"standeth" poems
~
*O Painter
with thy own eye
would thee
paint me in mine own natural hue
prithee paint me as i am,
imperfections
and blemishes true
Load thy brush
with colors sundry
to maketh yond first pure sweep
across the ****** frieze,
fill'd with pangs of hunger.
paint me as i standeth
bethought, in deep
With mine own love and mine own desire,
blurring the edges unclean
with mine own regrets
and mine own mental gyre,
in mine own natural age,
of deep forest green
O Painter
Paint me sinister turquoise,
in lavender and maroon,
combine the amethyst and amber
blend the iceberg
and the indigo moon.
Paint me as i standeth,
prithee see with thy eye
a mistress in yond lady plight
Prithee paint me all i am
i cullionly
a mistress in all yond lady might
Paint me in the optimistic
silv'r of dawn,
but don’t miss the purple
to shade the bruise
of the bygone.
paint me in the sky blue journal
O Painter
Paint me as a unique template
smudge black white and grizzled
merging all the colors of thy palette.
col'r me a rainbow
in a rainy drizzle
Paint me tall so yond i standeth
loftier than any mountain
Paint me as a dram bird, delicate
with soft feathers silken
Paint me harmony, as a violin
so yond i can sing thy solitary tune
paint me as thy poetry
with song and melody
wrapp'd in a cocoon
O Painter
paint me as a dream yond rises
in did saturate colors
with a steady upbeat flight awry
tint, a fluttering
of a quite quaint butterfly
Portray me with endurance
imbue so bold and bright
doth not hesitate
to depict mine own mind
in profound fuchsia and white.
Useth the colors yond thee would borrow
Thy palette not yet exsufflicate
Paint mine own loss and mine own sorrow
in search of a shade so ******
Adorn mine own heart in glowing garnet
at which hour thee paint mine own love
add a true broken blue shade
of the cloud and the rain above;
Study mine own dry sorrow
in mine own soul
useth any shade thee plaited
soften the edges of control
in a tinge of xanthene.
O Painter
Prithee paint me
Mine own passion and mine own spirit
shall has't a crimson r'd hint
mine own remorse and mine own regret
shall reflect an ink stain print
Paint me in mine own eye so true
O Painter
but add a dash of courage too*
~
Dec 17, 2017
Dec 17, 2017 at 10:52 AM UTC
O traveler, why lookest thou straight
on the road
grave and speculative,
Depriving your eyes such a beatific sight,
See the angelic form standeth behind
the window curtain,
Come, wait, sit beside me, it’s worth waiting,
We both will sing in praise of her
And linger until she uncurtains the curtain.
You say it’s purposeless
Why argue?
Isn’t it the reason our maker gives us eyes?
Isn’t it the purpose of our mind’s evolution
to sing and hail the beauty; at least of her.
You won’t believe my word? Impertinence!
You will be blinded by her shadow
spare her presence; “stare not for long”,
What? You say it exaggeration…
Bon Dieu!
If beauty is not exaggerated
where lies its charm.
Look! her shadow moving, she is
growing impatient as if getting
late to meet her lover.
Yes, she wins heart in a look
and crushes it in a blink and wins again
by smile.
Monarch sleeps in her bed
Life in right, Death in left hand; she possesses,
Judiciary in closet
And warriors in purse.
Countries bow, world kneel, universe supplicate
before her.
Stop! Where thou going?
Pardon these adynatons,
I’m drunk in her beauty.
Let us sing then, I’ll lead, you follow
Flowers wilting in chilled air,
Waiting clouds to part
To have a look fair,
Of moon…
Do see the restlessness in that room?
I can sense her ***** heaving, repressed
sighs and her fingers twisting, twirling
in exasperation,
It must be a lover
who invented the song, isn’t it?
A gloomy firefly in this starless sky
Searching his lover
Who has lost the light,
Wait not moon, rise, help him
In his plight…
Look! look! The curtain is drawn
There she, my sovereign,
don’t mistake her eyes for stars.
Have a profound look, but not too long;
this witnesses only fortunate.
What? you lost your vision-
But I warned you earlier.
Now, who’ll testify I saw her?
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 7:43 PM UTC
Within the gentle heart abideth Love,
As doth a bird within green forest glade,
Neither before the gentle heart was Love,
Nor Love ere gentle heart by Nature made.
