my name the
Notorious Breakdown Queen.
Nov 17, 2009
Nov 17, 2009 at 8:47 AM UTC
Oh! yes, I will own we were dear to each other;
The friendships of childhood, though fleeting, are true;
The love which you felt was the love of a brother,
Nor less the affection I cherish’d for you.
But Friendship can vary her gentle dominion;
The attachment of years, in a moment expires:
Like Love, too, she moves on a swift-waving pinion,
But glows not, like Love, with unquenchable fires.
Full oft have we wander’d through Ida together,
And blest were the scenes of our youth, I allow:
In the spring of our life, how serene is the weather!
But Winter’s rude tempests are gathering now.
No more with Affection shall Memory blending,
The wonted delights of our childhood retrace:
When Pride steels the ***** the heart is unbending,
And what would be Justice appears a disgrace.
However, dear George, for I still must esteem you—
The few, whom I love, I can never upbraid;
The chance, which has lost, may in future redeem you,
Repentance will cancel the vow you have made.
I will not complain, and though chill’d is affection,
With me no corroding resentment shall live:
My ***** is calm’d by the simple reflection,
That both may be wrong, and that both should forgive.
You knew, that my soul, that my heart, my existence,
If danger demanded, were wholly your own;
You knew me unalter’d, by years or by distance,
Devoted to love and to friendship alone.
You knew,—but away with the vain retrospection!
The bond of affection no longer endures;
Too late you may droop o’er the fond recollection,
And sigh for the friend, who was formerly yours.
For the present, we part,—I will hope not for ever;
For time and regret will restore you at last:
To forget our dissension we both should endeavour,
I ask no atonement, but days like the past.
1.2k
*The heat of the Sun,
is just an illu-sion.
The heat of the Sun,
is just something they say.*
THE HEAT OF THE SUN!
...heat of the sun,
...heat of the sun,
...of the Su-uh-un.*
We're walk-ing in light,
light of the allu-sion,
Pinion's of the fire now,
-pin me to the ground.
Laying here in the light,
surrounded by the con-fusion.
*The heat of the Sun,
is just an illu-sion.
The heat of the Sun,
is just something they say.*
THE HEAT OF THE SUN!
...heat of the sun,
...heat of the sun,
...of the Su-uh-un.*
Arise from the ash-es,
the dawning a new one,
Fire-sticks always turn-ing,
spin-ning with no sound?
STAND-ING WHILE ON FIRE!
feathery ashes, ***** the light.
Night of the allu-sion,
all the pain and confusion,
They two be-come fusion,
is just something they say!
*The heat of the Sun,
is just an illu-sion.
The heat of the Sun,
is just something at day.*
THE HEAT OF THE SUN!
...heat of the sun,
...heat of the sun,
...of the Su-uh-un.
**THE HEAT OF THE SUN!
IS JUST SOMETHING THEY SAY!
THE HEAT OF THE SUN!
IT DIES WITH THE DAY!
HEAT OF THE SUN,
HEAT OF THE SUN,
HEAT OF THE SUN,**
...heat of the Su-uh-un...
Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 9:40 PM UTC
Some swain art twain
Though we art sole;
Some liveth on sand,
Ourn foundation's
Whole.
Some swain art lost
To temporal sight;
Though ourn birth's
Were matched, to
Meeteth in light.
Burst's that trickled,
Out from divinity,
Christ's foreordained-
Eachother to greet.
Strap's upon toes
Dirt to ourn feet;
Off the planet-
démodé; to
Those who
Hath gold
For safe
Keeps.
Remote from another,
By the blue polluted
Welkin; thus one day
We knoweth, ourn
Pinion's shalt be
As falcon's.
Splitting general edicts,
Trusting in God's rule;
Dying to the globe-
Blithe and mellow
Fool's.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 8:08 PM UTC
Cherry nosed serapth,
Is there room on thy pinion for me?
For canst I dream?
As all other flutters,
Worse/off or for better I'm tired of such shudersome tarry,
For art thou any to marry who won't abscond?
To pull me from ponds?
Wherein zealots doth not percolate.....
For I guess I'm late..
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 6:25 PM UTC
Amorous one, bedight me in snug linen
Canopy me in thy oriental pinion's;
A ditty for thee, I writeth in this amour
For thou hath let me in, and opened thine door.
