"restfulness" poems
Ladybug, where does thine own self dwell? Thou art quiet, defiant; a leader of the pack of colorful shells.
Thou hast lined the wall's with thine wing's spread far wide, thou hath tried to flyeth, yet only end back from whence thou began!!!Creature no one understands.
Flourisher of restfulness, gathering knowledge to gain speed. After all no one seeith the smallest beauty such as thyself! Doth thou need help?
Is thy destination predetermined as mine feels? You'd walk slower in heel's if that was the case......
You'd rush the highest branch to calleth the view thine own place!!!
Such a lonesome face, thy cataract's seeith in all views... Old and new, ugly and complete!!! You've seen all brokenness and defeat! Haven't you the smallest of loves?
Angel of bugs, spotted ladybug of mine.......
©Lonesome poets poetry
©brandon Nagley
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 7:34 AM UTC
Where the lines blur, and pages end
where I cannot see a future anymore
for us
where the light and darkness come
and pass as time, here it is only grey
inside
There used to be a window where
a sparrow hid at light-crack by the sill
and sang
shrilly in the morning, he would sing
calling in the light of God, he’d sing
for us
The silence has grown thick, shaved ragged
potential, daydreams posed as promises
sharp was the resonation of our love
sharp are vile weapons and words drawn
between us now
Betrayal finds its way upon my tongue
I’d spit it out before it turns to venom
I’d have to say you’re poison to me now
left with nothing but constriction and a
failing heart
Were you my elixir, but a count of days before?
How sweet the lily of the valley’s scent
how pure is her white compilation of
forever restfulness, the peaceful trickery
and death
I’d say it’s time to lay this love to rest
Place flowers at the feet of mounds of earth
seal the wound of expecting hearts, we were
bleeding fluid prayers upon the stones
Attempting to bring the dead
Back to life
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 9:19 AM UTC
Nothing is as beautiful as the transformation of the human face.
The journey of a smile as it licks at the lips and dances into the eyes.
The adventure of laughter as it opens the mouth and tickles the throat.
The reclusiveness of sadness as it travels down the cheeks and wets them with tears.
The intensity of concentration as it furrows the brow and quickens the breath.
The turmoil of fear as it flares the nostrils and grinds the teeth.
The restfulness of sleep as it closes the eyelids and brings relief.
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 1:33 AM UTC
Nestled in a pencil case
And snuggled up in fluff
There snoozed a tiny pirate man
Of legendary stuff
He'd spied the hidden secrets
And trod the haunted shore
Blu-tack Beard the buccaneer
Scourge of the open floor
He stole a shoe-box galleon
And sailed the carpet blue
With pencil mast and paper sails
And crayons as his crew
They forayed on the crooked tiles
And crested every ridge
Blu-tack Beard the scallywag
The raider of the fridge
When moored up in the kitchen
With all his crew around
The captain showed to one and all
A treasure map he'd found
It bore a chart of distant parts
And quite a course it plot
It pointed to the bathroom lands
And tip-ex marked the spot
They crammed the hold with cornflakes
To feed them on their trip
They pulled hard on the piece of string
And weighed the paperclip
The crew they dragged their boat aloft
On neatly woven hairs
Blu-tack Beard the privateer
Surmounter of the stairs
They heaved their vessel restlessly
Atop the final brow
The crayon pirates caught their breath
And leaned against her bow
Then scaled tiny ladders
And each took to their post
Blu-tack Beard was at the helm
And watched the foreign coast
Through countless minutes voyaging
There loomed the bathroom door
They slacked the sail and went below
And each took to an oar
They pulled a mighty rhythm
Till their waxy arms were numb
And Blu-tack Beard the plunderer
Was beater of the drum
But though they pried in every nook
And each last inch of grout
They skirted round the skirting board
They tapped each silver spout
Illusive was their bounty
And they grew ever the crueller
They took their skipper angrily
And made him walk the ruler
He landed glum and ruefully
Amid the ***** socks
He heard the merry spiteful sound
Of laughing, taunting mocks
And saw the sight of mutiny
With waxen little smiles
Blu-tack Beard the cast-away
Alone among the tiles
He commandeered a washing cloth
And weaved himself a rope
He scaled the dreaded washstand
And stole a bar of soap
He carved himself a coracle
And set his sights on home
Blu-tack Beard the wanderer
Awash amid the foam
He slithered down the stairwell
And landed with a plan
For warmer climes and restfulness
A cocktail and a tan
And so he met his final port
Right then did he retire
Blu-tack Beard the pensioner
Of the warm spot near the fire
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
ISOLATION from others is
When you are all ALONE,
In your OWN PRIVATE PLACE,
Your INNER PEACE IS SHOWN!!