Created was the sun,
And lo, his radiance everywhere held sway,
Nor was before the sun;
Love doth unto all gentleness aspire,
And in the self-same way
Doth clarity unto clear flame of fire.
Love’s fire is kindled in the gentle heart,
As virtue is within the precious stone;
From out the star no glory doth depart
Until made gentle by the sun alone.
When the sun hath drawn forth
By his own strength all that which is not meet,
The star doth prove its worth.
Thus to the heart, by Nature fashioned so
Gentle and pure and sweet,
The love of woman like a star doth go.
The reason Love in gentle heart doth stay
Is why the fire unto the torch-head flies,
Burning as he doth fancy, bright and gay,
And were too proud to do so otherwise.
But Nature’s cruel scheme
Contrasteth Love as water, flame; as heat,
Quelled by the cooling stream.
In gentle heart doth Love his bower divine,
Since like with like must meet,
Thus diamonds in the iron of the mine.
Upon the mire the sun sheds his bright rays,
That is still vile, nor doth the sun turn cold:
“Gentle am I by birth,” the proud man says.
33 He, mire, and the sun, gentleness, I hold.
Let no man think that he
May be possessed of gentleness, although
He boast a king’s degree,
Unless a gentle heart be found in him:
The water is aglow
With stars, and yet the heavens have not grown dim.
God the Creator in heaven’s mind of grace
Shines brighter than before our eyes the sun;
There it is given to see Him face to face,
Whence in their beauty the skies, serving one
Just God, to Him do turn
And the blest end of primal love fulfil.
Thus the truth which doth burn
In my sweet Lady’s eyes she should make clear,
Of her own gentle will,
To him who in her service tarries near.
My Lady, God will say: “Didst thou not fear,”
(When my soul standeth yonder in His sight:)
“To pass the heavens and seek Me even here,
Vain love pursuing with My image dight?
To Me doth praise belong
And to the Queen of Heaven, who from her sphere
Of glory endeth wrong.”
Then I could plead: “Thy angels up above,
O Lord, like her appear;
I did not sin in giving her my love.”
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 11:13 PM UTC
Help Lord, for godly men have took their flight,
And left the earth to be the wicked's den:
Not one that standeth fast to Truth and Right,
But fears, or seeks to please, the eyes of men.
When one with other fall's to take apart,
Their meaning goeth not with their words in proof;
But fair they flatter, with a cloven heart,
By pleasing words, to work their own behoof.
But God cut off the lips, that are all set,
To trap the harmless soul, that peace hath vow'd;
And pierce the tongues, that seek to counterfeit
The confidence of truth, by lying loud:
Yet so they think to reign, and work their will,
By subtle speech, which enters every where:
And say, our tongues are ours, to help us still,
What need we any higher power to fear?
Now for the bitter sighing of the poor,
The lord hath said, I will no more forbear,
The wicked's kingdom to invade and scour,
And set at large the men restrain'd in fear.
And sure, the word of God is pure, and fine.
And in the trial never loseth weight;
Like noble gold, which, since it left the mine,
Hath seven times passed through the fiery straight.
And now thou wilt not first thy word forsake,
Nor yet the righteous man, that leans thereto;
But will't his safe protection undertake,
In spite of all, their force and wiles can do.
And time it is, O Lord, thou didst draw nigh,
The wicked daily do enlarge their bands;
And that, which makes them follow ill a vie,
Rule is betaken to unworthy hands.
3.7k
Traveling through the dusk tunnel
A pinpoint of light at the end;
Warmth overtaketh me
The beginning of life's around the bend.
One hundred kin
Waiting to greet me in;
All smiling, all radiating
Ages range from five to one-hundred and nine,
Some looketh old, though all's young: no age existeth, time here is not told. Age only existeth back on earth, though here; all age's art the same, no one is special by their birth.
Betwixt mine family standeth tall mine savior and lord
Jesus Christ the king; with angel's whom standeth beside him, as tis they speaketh together telepathically. In Christ's hand's he reacheth out to me- as whilst I looketh at his eye's aqua green, the universe showeth itself in a way to Man unseen; and whilst at that moment clearly I hadst seen the hole's in his Palm's and feet, his word's " cometh hither mine son" I bowed in front of mine kin to him instantaneously.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 2:51 PM UTC
Tonight is the night, be it All Hallows' Eve
One filled with fright most refuse to believe,
For deep amongst the shadows, silently lurking,
'Tis a terrifying creature, his jagged teeth smirking.
