"thinkest" poems
i.
Happy birthday
To thee, dearest
Friend. Mayest
This remembrance of birth
Be another year for thou
To thinkest of none end's;
But a brighter tommorrow.
ii.
Resteth gal sarah,
Put away all of
Thine sorrow's,
Didst thou not
Knoweth; there's
A God who breaketh
The alshshayatin
Who cometh against
Thee.
iii.
Thou art not alone,
As me and mine Jane
Art alway's there to
Be, a friend in need.
Growing seed's, to
Help-another grow.
iv.
Mayest the morrow
Be for thou, as white
As snow; mayest the
Seraphim, who surround's
Thy worries and protects
Thy home, showeth
Thee the light above thine tear's.
Smile mine friend, a friend is here.
Mayest thy sight be clear, and thy crown
Be uplifted and flared. As the world's glare
Hast betrayed thine eye's. Observeth upward
Wherein paradise lies; as thou wilt hath wing's one day
O' laureate of poetry's net. O' brilliant friend; of Jane and mine.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Thepoet(Sarah Ahmed) birthday dedication.
Sorry Sarah day late on b day dedication... But a happy wonderful birthday from me a friend if you ever need one there as you have always been there for me and Jane and have always been a major blessing to me and Jane!!! May the heavens open to you, and may you overcome your battles you face in this world...
HAPPY BIRTHDAY poetic friend !!!!
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 7:32 PM UTC
i.
Iniibig kita
Mahal Kita;
Minamahal Kita,
Iniirog kita.
ii.
Here do I cometh, I'm on mine way. The skies art clear tonight, just a tint of fine gray; though I spread mine plumage, fracture the tone, I knoweth one day, O' verily one day- I'll findeth mine way home.
And I thinkest, when I findeth the bungalow, I wilt rest, after long
Passage alone. As thou I wilt bestow, mine Lip's on thy own; quietly humming, Sayaw tayo?
iii.
A Tagal na ah, a Tagal na ah, now I'm here mine love, I've made it mine queen; some sayest dream's don't cometh true, Only if the other's couldst find; they discern science, just not the sign's of the times.
Though we behold, the spirit and soul, and ourn creator, the crowned head of the world's; Hallowed be his name, Yahweh, father Jehovah, known also Elohim. His son Yeshua ha'mashiach, English language "Jesus the anointed one". The son above all son's. Jane, mine queen.
iv.
Iniibig kita
Mahal Kita;
Minamahal Kita,
Iniirog kita.
Tagal na ah
Tagal na ah;
Now in thy
Grip, with
Mine kiss,
On thy Lip's
I place mine
Vow's. O'
Yadid, yadid,
Never let me go
Agapi mou-
Zoi mou,
Se latrevo
Mine queen.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou) dedication
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 12:07 AM UTC
There is a poet
And poetess
That writeth;
In the slums
And the ghetto's;
In the suburb's
In the meadow's.
There is a poet
And poetess
That prophecieth
In the mountain's
In the city, neath
Their graves, in
Tomb's, free one's,
Slave's, some known,
Many doomed, in
Heaven's gates, some
Art poor, some telleth
Of fate, some art lonesome,
Some speaketh of amour',
Some linger in the shadows,
Tortured by demon's, anguished;
Fighting hellish and earthly battles.
There is a poet and poetess that writeth in blood and in ink:
Some feareth death, death to some doth succumb when these artist's speak. Some hath wealth, some with naught, some groweth their own food, whilst other's stick to store bought. Some art peasant's, some art farmer's, some poet's preach and teacheth; whilst other's want to alarm us. There is a poet and poetess in this life and the next; some looketh down on loved one's, whilst the living is blinded by material net's. Some art lost, forgotten, some speaketh Spanish, Hindi, English, Arabic, french, lost languages, or Latin. Some just want to love, whilst some seeketh to findeth love, some want to flyeth away, as if a falcon or a dove. Some thinkest their better than most, others thinkest they art not better then noone, feeling dead as if a ghost. Some jotteth poetry to make them remember living, some art charitable, whilst poet's in prison sit and rot from killing or stealing. Some passeth time staring at the ceiling, whilst some overwork, some casteth their ten percent to worldly lusts, whilst other's pay to God in church. There is a poet and poetess that writeth, being dead or alive; O' poet's were all distinctly different though the same, in God's poetic eye's..............
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC
i.
I shalt consign mineself
In a balikbayan box;
A snug hole to tryeth to **** air
Mine lung's tightly in lock.
ii.
On a plane, on a ship, in a bus
I shalt squeezeth mine carrion in;
Thinking of mine betrothed amare
How I must risketh mine life, for me to get there.
iii.
As I wilt meeteth her at the Sari-sari store's
Though I wilt be broke, no money, only amour;
Though tis love's not about money, or materialistic junk
As I thinkest all this, I thinkest soon ill break from mine trunk.
iv.
