"saveth" poems
Where I’m From
I am from wires,
from electricity and TV screens.
I am from the dust covering the console.
(Piled high, thick,
It made me sneeze)
I am from the Sega Genesis
the Nintendo
Who has long been forgotten
amongst the shiny new games.
I am from controllers and memory cards,
From Mario and Sonic.
I’m from the hard core gamers,
And the once-in-a-whiles,
From You win! And Game over!
I’m from Thou saveth the princess
With Donkey and Diddy
And 10 cheats I know by heart.
I’m from GameStop and Best Buy,
brand new plastic and overheating console.
From the controller thrown across the room
To the memories,
bonding brother and sister.
In my closet is a box,
filled with old games,
scratched up discs
that will never again work
I am from these games
created before I was born,
born from the tree of electronics.
Apr 20, 2010
Apr 20, 2010 at 4:33 PM UTC
Langhuiris,
Hailed by your power.
Beside Bhafel the ill,
Cause chaos and fire.
Beyond a shaman,
Only power of the Falcon.
Shall save Erinn,
From the War of the Fomors.
Ruairi,
Will await her arrival.
Precious Triona's dead knight.
Move on and reconcile.
He will fight,
Ending the fire.
Ending the hell,
But destroying the Goddess.
Thy Falcon,
Thou must saveth Morrighan.
To keep balance,
In Erinn.
The soul stream call,
To its Guiding Hero.
Man and Woman,
Will Save this world.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 9:04 AM UTC
Sunny day's may be sunny
Yet inside always so dark.
Cars all parked
Like rows to chapels lonesome way's!!!
Deleterious,
Nothing hilarious,
For thy eyes turn unfazed!!!
A deluge of no accomplishments
All walls stand to fail,
All ceiling's to crumble
No more derogatory jails!!!!!
Despondency roaming the brick street of the old
No desposters
No more voters to trade papers
For young and who they mold....
Thine denizen of thy own class
Doth thou passeth the bill of health?
Art thou truly alive?
Canst thou SAVETH thyself?
Think not that thou art free,
Thou eateth
Thineself meets thine own selfish needs!!!!
Thyself shoots bullets of steel
And steal cheapened goods
Whilst small holes in thee hit and bleedeth!!!!
Thy idols no longer stand
Clothes bought by daddy
From his first of the month paycheck
Colored in crayon!!!!
Thou followeth not even thy own commands.....
Is thy love didadic?
Of archaic to history's lesson's?
Art thou to short on preaching?
Thy words begin to lessen.... .
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 10:50 AM UTC
Shadowic heroic ornamental's, false breed's cometh as incense breather's betwixt lively instrumental's. Macrogram plaza's to abrahamic venue's. Caller's calleth upon themselves to saveth what is not theirs;
Morning breath, to winter's dew, hath thou been born yet? Is the baby yet due?
Constant pain's to loss taken gain's maketh brain's and vein's out of organically made flesh; becometh thine own creator, thou creed of selfishness. Anchor heavy soul dragged away by chain's of past forget-not's, wherein the ground stayeth hot to ruin moronic window's.
Maketh thy bed of silvered spring's thy own rusted medieval pillow; thou grand ol' operatic theme, thou patriarch to a dream, Art ourn day's but a whisp of a second's last?
Thing's hath cometh to the listening one, the earth's spinning to fast; the mechanism's now begun.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Prison writing's
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 2:18 PM UTC
Mine queen
Mine easterly wind
That saveth me.
Mine beautiful
Darling of lives
Long lived.
Tis again O'
Tis again, we
Shalt touch ourn
Tissue to intertwine
The mind's of two archaic
Soul's; mine lady, mine home.
Obsidian shalt I wrap around
Thine toes, Olivine crystal to
Grace thy structured shoulder's;
Yellow Spinel as like Ray's of ten-
Thousand star's glittering thy ear's.
Lass, lady of the Orient; wipe away
Thine tear's, for eternal year's art ourn
Own to capture from nonending cloud-walking.
Yea, verily, the Azure's art singing as we shalt chant
"Bala roush, anakar crean monostipi", ourn amare to be uplifting.
Godliness and Impartial giving, life is love, and heaven-sending.
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 9:41 PM UTC
i.
Forby thou art not,
I quiver from the
Cold; mine heart
Is running rapid,
There's anguish
In mine soul.
ii.
I wail out of mine
Bones, mine grave
Is looking close, I
Implore for thee,
Mine Jane, mine
Sweet. I implore
One day, thy eye's
I'll meet.
iii.
On the emptied
Street's of purgatory,
Mine sandal's art worn;
I beseech for just one kiss,
But there's nothing, mine heart doth burn.
iv.
Though through these trial's
And Tribulation's, I shalt
Hath patience; whilst I
Get bitten, by the demon's
I have been smitten. Ourn
Affamour shalt break down
Door's, wherein hell shalt
Shatter, we shalt reach the
Shores, O' I plore for thou.
v.
Mine eyeball's art sinking in, is this death somehow?
Mine body and limbs now doth trow; it's weathering
Away, I'm hanging on tight; I prayest thou canst saveth
Me, by the end of the night. And queen if I goeth, please
Knoweth mine amulet belongeth to thee, I wilt forever
Looketh down, upon thine crown, mine empress; mine
Queen.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 9:36 PM UTC
Abroad the mystical veil, neath me and mine queen's feet, firmament of wonder, a singing Nightingale. The Ring nebula, an escort in the ample ether; none weather, to defeat ourn handheld excursion. Across we cameth, to an unlikely diversion; a black hole ******* the innard's of anything to it's course. Nothing couldst escape it, I hadst to saveth mine Reyna; I threweth mine rose to the side; the whirl pool galaxy, I jumped inside the abyss, none remorse. Tis, I hadst to protect her, from the unholy beast, it needed sacrifice, I Gaveth it mine life; so mine empress couldst liveth in peace. Though the end didst not draweth near, as the Stygian cavity sought; I Gaveth mine blood, for mine amare and wife, as the gloomy pit didst not realize, I was already a spirit. A spirit of love.