Thou hast all heard of demons, and hast battled thine ghouls
Whilst this terrible beast watcheth with hunger and drools.
It's spittle, like acid, can burn through thine flesh
Making thee so much easier to digest.
No name shalt be found for a creature so foul
That gobbles up goblins, and ogres disembowels.
Dost thou think that thine lanterns shall frighten it hence?
Oh foolish man, it shall consume the light thence.
It standeth hunched over, twelve feet in height;
Stalking thou, watching thou, waiting for night.
It cometh from deep within the forest, as the moon wanes
His fur smelleth of death, his claws favouring pain.
He shan't be stopped ere his hunt is over
Yet he only hunts the thirty-first of October
Take ye heed, then, and hear the warning of the raven
For this beast is coming, and from him there is but one haven.
He preyeth upon the weakest, and the one full of fear
So stand fast, take courage and in another likeness appear
Put on a mask, as treacherous as can be
Conceal what layeth within, do not let him see
Or else you shall be taken, beaten and devoured
For this beast prefers to torture just to see thee cower.
So please, take heed to this warning and believe;
Thou art only safe if thee wearest a mask on All Hallows' Eve.
11/3/16
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 12:13 AM UTC
**Ps 1:1 ¶ Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful. {ungodly: or, wicked}
2 But his delight is in the law of the LORD; and in his law doth he meditate day and night.
3 And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper. {wither: Heb. fade}
4 ¶ The ungodly are not so: but are like the chaff which the wind driveth away.
5 Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous.
6 For the LORD knoweth the way of the righteous: but the way of the ungodly shall perish.**
(King James Version)
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 10:28 AM UTC
A hidden key
To unlock this soul
A Victorian queen
To confine mine home
An ancient lass
Druid class
Unpolished
Uncorrupted
I seeketh one to give me all
As I her
Two words
(King and queen)
To be the apple of her eye
Bringeth me back to life
Push the red soup back in mine arteries
Light the alpha and omega torch!!!!
Scorched!!!
By ones petting upon mine countenance
A cigarette of Aphroditus
A holy plus and sacred minus
A positive and negative so attractional!!!
Her long darkened locks
To zephyr across mine chiffonier
As she drenches me in cartoon weird
A delighting smear of two bodies in the swelter!!!!!
Unplugged
Raw
Unkiltered
Filthy animals in rawest mold!!!
Antediluvian souls!!!!
Her slaver
Uncustomarily
Her quiver
I tasteth as dairy
Unadulterated by man, plush by god!!!
Yet its a lost chimera
Laughing back at me
There's none that standeth at mine gate
All a whimpering dream
A fantasy of hopeless romantic!!
Why chase the treasure?
I see no chance
Still a dunce
Of high school dance
As I'll sit in the bleachers glancing the crowd!!!!
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 8:13 AM UTC
O' to thee this heart belongeth, to thee I layeth down all; exposed, unclothed, in spiritual configuration I'm raw. O' tis with thee I standeth tall, in sainthood hall's, erstwhile ripped and mauled; now reincarnated by thine enchanting call. I'm glorified, in thy eye's I taketh a dive; and splash. Inside thine dusky vision's I've found riches, wealth, a stash. A hideaway, wherein I'm faraway on cumuli of better day's, wherein ourn bodies sway, until were old and gray, and we reawake into eternal life. Husband and wife, to where all is right, and we art protected in the almighty author's finger's. A poetess Reyna as thee, and me as thine poet, and singer. Amour' bringer's, jotting dimple's as minstrel's atop holy church steeple's. Welcomed in by conglomerate people's; as we hold eachother's hand's, locking finger's to starlit showers. Tis we hold the key's to intimate and infinite hour's. We passeth the time by rhyme's of divine flower's that canst shimmer on a dime's notice. Unbound as a lotus; opening up ourn feather's.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose ) dedication
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC
Blessed is the man that
walketh not in the counsel of
the ungodly, nor standeth in the
way of sinners, nor sitteth in the
seat of the scornful.
2 But his delight is in the law of
the Lord; and in his law doth he
meditate day and night.