A CALMNESS of HAPPINESS
when you are at your OWN PEACE,
COMFORT and CONTENTMENT,
and when FRUSTRATIONS CEASE!!
A Feeling of SERENITY,
The STATE of
TRANQUILITY, FELICITY,
of BALANCE and
also STABILITY!!!
A sense of PEACEFULNESS,
WELL-BEING and BLISS,
You are at your own PEACE,
A Feeling of RESTFULNESS!!!
B.R.
Date: 12/2/2023
Sep 12, 2024
Sep 12, 2024 at 3:22 PM UTC
1:38pm Sabbath Mar 25 2023
*it was in no vast eternal plan, no signed signal,
that this day, this moment, this infusion of
a hymn would I compose, lyrics praiseworthy,
to my god, my creator…my single life-long companion.*
*mine hymn of tribute, hymn of mystery,
words of uplift suffusing, abundant abide within,
music straightens my back, eyes tear-glisten,
how come this joy unconstrained, so affecting?*
*the wonder of this mystery, the wander of soul,
how be it all that troubles retreats, a waving-bye tide taken,
both emptied and fulfilled, in simultaneous simplicity,
I am confirmed, ascertained, relieved, even revived!*
*at the intersection of rising divinity, insistent human frailty,
at the crossroads of pure perfection, permanent imperfection,
the impermanence of this meeting quickens, gladdens, knowing
a glancing touch of god’s finger both enlivens and yet blankets.*
***my entire substance, composition, neath a comforter of good,
in a calming restfulness, with the knowing grace that this will pass,
my hymn marks my forehead permanent, that just once I moved in a place, not twixt, not tween, but a perfect firmament nearer my god***…
Mar 25, 2023
Mar 25, 2023 at 3:26 PM UTC
What desirous riches we crave
to return our destinies
for paradise
sights and nights,
filled with glittering starry portals
And to feel the air of day and night
abound with blissful
restfulness and sleep
Ooh how we
dream
note that dreaded dream
but dreams of peace at rest
Aaaah to
return only within a second
and relearn what nature has to give
and only what we're allowed to take
And to listen to the shakers of the earth
growl their pristine craves
And to feel that solemn rest once more
the return to freshened softened earth around our barefoot
toes
and to regain freedom spatial
b o u n d l e s s n e s s LOST but only
regained at last in dreams reposed...
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 9:34 PM UTC
In her galaxy I Effervesce, free-floating, I've bypassed the gales, and the darkest guest's. Though Hell still tryeth to taketh mine flesh, I've found mine abode, inside mine Reyna's trove; now in placid tranquillity, restfulness. I've entered into her Fumulus, o'er the gallery's of gloaming light's, yonder her smile, in the striking of night. As tis, she hath given me insight to be better, to doeth better, as tis she is mine better, I've sent mine amare to her in the form; of the most romantic letter........
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
You’re swimming, okay,
And the Bible suddenly opens up.
Not many people are faced with this,
Except you: you’re an exception.
How do you take it?
Barely, would the sublime horror of communion pass on your lips
Once the ocean take its Leviathan form, and it opens its mouth to speak.