Forsooth, we shalt be lover's in cinema Booth's
Letting go of ourn past, cutting ropes, untying the noose;
Thither the jungle's we shalt be missionarie's, exemplary
No thwarting to enter in the tropical orient gate's
Openness cherished, withy exotic plant's to fit ourn date;
Don't be late amare, thou canst put up, or keep down thy hair
For thou shalt blend the forest's, as no makeup for thee is needed.
Thou shalt quench me by thy tan colored painted skin
Betrothing another, fused bodie's together, preparing perfume;
Locked behind ourn own wall, leaving the world in back room
Other's think we're dead, because ourn spirit's from tombs, alive.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry/
あある じぇえん
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 3:11 PM UTC
i.
O'er the the Almighty's siege-
A baetyl soared, betwixt the
Floor's, of aqua green; swith
I was fixed, upon her wing's.
ii.
O' this queen-struck me, with
Her baculus, conducting, a calefacient
calix, thus the welkin carved the omnipresent
Out from me and Jane's pinion's.
iii.
Camaca Atman's, coursing
The future together; sacchariferous
Of the celestial, making love, mating-
Doves, bygone messenger's, sending
An amour' letter.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedication
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 8:29 PM UTC
Moon butcher- weaned on courting flesh from safe
viewing, whistling to draw the blinds over fettered
flocks, all whose beaks are wired. Upon his eyes, a
monastic charm, cuffed by all means toward profane
morality, are his deeds and are his perfect misdoings.
And in the most miserable quarters of the mind,
along sad shrines where these supple thoughts are
stowed and ferried as the cattle he should drive;
Bird killer.
How mad you are– crimp hearted figure, without
lament for tattered homes and frayed hulls of a child's
laughter, pulled from heavy sacks. But all are beaten dogs
on morbid eyes, clubbed all with gentle hands and choked
with deft ideals-malformed. How artful though, that no
pinion primed should go clipped, nor aviaries-bold should
hold them here, but only should their minds be tainted–
Made whole in mechanics-belt driven. Just stay and take
my woeful Ode: Tyranny be your maxim; conformity be
our dying ways.
Dark ways; made so dark only in their leaden glare, that all
should turn and close their eyes for night. Monolithic as
mauled humans, ravished as the bark of black Willows and
pawing tides‒ all an empty obelisk of horrors-makeshift.
Pavlovian; cold soup; torn rags on the dashboard‒ and
for miles upon miles, ravaged quill over sunken hills, the
feathers poured here as ink into my ebbing dreams. Though,
to think yet that all had been warm upon a day, now too
distant and criminal. Too nefarious for notion, to hold
wolves for wool, and kooks for feathers stalked to hiding.
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 2:20 PM UTC
I'm all alone
Within my soul I groan --
With a star-tide inside a stagnant sea;
Far till a maiden with the flushes of love there came Mèlanie:
Far till a maiden with the gushes of Lament's dove be name Mèlanie:
Oh, dim grew light
From the astral night
As the radiant Utopian orbs rain
In Astarte's vain
Upon the tinted pearling moon
Twinkling in our mystic noon, --
Whereas I touched with the lips of my own to Mèlanie:
Whereas I kiss Death's eclipse in the eyes alone of Mèlanie:
As of right now,
Be never to vow --
'Cause her winged-fabric soul
With the fiery pinion-foul,
May we burn naked ablaze in a fountain hole
And forever be draining our blood together, I and Mèlanie:
Forever be bound to the wrist and chain together, I and my Mèlanie:
Jun 28, 2011
Jun 28, 2011 at 12:49 PM UTC
i
Aloof aback the nether antechamber
Abaddon tried to calleth out mine name
Aba composition's awoke from smoke
Whilst nephilim brutes were left untamed.
ii
They bit me and they gripped me with
Their nail's of poison and polunium whip's
Through the old agaric horror play oubliette
Obelisk's, of troglodyte monstrosity!!!!
iii
The nearing was open, yet to far off
I felt the crimson color, up mine lung's I coughed
Mine calumus pinion's all were eventually lost
For I was mocked, as the legion scoffed.
iv
Scourged I was, as mine back was chopped
Like glass bead's hitting a gentle rock
They cracked mine sweetly frame, and made a pop
Mine soul was dying, mine head was lost.
v
Yet in the destination of this witching hour
Cameth in Gabriel and Michael of all unknown power's
They arrayed this hell with celestial shower's
They freed me of mine inferno, and tooketh me to the higher sire.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry.....
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 7:56 AM UTC