3 And he shall be like a tree
planted by the rivers of water,
that bringeth forth his furit in his
season; his leaf also shall not
wither; and whatsoever he doeth
shall prosper.
4 The ungodly are not so: but
are like the chaff which the wind
driveth away.
5 Therefore the ungodly shall
not stand in the judgment, nor
sinners in the congregation of the
righteous.
6 For the Lord knoweth the
way of the righteous: but the way
of the ungodly shall perish.
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 9:06 AM UTC
In the realm where whispers doth dance and time standeth still,
Three voices rise, with purpose sharp and will.
Perfume, Scent, and Fragrance, in a sacred throng,
Declare their truths, each claiming right and song.
Perfume spake, with elegance refined,
“I am the soul of artistry, confined
To bottle's clasp, a crafted dream,
A potion made to linger, to gleam.
I bear the weight of ancient lore,
A muse of kings, of lovers, and more.
I am not mere essence, drifting free—
I am the art of memory."
Scent, a fleeting shadow, whispered low,
"Thou boastest of power, of permanence, I know,
But I am life—breathe in, and then I fade,
In wind, in rain, in every glade.
Not bound to glass nor vials that bind,
I slip through cracks, a breath unlined.
I linger soft on fleeting air,
A reminder of the earth, everywhere."
Fragrance, in silence, sought to intervene,
“Is it not I who weave both worlds unseen?
I am the union of the pure and the real,
The fleeting touch, the lasting feel.
I grace thy skin, I fill the room—
A subtle dance, an endless bloom.
Without me, perfume would not endure,
Without me, scent would not be pure."
The argument raged, in circles vast,
Each voice demanding, steadfast, fast.
But in the end, a truth was found:
Together, they’re woven, the essence profound.
For Perfume and Scent, though both distinct,
Find harmony in Fragrance—linked.
Each alone, a part of a greater whole,
Together, they speak to the heart and soul.
Feb 12, 2025
Feb 12, 2025 at 2:54 PM UTC
I, another being,
spawned from hatred,
seven trumpets, hear me roar
cadaverous and malicious
I become myself whole
to fend away thy arrogant gaze
Come hither, broaden thy shoulders.
And thou standeth affixed,
bound in tarry,
for misunderstanding anew
for disposition anew
without disgrace to stain thy face
like rain on morning dew.
Now taketh this instant,
midst tallt satyrs.
Nary seek thine own indulgence
but one reason to divulge repugnance
with pitch black souls
preying for holes.
In this forest of hatred,
I cometh into my own again.
To emerge astonished
with ravenous eyes
betwixt thither, where dimmer trees do wax
in gloomy twilight still.
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 6:43 PM UTC
i
The quiet crypt amongst the goblin's and ghoul's
I secretly wander, an isolation love tomb;
And in this mausoleum, I expatiate the catacomb
Crooning mine soft echoe's, as mine painful shadow doth moan.
ii
Mine doppelganger of heartbreak, lingers aloft the mist
I seeketh for another ghost lover, just one apple kiss;
A globules of amour, I beggeth for just one tiny pinch
I beseech for a peach, one bite inside her flowery glimpse.
iii
An ingenue of cosmos venue, a juncture of cheribum Host's
The lightning bug's, to be as ourn love, lighting up the ghost's;
Bonjour from me, none Au revoir from her, a delightful play
One of mi amour', as lightning dances, and fairies art Prancer's.
iv
The universal relic, to be ourn set, the curtain closed, sweet duet
She calleth me king, I calleth her pet, lass of day, lad of the nest;
And whilst the pest's, tryeth to cut ourn wings, well standeth tall
And whilst we standeth, we'll grabbeth all there is to bring.
v
A dwelling place, in her amulet of both of ourn beating heart's
Never away, none distance, none evil or lies to keepeth us apart;
Lineal scout's, of what life's all about, leaving fear's in the out
And walking the galaxy, leaving step's, heaven awoke, undressed.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC
Untamed mammals release tensions before mine own eye's. Chains art broke, none more cloaks to hide those dreading thoughts of suicide. Raging dictating swearer's, jewels traded for tools as the sun lowers. Tis this place gets rarer and bare. . . . . . .Cars surround. Compound their rubbers to bullets of blood issued steel. . .Captivating and excruciating. Music to thy ear's turneth to bad news! ! Chess sweepers. Checker winners. Both losers whilst the rest born sinners. . . Costly state pay to fatcat pocket books hands; some issue warnings whilst protective custody issues dull demands. . . . . All prosecution standeth to issued remaxed detective blogees. . . . . . .redneck respecters cometh with protectors whilst the odd breeds cometh with a dodger. . . . . .mystique, defeat. . . . .to thy hands thou art tied from behind! Move up the latter, tasteth thine coroded own chatter, the deaf art now the blind. . . . . . .