©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC
i
Her chatoyant cat's view's art check-rows, wherein cheribum run
Therapeutic is her coalesce, when me and her art in caress, love
Antelucan passionance ensues, anthem to mine muse, elsa-grace.
Costume's to be festive, the crowd gathers us interested, in amour
ii
She felleth through the milky way galaxy, unearthed by humans
She was In a capsule of alien breed, wearing cupid attire tunic
As I'm just a felon, I hadst to keepeth mine head hung down low
Because if they captured me, they'd capture the queen, so I told the king take mine head to SAVETH her soul... .
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Elsa angelica dedicated
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 3:45 PM UTC
The angel covered me with her broken aileron pinion's.......
As I thought I was alone the whole time!!!!!
As she cameth to SAVETH ME....
Yet I cameth to rescue her
As she did already for me....
She hadst thought God sent her to showeth her amour'
No!!!!
God sent me........
And it's for all love to cometh in store...
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
Castillo de la arena, atrapado por su inocencia, una reina moonbeamed, yo buscare del pasado recuerdo la vida; sólo un fantasma de la imaginación mía, harás una seeith mí en alto? una reina que me salva de la muerte, una reina de ninguno miente. reina, no te rescatarme? donde tú eres? mis ojos cansados arte desde la búsqueda, por favor seducir a mi corazón ....
( Spanish version)
( English version)
Castle by the sand, stuck by her innocence, a moonbeamed queen, I seeketh from past life remembrance; just a ghost of mine imagination, shalt one seeith me on high? a queen to Saveth me in death, a queen of none lies. queen won't thou rescue me? wherever thou art? mine eyes art tired from searching, please ****** mine heart....
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 12:30 PM UTC
Skyward I look down
I seeith mine queens head
She's covered by her afflictions
She sometimes wishes to be dead
But I always catch her
Thou seeith I'm her watchmen
I was sent here many years ago
To giveth her right sentiment...
She feels alone at times
Verily I telleth thou she's not
She's given me a new life
One of happiness and marriage plot
Though an angel herself
She caught me as well
She shipped me up from the pit
Whence I layed inside of hell
We saveth one another
We are amour' of everlasting
She is that chalice of all heaven
She's mine queen as for her is romancing!!!
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC
Like lazurus, I was dead for a many long day's,
The queen cameth to greet me, to SAVETH ME from mine way's.
Her vibrant gleaming was beaming wherein mine body didst lay,
She put her hand upon me, wiped mine ****** face.
The cruor disappeared, tis I was made brand new,
The fourth day I awoke, I spoke for mine muse....
To telleth her I loveth her, and I needeth her to,
She fleweth me to heaven, in a chariot view....
Now we rest in the celestial's, sitting on rocket ship stool's,
Making stardust for children, whilst ourn abode is the moon...
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 6:54 AM UTC
At the lowest part of hell
I looked up from mine destitute cell,
And saweth a light I thought to be just a light
Yet it was no ordinary glowing!!!!
It was mine (mi amour')
As her face was lit and showing,
I fell to the hellish floor
Humbled by her coming,
As I kneweth the same love from mine past life
Hath cometh to safe-guard me again,
To SAVETH ME from mine sins
For a new beginning
And not mine own end!!!
As tis I asked her (how must i repayeth thy selfless deed) ?
She said to me (sweetie, thou art mine and forever wilt thou be)
As again I fell on hand's and knees crying
From the joy she hast brought)
I kneweth at that moment
In her love I was comfortably lost...
Tis no bad lost,
But a lost into her soul!!!
As we connected once again
From whence we were born as twin ghosts.
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 6:13 PM UTC
In the crowd of trader's, amongst the land of Jordan
The glamorous and the exotic gamble betwixt the dust.
This is called the rose city, from the rock tis cut from
It lies on the slope of Jebel al-Madhbah, or mount-Hor for some.
The deaf and the lame here art shunned, from Rich bafoon's,
The Masses loveth wickedness, of coin's made from golden tomb's
As in their new's, there art no camera's, just idol's and false mantra's, and as they chant in Arabic and Greek, their eye's shut.
In the crypt of the desert's crevice, lies Aaron, the brother of Moses, as all folk's gather as flocking hen's, the prophet's speak of a coming end, yet the trader's careth of no fire, they careth of their camel's and attire, and whilst the tradeth they mock as well.
They mocketh the creator, from whence they hath cometh, like mammal brutes, they seeketh and wanteth, and women here dress in elaborate color, mother's here trade off daughter's, for a Kings treasure, greedy they've become, material's of another.
Their treasure's art their way's of living, not needing their God, their playing with Satan, a liar, one whom prod's, as whilst they casted lot's, for an Arabic girl in the streets, the mountain's shook, with trembling heat, the Firestone's cameth down, cutting feet.
They wailed to their statues, saying please SAVETH us, they let go of their girl, they tried to trade as a slave and ****** must, the girl ran away, as the seraphim saved her life, the idol's cameth down, the trader's bodies hit the ground, their soul's leaving sight
The adolescent woman, was looking down from up above, her God told her they were greed seeker's, and needed a shrug, the girl couldn't think; she just smiled at her God, God said: thou shalt not be hurt none more, as in flames Petra hath gone up.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 10:12 AM UTC
Mine own joybringer moon ambler
Mine own figure is thy company per purr
Thee madeth me a humour addeth loveth abler
Saveth thy ardor banter to me thy emotion banker
Beest mine own forever pricketh spur
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 11:28 AM UTC