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The Lightning playeth—all the while—
But when He singeth—then—
Ourselves are conscious He exist—
And we approach Him—stern—

With Insulators—and a Glove—
Whose short—sepulchral Bass
Alarms us—tho’ His Yellow feet
May pass—and counterpass—

Upon the Ropes—above our Head—
Continual—with the News—
Nor We so much as check our speech—
Nor stop to cross Ourselves—
stéphane noir Feb 2015
oh dear one
lost across the sea
so unknown to me,
how fair thy little mind
thinketh and playeth thy harp!

no man shall raise a hand to thee!
least ye scorn him,
banishing him
and his brazen knuckles
to the brazen edge of
the whole brazen universe.
shy be he not!
lameth shall he be forever.

but two shovels should be found
and used for to dig unto the ground,
a new grave: doubly wide and doubly deep
for two of the fairest of them all:
the maidens lost to the wilderness,
left to her own devices and thus
self-deprecating her selves
into planetary alignment
with that new planet they just found
that's like 1,000 times bigger than Saturn
and with millions of icy rings.
forever cold shall she be!
forever unknown to me!

bear witness to thy handiwork:
my shoulders, lips, and toenails are all mine;
for a moment they were thine
and in breaking my peace
i thus aireth my whine.
and i'm fine. really, i'm fine.

taketh no liberties with me!
giveth no light,
shareth no warmth!
beseech me no inquiries!
for i have not an answer that makes sense,
nor a limb that works perfectly,
and not a day goes by
that i don't ponder you.

yet
the
moon
pondereth
the
sun
forever
and
ever
and
ever
bu­t
never
the
two
shall
meet.


wandereth, fair maiden,
and i shall wander, too.
but should you face about
my eyes will surely see you.
"a dog in the hunt doesn't stop to scratch its fleas."
brandon nagley Jul 2015
i

Sophisticated not as metal-steel mechanic's
Not a domestic to gargoyle theology
She's a seraph, who only knoweth pure.

ii

The Luna to her is her finer amare
The DNA of life passes through her hair
As she playeth truth and dare with her own self.

iii

She seeketh none help, a woman of God
Foresee's the hero's from slob's
As men around her mob, like a desert after dinner!

iv

Though sorry boy's she's mine
I claimed her long ago
When this palace was broken by lazor night show, I held her...

v

She's tender as a flower
Tis I waiteth for her throughout the hour's
The coward's do try her, to hurt her, yet I wilt never break someone so tender....



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Elsa angelica dedication
Loveth thee with flowers
wilted round your
theatre borne

Thou hast listen
to the romantic soul
to old indian songs
thee playeth the prophecies
drumming on windchimes
and dream lodges
all along

Lovely to see me
maketh me grin!
when the angulo
hahahahas
you sneaketh
inside
grabeth me!
rollin' and spinin

making my day

simile to this widest smile
present's to taketh miself
to the moonlit skies

Thoughts thus
transported us
to futuristic realms
of imagineth energy
sipping too real

For noweth
I
am embraced
by the photons
and waves

'cause
my darling seeps
melodies strumming
n' fingerin strings

I would loveth thee
dearly if you were
nearer to me.
Imagined by
Impeccable Space Poetic Beauty
brandon nagley Mar 2016
i.

Mine forefinger is tapping the olden transelic piano Key's,
The room Grecian white, with an oriental shorite; her voice
Is soft, her halo's aloft the lid of mine musical box. As tis I playeth "Unchained Melody"'by the Righteous Brothers, ourn pupil's art jubilant; soulmates igniting together.       Brandon! Brandon!

ii.

She calleth out mine name.
The aria gets louder,
The habitation wherein we liveth,
Smileth upon us;
As affections groweth fonder.

iii.

Ourn flesh wrapped like nests,
Of a bird's home in wonder.
Gazing up into the the hereafter,
One day happiness there we to shalt
Conquer.

iv.