Its oratory becomes very clear in the maelstroms of countless gallons
Rushing blue cannibalizes itself before you; you have no time to think of death
When the salt’s burning your eyes and you’ve finally figured
How useful a gyroscope can be.
Too soon, three darknesses will emerge from the desolate homily
Taught not to discriminate in thought or action: the backs of your eyes
Straining against the buoyancy, the restfulness of not seeing a bottom,
And the path Jonah’s bones took, the disbeliever.
Mostly, you’ll want to congratulate yourself like a legend,
You wonderful piece of **** when you come in crashing on the waves.
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 11:54 AM UTC
The intonation and vibration of these steel strings
Resonates through my lungs making it easier to breathe,
Resonates through my blood so I can see the unseen.
All I have are these songs of sweet melody,
Of clamoring hardship,
Of cold steel tearing open my heart
With terrible and beautiful violence,
Of warm lips pressing against my ear
Singing me to sleep,
Of beats that drop like bombs in an empty desert,
And of cool water that flows over my feet
Resting these two weary wanderers so tired of the gravity
That wrests them to the coarse earth.
More beautiful than the notes and words,
The space between,
The vacuum of silence
Where one can digest what has been heard,
The freedom of silence
And the restfulness of infinity in one single moment.
The stillness between the movements is where I yearn to be,
But I must create the movements for this stillness to be reached.
The composition evolves from dissonant to harmonious,
From chaotic to orderly,
From nothing to nothing with everything in between.
The spine splitting wars of notes out of tune
Are corrected by the Wise Composer;
Not a single chord contains a weak link
When the Work is perfected.
All I have is this music.
All I need is this music.
Nov 20, 2011
Nov 20, 2011 at 11:11 AM UTC
IN MOMENTNESS OF BREATHLESS PURE PASSION,
SLIDING ON KNIFE EDGE OF MASCULINE FAILURE,
YE MADE ALL DISSAPPEAR ,
WITH SIMPLE SPOKEN RESTFULNESS,
ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD TO WAIT,
WILL YOU BE THERE???,
ALL FROM A SOLITARY SITUATION,
WITHIN MINDS FEARFUL EYE,
WORDS RIGHTLY DISPENSE FEAR OF FEAR,
UNTIL NOW ALWAYS WORDS FROM ME,
NOW SHOWN WORDS FROM YE HAVE POWER OVER ME,
ALL WHILE RESTING ON SWEET BREAST,
BROW SOAKED IN SWEAT,
REASSURANCE IN EVERY BREATH.
Mar 8, 2010
Mar 8, 2010 at 6:32 AM UTC
One wrong word
Is a knife to my skin
An angry response
Brings self hatred
Tears falling from
Hurting you
Yelling at you
Hating myself with each moment
Blood
My blood
Flows from wounds
Brings me satisfaction
Beings me restfulness
Punishment for my anger
Blades against my skin
The hatred fades
To justification
Gauze
Tape
To hide the punishment
The blood
Healing begins
My little secret
My blood sacrifice
Burns inside me
I will not tell them
They will not know
Anytime soon
I will not worry them
They do not need pain
I deserve it
For my anger
My hatred
My mistakes
I don't care if other people
Make mistakes at me
They don't cut themselves for it
Or do they?
I don't know
I won't ask
I hope someday
My anger will dissipate
I will be able to love
Instead of hating myself
I hate the bleeding
I hate the cuts
I hate the scars
Some day I will break out
Of this cycle
I will be able and free
To be MYSELF
Not the "perfect" daughter
Friend or companion
No one will ask me to be perfect
And if they do
I won't care a bit
I can't be perfect
I want to be free
My anger holds me down
Break it
Break the anger
Set me free
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 11:21 PM UTC
I think they call it Love.
Love is what this must be.
Only an Angel can cause these feelings,
Very deep inside of me.
Eternity with you?
Yes. You and only me.
Observing life with you,
Understanding what happiness can be.
Restfulness while I'm in your arms,
And recklessness when I'm away.