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 10:35 AM UTC
Brethren Hear This
〰〰〰〰〰〰〰
Brethren but why doubt God's prowess?
Even the devil knoweth:He is the creator
And the Greater,
High above in Heavens is his palace,
Creator but created suffering not,
He has counted and recorded your wailings,
And has weighed all your fraught,
He standeth at your door:Knocking and Waiting,
Why not answer his call?
Open your door to him:And seek solace,
Cast your burdens on him:not one but all,
For he cares;the bible speaketh his promises,
Like a police;He watches and enforce them,
Go to him brethren:And see his splendid gem,
A Poem Written By
©Historian E.Lexano
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 3:15 AM UTC
Moreover, brethren, I would not that ye should be ignorant, how that all our fathers were under the cloud, and all passed through the sea;
And were all baptized unto Moses in the cloud and in the sea;
And did all eat the same spiritual meat; And did all drink the same spiritual drink: for they drank of that spiritual Rock that followed them: and that Rock was Christ. But with many of them God was not well pleased: for they were overthrown in the wilderness. Now these things were our examples, to the intent we should not lust after evil things, as they also lusted. Neither be ye idolaters, as were some of them; as it is written, The people sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to play. Neither let us commit fornication, as some of them committed, and fell in one day three and twenty thousand.Neither let us tempt Christ, as some of them also tempted, and were destroyed of serpents.Neither murmur ye, as some of them also murmured, and were destroyed of the destroyer.Now all these things happened unto them for examples: and they are written for our admonition, upon whom the ends of the world are come. Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall. There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it. Wherefore, my dearly beloved, flee from idolatry. I speak as to wise men; judge ye what I say. The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ? For we being many are one bread, and one body: for we are all partakers of that one bread. Behold Israel after the flesh: are not they which eat of the sacrifices partakers of the altar? What say I then? that the idol is any thing, or that which is offered in sacrifice to idols is any thing? But I say, that the things which the Gentiles sacrifice, they sacrifice to devils, and not to God: and I would not that ye should have fellowship with devils. Ye cannot drink the cup of the Lord, and the cup of devils: ye cannot be partakers of the Lord's table, and of the table of devils. Do we provoke the Lord to jealousy? are we stronger than he?All things are lawful for me, but all things are not expedient: all things are lawful for me, but all things edify not.
Let no man seek his own, but every man another's wealth. Whatsoever is sold in the shambles, that eat, asking no question for conscience sake. For the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof. If any of them that believe not bid you to a feast, and ye be disposed to go; whatsoever is set before you, eat, asking no question for conscience sake. But if any man say unto you, this is offered in sacrifice unto idols, eat not for his sake that shewed it, and for conscience sake: for the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof. Conscience, I say, not thine own, but of the other: for why is my liberty judged of another man's conscience? For if I by grace be a partaker, why am I evil spoken of for that for which I give thanks? Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God. Give none offence, neither to the Jews, nor to the Gentiles, nor to the church of God, Even as I please all men in all things, not seeking mine own profit, but the profit of many, that they may be saved.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
I ‘standeth’ in awe
It warms by day, yet cools at night
Of the ocean, of the lake, and from thy wet ground
N-o-w evaporate
As though still, but invisible
e
s
i
r
Water vapour now a
Rendered cool, droplets form, liquid water born
N-o-w condensate
Form thy clouds, form thy rain
Through winter ‘formeth’ snow again
Your varied forms, ever-changing face
Whilst humid, vapour in the air contained
Exceed beyond thy limit, thy air cannot hold
Let the misty atmosphere unfold
The tropics of dew
Ever condensing from morning air
In the cool clear night, quietly escape
Cool droplets of dew, morning grass made new
Temperature f
a
l
l
Soft crystals n-o-w form
Conditions suffice, ‘turneth’ to ice
Ever-changing, rendered new
Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 12:42 PM UTC