As the plane halt's, mine crate roll's around
Mine queen hath found me, in shock, her tear's cometh down;
Because I fleweth mineself in this darkly space
It was all for a purpose, to seeith the one I loveth, and her face.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane dedication
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
No, do dread my glance ,im Helen.
im the purest creature of rage ****
a lapse glance alas , a doom .
a dream of Luth's sealed gloom.
sinister glare of Gomorrah bright.
soured sight of sere flower blight.
im venomous kiss of sweetest lips.
deadliest breath of daughter of Rappicini.
come fair son of light and beauty.
date me with naive lurking desire.
receive my poisonous breath satire .
i will sail thee near a pestilent fountain.
im the sinister Titania and Bottom and more i contain.
behold you not with my innocent beauty .
perverse is my nature intend but my name holy.
dost cross the path to purity on mount Sinai.
cause i shall rule and Helen the offspring of my ****
is lure untamed fiend,feed her she behold with leech.
no, one of my breath is a blast to thy life to leash.
my glare is illuminated like azure Vegas.
my nectar Pompeii larva of past .
my beauty is heaven flame it charms .
come; rich, beauty ,savant and fame.
for thou dost not behold with immortal Ichor.
sip deep my breath.
and meddle you with my luring glare.
im Titania i hang over my head a dagger.
upon which thy blood stream to the Bottom.
thou thinkest to entwine me ?
no,lo King Cophetua and the beggar maid.
and my judgement hell fire .
Thebes is in rout but Capaneus bid dust.
what dost thou want ,thou Sophist ?
no the sojourn of thee is Zeus Kirma.
beset for worst as the writ Apocrypha.
come thee savant ,come thee poet.
bekneel before the sacred attire .
heaven bow before the holy Dionysus.
for we beset you with frenzy ,ecstasy, and drama.
all behold the same destiny.
but elixir yonder in Kimmerian trinity.
try not you for eternal bloom .
cause error at Achille right heel.
but Maqueros, Lazarus , and Leviticus.
all will queenly glance at our Caduceus.
behold you not my beauty.
but behold you with our Pow wow.
behold you ! say Amen RA.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 3:00 PM UTC
A thick veil is sensually wrapped across the face of those presumed intellectual and spiritual insights, and heightens the awareness of your sublime intrigue.
It truly is a paradise lost, where ancient illusions continue to tickle my raging nostalgia with eager anticipations of forbidden refreshments.
Yet, I am not unaware of the concealment of those predictable and ludicrously mystical allurements, which you so proudly pronounce across those who are deemed to be inferior to your supremacy.
How trivial are your so-called strategies, as you are always captured after an effortless and psychological pursuit.
Therefore, how adept are you, thinkest thou, in your futile system of narcissism?
Vanity is a deplorable emptiness which scoffs at those who are deemed to be subservient to the lofty heights of your utmost divorce from reality.
The definition of a delusion is a fixed and false belief.
We have now constructed a picture where the application of this psychological veil exposes your profound ugliness.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 10:21 PM UTC
i
I shalt consecrate one as mine empress
As she sitteth high up upon her throne;
She shalt be the ruler of mine dominion
An abode aloft the Earthling's decor below.
ii
I shalt put upon her eminence gracefully
A castle tiera upon her frowning head;
Wherein when one's shalt tryeth to hurt her
I'll giveth mine life, to protecteth mine wife's bed.
iii
And we shalt wander on the streamside
Whilst ourn harp-player's strum for us in ourn court;
Sipping on wine, of amare divine
Ourn spirit's and finger's, locked with none remorse.
iv
Though tis this is all just an illusion
Hoping for one day, mine empress to awaketh from her sleep;
Wherein wherever she shalt be, I cant findeth her
I thinkest I am dead, Maby asleep?
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 9:58 AM UTC
Regular being's
Like to thinkest, outside the box;
I tend to thinkest
Outside of this dreadful world.
©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poet's poetry
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 12:35 PM UTC
O me, o my! The world is sorrow
For I have quite a struggle tomorrow
Wandering incredulously for truth
Why I am here to do I have no proof
Woe is me, I have to think all day
Working aimlessly is the only way?
Me thinkest I must be a poor soul
Animal and child have no such cold
The Powerful Force bequeathed me a ban:
No progress without the plight of man
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
i
Earl Jane, oriental poetess, thou art so down, that's why I writeth this, Earl Jane, best friend of Friend's, thine heart's open as thou doth not pretend, as so many other's do; Earl Jane, thy hand's writeth as a muse, thou art not abjected in mine room, welcomed
ii
Earl Jane, lover of all being's, agone wherein thy heartbreak Sting's, I shalt taketh thine wound's mine friend, kind, gentle, thy charity with none end, thou shalt filleth thy dream's unlike other's thinkest, thou shalt glaze the moon in color's, I'll watcheth
iii
Earl Jane, afoot beside me, its thee I shalt helpeth and guide
I seeith the passion and compassion in thine eyes, as thou art free
Earl Jane, poetica dream, taketh the rope off from around thy neck, ourn savior saved thee, as I'm here for thee to protect.
iv
Earl Jane, I knowest whence thou came: from the before life of this, wherein romantic's met the poetic flame, earl jane, Asiatic bird, let thy anguish cometh out in word's, and jot and scribe thine soul down as it glide's, and frolic for new tommorrow.
v
Earl Jane, is this helping thine sorrow? Art thou smiling now as thou shouldst? Just look at mine face if thou needeth a laugh, we both knoweth its stained, like church rose glass, I knoweth right now that thou shalt laugh, art thou smiling now? Dearest friend...