Coping when I'm not with you.
Hoping to see you another day.
Evidently, this feeling has quietly taken over me.
Love is what this is, love is what this must be.
Aug 21, 2011
Aug 21, 2011 at 4:42 AM UTC
He put his head in his mother's lap,
closed his eyes, and was lost.
He felt a velvety, comforting
restfulness, beginning to spread
behind his eyelids, and over his body.
He evaporated, and was in the womb,
once again. In that musical womb,
where he was, before the duality of identity.
His mother's hand caressing his hair,
felt to him, like something he had experienced
when the ocean breeze touched him, but more intimate.
He lost his name then, and was lost to everyone.
Only his mother knew, where he was in those moments...
© Manan sheel.
Jan 15, 2019
Jan 15, 2019 at 5:37 PM UTC
To the Victorian poets of Decadence:
I love you, you who conquered lands unknown,
spread diseases, plagues full-blown;
you who revelled
in the unbearable lushness of being
sensuous and decadent, kings
of insidious words, slipping sweetly,
sliding slickly
into the narrow channels of the outraged public brain.
Ah how I love you, you who exhilarated
in deep despair; woe to the nightingale immortalised!
Who yet found meaning in dark emptiness,
rallying 'round with the cry of 'Art for art's sake!'
And so you, bridled with emotion, eat your cake,
fuming with bright, bitter melancholy,
never gaining the intimacy
and restfulness you so craved.
I think I love you because I understand you,
you who search relentlessly through
the victorious squalor of life that will not cede
control to your grasping hands
but jostles greedily to conquer virtuous lands.
Run away Prudence, Chastity and Grace!
Fall to your knees, hang your head, hide your face,
let shame overtake you, for Faith is a cuss word, you've decided.
And so, you arrogant men who surrender
to the hedonist's depraved desires, you pleasure seeker,
dearest sybarite, no mere voluptuary,
You whose gilt-edged poetry tongues my heart,
whose heady sensitivity makes me start,
and long for the things of the world I should not cannot want,
I love you unto madness, to distraction, to a slant-
ing of morals, to giving in and giving up.
I fall, a long way down.
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 12:41 AM UTC
My journey finally came to its bitter end
I fell to the ground and deteriorated
I slipped deep into restfulness of soul
Surprisingly up from my after pile
A beautiful fungus forms
My wormed over residual self
From the ashes reborn
This is my new breath!
Order out of my Chaos
...............
Nov 1, 2020
Nov 1, 2020 at 5:24 AM UTC
he is my heart's pray...
seeks that beutifle sole.
wants to linger on his side
the way my blood runs sweet for himmm
every inch i taste and kiss i steal away from this masterpiece.
this lust i have upon his doings,
full of so much love my heart wants to embrace. every breath, I wants to fill thus heart agents me ,tha restfulness of soft long breathing of my stud.
this magnificence beautiful loving man May jump in his sleep as i May gock at him. as May he shall dream.
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 5:38 AM UTC
All I want to do is make You proud
but I am stuck sitting on fences.
I can't seem to stand fast in the straight
So I stay, just getting splinters
I'm stuck somewhere between
who I am and who I want to be
And the answers are so clear
but they always seem out of reach
So I grasp at indecision
all the while my choices break Your heart
And every day I stay in the middle
the further we are...apart
But You never leave me
even though it kills You to watch me live
And when I come crawling back
all Your love You'll give
You'll coax me into restfulness
and I'll be rebuked by Your perfection
And my bruised and broken spirit
healed and resurrected
But again and again I let You down
living in foolish pride
While all the time you watch
my sin, in vain, I try and hide
I keep making my mistakes
and You keep picking me up off the floor
And how wretched I can be won't matter
Because You'll always love me more
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 9:42 AM UTC
I distress myself not.
Vote legitimate if only thy true fate be known.
Spotlight awarded to thou unfavorable,
rather than attainment awarded.
Could'st cheerfulness no more become thee?