As mine angelic host
Lift's me up to the celestial yonder;
I heareth her feather's flapping with the cherub's,
Ourn amour splitting sky's, as lightning with the thunder.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( agapi mou) dedication
Transelic- is a word I created like I always like to do. This word means ( transparent and angelic) or transparently angelic.
Grecian- anything to do with Greece.
Shorite- word I made up means ( a shining light so beautiful, It can bring anyone to tears.)
Aloft means- overhead.
Aria means+ a long, accompanied song for a solo voice, typically one in an opera or oratorio.....
Wherein- means in which.
Hereafter- life after death. ( looking forward to heaven together, as being here together.. )
brandon nagley Jul 2015
Tis
This is a dear dedication to a woman who's like an auntie to me
Thou might knoweth her,
Her name's (soul survivor)
She understandeth me,
As I understandeth her...
She's a woman of pure love
An angel not meant for ourn world..
As there art only few Angels left
Who walk amongst as me
She giveth thee all a message
To love,
Forgive and be free!!!
I've seen so many tryeth to hurt her
Because of their own misery and pain!!!
Though I must sayeth that maketh her stronger
So its best for the taunter's to go away!!!
The one's who mock her
Mock her for her spiritual belief!!!
Her belief on showing love to even the hating one's
To the liar's
Pain bringer's
And thieves...
She's outspoken
That's why me and her get along
We're on the same page
We playeth the same tune
Of peace and kindness shown.
Some calleth her a Jesus freak
Though tis its (jesus) who forgives even those who hate,
So before thyself picks on soul-survivor
Taketh a look at thy own misery plate..
She giveth thee truth
And thineself turneth away,
We need more spirits like her
For her to be displayed....
She hath many friends here
Such as mine non-perfect self,
But soul thou ever needeth a friend
I'll be here for thee to help!!!
As soo many seem to be quick to judgeth her
Though they don't knoweth she's in mental pain because her wonderful mother is sick,
So be not quick to judge
An angel in thy presence...
Soul, thou art like an auntie to me
As I've said this before
May God shine his light inside thee
Let him walketh beside thee,
Forgive and continue to love those lost and broken ones
Who knoweth not thy souls real and for sure!!!!
Dedication to a good friend im praying for
Megan Parson Jan 2021
~°~°~°~

The rosy bride didn't pace the hall,
Nor was there a wedding ball.
No bridesmaids, no flower girls,
Nor did I wear my mothers pearls.

For without the groom,
Playeth not the loud bassoon,
Tis the words that played,
While my heart like thunder relayed.

Melancholy, like Caesar, did I feel,
Piercing eyes, put forth the deal,
Closer to a faint, did I reel,
And like Calpurnia, I now kneel.

Hoping you'll read this through,
Hardly ebbing the feelings, I grew.

~°~°~°~

Commit I, what I detest,
& leave you culprit, like in Gone Girl.
Painful thoughts, my mind did protest,
To new ventures, it would whirl.

A letter of love & apology,
on the very last day.
bearing, like Juliet's analogy,
Concealed beneath the fray.

'What ifs' sadly got the better,
But letter, tis the right way!
Or so I thought, while my mind did fetter,
To take action, a letter will I lay...

Sans number or address,
To test you, cuz love finds a way.
But this too, did I redress,
The masts somewhere else will sway.

"Don't be so ******* him,
Leave your number deep within."
"No, no, that'll make him dim,
give not even the pin."

Yet another did say,
"Leave clues, in & out,
work em woe till the gray."
These nasty devils dashed about.

~°~°~°~

At last did I none,
But write this terrific pun.
I know you know what I did
last summer. That has rid,

All that went on for the past 3 years?
Reality had become my fears,
Alas you believe the deed is done,
But you're right, you weren't the one.

If you had the patience,
To read this till the end.
Sans showing indifference,
Gratitude, I do extend.

By now, far away I'll be,
If Shrek could reach, so could you to me,
But there's a reason, it's a fantasy.
So goodbye, cuz I see,
Life has bigger plans for me.

~°~°~°~
Hey guys! Back after a looooong break & writers block. This poem was inspired by The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, an all time favorite ❤️
Eyji Noblesmith Feb 2020
Out of the shadows, thou dost
After all times that thou lorned;
I hate mirrors and thee most
When fourteenth sun doeth horn—

When bright roses all afire'th
And sugars playeth with the air,
I condemn this very life
Whom of envy and unfair,

The lyrics from every tongue
Of just happy and in love,
To me biteth as the fang
Of thy serpent, of my scythe!

The scent of February
And its fortnight willeth come,
Subtle shade of jealousy
Upon all the Earth and man

Oh Valentine, thou hurteth
Thy caitiff flesh and spirit!
Oh, the fourteenth sun shall set
And our roads are to split!

Wilt thou come again?
A lonely Valentines Day

— The End —