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication/ friendship poem
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 7:15 PM UTC
Conflation groweth between ourn sinews
We shalt row upon the island's with canoe's;
The eyelet's aloft us shalt sprinkle celestial powder
We're long away from civilization, dusk hour's.
Fondu pupil's, art the culture to that moment
Her hug's, like gods cloak, encases me with a bonus;
Snug Creation's forgetting the cares around them
The only thing's we thinkest of, art the love's blend.
Justice run's through ourn courtship
As the scales art finely balanced;
None ogre's to looketh over ourn shoulder's
Ourn closeness, keepeth them silenced.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane dedication
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 10:57 PM UTC
Amiss am I, awry I be, with thought's not of this sphere, O' how I thinkest of the real me. The real me with none dermis, the reality of none colored blood. I'm katharí psychí;
Of the empyrean love.
Wherein the substance and materials aren't bought, nor sold; I'm sick of the greed, the wantonness, that makes monsters out of men.
I've experienced wantonness, though verily it doesn't please me, I've tasted Lust's, and lust conceives sin;
Sin leadeth to death.
Lord Almighty, protect me from the demon's that never rest, nor do they sleep;
They art witty, unforgiving, they make men's heart's their places to eat and invest.
Renew me Yahweh in this mortal stress, keep mine eye's on thee; O'
Mighty king.
Free me of mine burdens;
And mine restlessness.
Let thine light,
Overshadow me.
© Brandon nagley
© Lonesome poet's poetry
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 6:30 PM UTC
I seeith
A light
Up ahead
In the tunnel
I thinkest,
I'm dead........
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 10:21 PM UTC
I remember.....
Whilst doing the time I didst in prison;
The strangest little thing
When noone canst buyeth cigarette's none more
Since the state outlawed it in prison's
(Ridiculous) since people wilt still smoke anyways.....
I remembered walking into the caged yard of beast's;
Seeing them phening for that smell and taste of tobacco
As I remember seeing one of mine old friends there
From the intermediate prison before that,
Matt's his name;
Taketh out a little plastic bag of tobacco out of his pocket...
And a white blank piece of paper,
From one of the small Bible's thou canst findeth;
As little Bible's in prison aren't just for God's word
But also they sell for ten bucks a pop.
As he rolled a cigg, so tightly and fused......
As him and all the other's
Went back to the bleachers,
By the prison's football field
Wherein that was the spot,
Everyone hid their smoking
Yet,
The guards didst not careth
They were bringing dope in
Amongst other things!
To calm and ease the brute beast's......
As in that old prison I was in
Thou wouldst want to calmeth thy nerves to
Trust me.... Tis not a place, for the kindest of soul's as me......
As seeing them smoke those bible rolled cig's
Madeth me thinkest at that moment;
They just do this
To feeleth human:
To feeleth alive....
To feeleth free,
Whilst trapped in a cage......
As tis Being animal's in ourn cages;
We were, still free, more than the rest
Of society...
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 12:29 PM UTC
i.
Once upon a time, in the interweb of H.P
Betwixt technology's advance, wherein all us poet's dream;
I met a queen, a tan skinned Filipino rose
I kneweth her from before formation, we got conjoined by toe's.
ii.
Friend's only at first, she was always there to listen
Though in love the whole time, an angelic preordained invention;
Both to shy, to cometh out with ourn realest affection's
Though mine spirit was screaming telleth her, I got her attention.
iii.
After us both in focus, and this hellish step-stool left behind
We both, like past life ghost's, made ourn amour' as sweet wine;
And now and forever, until the end of tommorrow, and time
We shalt forever fasten ourn specter's, now all maketh sense fine.
iv.
Many thinkest eternal living doth not exist, after ourn death
Telleth that to me and earl Jane nagley, as we shalt flyeth;
Ourn wing's wilt glideth, the moon's, atmosphere's, and star's
God is ourn guider, the angel's sit beside her, as I feeleth whole
In mine heart.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 3:41 PM UTC
Daily upon the screen
I seeith young men
Sent off to war;
As tis I seeith the greedy men
Getting rich from them
As tis I thinkest,
What for?
CONTROL.......
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 8:37 AM UTC
A true hopeless romantic doesn't care what others think
Of his one quadrillion poem's a day
For his (mi amour'.....)
It's not for them anyway's.......
As tis for her ...
As that's true love!!!
Just doing,
Not thinking....
And not caring what others may thinkest!!!!
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 1:36 PM UTC
Do not thy tell me to speak up the truth,
Because my truth not be what you thinkest,
And yet what my truth may speakest,
Thy ears may fail to understand.
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 9:15 AM UTC
Man thinkest he is invincible;
No,
True love is invincible.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 1:55 PM UTC
For every word that I'm writing now
Another person is taking their last breathe;
And thou canst loveth and giveth, and forgiveth thy
Brother's, sister's, and Lover's?
Thinkest of that.....
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 6:30 PM UTC