Yearned is thy cheerfulness to wax
a particle within thee.
However,
stuck be not.
Concern it no longer that my presence
be present or nay,
nevertheless what thy art feel remains of substance
to me.
thy stratagem ploy thee play
composing me the villain all round?
Absurd much?
Ventured me out of me restfulness
in search of contentment
moreover,
thy mental stability.
Yet it be my fault.
All be unceasingly my fault.
Me make thee despise me.
Me make thee shove me away
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 9:42 AM UTC
I've known you for some time now, and my feelings have begun to grow.
Like the hair upon my head, like the mould on a loaf of bread.
Creeping, creeping, into my mind.
When I'm lost it's in you I find.
Restfulness and tranquillity, like the vastness of the deep blue sea.
I feel so at ease, like I've known you for years.
It's as though we've been together all our life.
It doesn't matter you have another as close as a wife.
I need you around, you make me feel so sound.
Your soft, calming and mood enhancing.
We have a connection you and I.
How this happened I don't know why.
Now you're here I can't undo what I feel.
Hooked like a fish at the end of a reel.
I'm falling into the blue, of your eyes, I'm hypnotised.
Your hair, your face, your deep warm embrace.
I'm struggling to keep myself balanced.
When I learn of your many more talents.
You amaze and intrigue me all the time.
I'm completely drawn in by your smile.
We make each other laugh, and understand each other well.
I never thought I would have such rapport,
with someone I just got to know.
It turns out you're the one I adore, and you feel the same.
There must be a reason into my life you came.
What am I to do?
It almost makes me feel blue.
I don't know if I can share you with another?
All these thoughts, my mind they do smother.
Sharing is caring, or so they say.
I'm not sure if I can have it that way.
It's driving me mad, all of this is true.
Yet still I keep on falling, falling, falling for you...
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC
I sway
Like on a swing
On the brink of sleep
My mind carries me motionless
And when reality calls
It rips me out of my pendulum state
Elevates my heart rate
Claims my restfulness and
Clutches onto the thoughts that I can't seem to lay
And as I slowly pry each clawing finger
Gentle words soothing over
Voices reverberating
The two swirl
Unfurl
Turning to noise
Playing in the background
As I gradually fall back into a cradle
Rocking left to right
And right to left
On the brink
Asleep
Jan 26, 2024
Jan 26, 2024 at 10:06 AM UTC
I submerged myself from the restfulness of the sea
the singing echo of bubbles
and marine lives waved at me
the time just stopped
it was a portal to a different world
watch yourself float and savour the placidity
I then asked myself
'is this what really is home to me?'
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 6:28 PM UTC
Through kisses we came to be here.
Soft curves of flesh revealed and traced by fingertips inspired.
To feel the rise and fall of silent, restful breaths and to touch true restfulness.
To savor the miracle of it and so gentle so as not to disrupt it.
Lips seeking to follow in finger's path so as to know the sensation of the sights.
Along neck and shoulder by delicate procession giving the sense of touch new meaning
With fingertip and lips, with sight and by scent to know the gift that has been given.
To feel through touch of skin and the tangle of limbs a feeling so peaceful and at rest.
Lips pressed to lips in the softest and most tender way so that they seem to be as one.
Gentle movements as hands and eyes and mouths explore the sense of being of one soul.
Conversations between eyes, devoid of ears, speaking both of fire and contentment.
Intimate caresses shared and without thought to keeping secret the soul's desires.
Passions and lusts, loves and dreams converging to bring true peace of mind and body.
Locked in embrace, in heart, in mind and in memory your kiss is my highest point.
All else is without sensation or fire or purpose without it
Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 6:07 AM UTC
My home is
bucketfull of memories,
Where every wall has
a story to tell,
Every door has
a gateway to flashback,
Every room has
a warmth of delightfulness,
Every bed has
a peace of restfulness,
And every corner has
a memory of hide and seek.
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 10:43 AM UTC