"tryeth" poems
i.
A Vintage Alfajor necklace
To veil mine sovereign belle;
Betrothed for heaven's comfort
We hath already been through hell.
ii.
Ourn bygone time
Hath strengthened us for forthcoming rapture;
I'll be right next to her, in her allure
No death, forever, happily ever after.
iii.
I'll tryeth daily, tis none maby's
I'll doeth anything, for mine Filipino baby;
As tis I'll maketh her, forget her past
I'll be her bishop, she shalt be mine eternal hourglass.
iv.
As time goeth fast, I mustn't lose the thought
That tommorrow doth not always cometh, we dieth, get lost;
Though she hath found me, I knoweth what being saved mean's
I wilt liveth every day as mine last, and liveth it for mine queen.
v.
So dearest reyna, soulmate, and best friend
When thou doth readeth this, know ourn love shalt not end;
As we both understandeth, this planet is just a passage to the next
We wilt meeteth in this life, and afterward's, pag-ibig at it's best.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 3:55 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
i.
Cometh hither darling, passeth through the enlightened pergola, seeith how ourn moniker's, art carved into the archway thither ourn bower; A chivalrous Noble tower.
ii.
No worrying mine dear, a buckler shalt be close to mine grab, for the attacker's shalt tryeth to invade, steal, and get all in a duetimes hand; though the circlet I shalt place upon thine top, shalt giveth thee shielding, from the Creation's that mock.
iii.
Artista, mine chosen of coëval; chalcedony balconies shalt giveth us visibility, up close we shalt toast, in thine calligraphist theory, in intimacy we'll float.
iv.
The eaves of ourn citadel, shalt be engineered by thine geniusness, none better to build ourn protection, as thou art a stalwart of the age, a queen aloft all name's, an angel upon a seraph's stage, as I wilt espy thee from the window inside thine midst.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 4:40 PM UTC
i
Damsel in distress, open thine soul to me, open thine chest
Colleen of medieval lace, of darling face, I'll taketh thee now;
Yet how canst I taketh one? If none is around, Talitha cuna ghost
I seeketh even thine smoke, wherever thou art, mine spirit waits.
ii
A repast banquet awaiteth for one, a table sitteth here, chairs for two; two chairs as I sitteth and eateth alone, the plàtes art full, though none amour' to tryeth the desert, none next to me for the fruit punch of thirst. Only me staring at an empty blank wall.
iii
Now mine eye's do crawl, searching the hearkening clearance
None was ever here, just signs of emptiness, and mine own disappearance, as at that moment, when the fine dinner was set; mine heart fluttered backwards, being alone, mine spirit left.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 8:31 AM 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
I seeith soo many Wisemen here
Yet doth thou follow thine own teaching?
I seeith soo many lovers here
Yet doth thou showeth that other half love?
I seeith soo many hurt ones here
Yet doth thou not know somebody loveth thou?
I seeith soo much hate here
Yet doth thou knoweth loves the answer?
I seeith soo much cutting another down here
Yet doth thou even want to listen to one? Not just heareth!!!
I seeith soo many complaints here
Yet doth thou tryeth to do anything about it?
I seeith so much shame here
Doth thou not knoweth God forgiveth all?
I seeith soo much guilt here
We only haveth today,
Not tommorrow reader of awee.
I seeith soo much
Yet soo little truthful love
I seeith
Through a prophetic crystal ball!!!
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 10:43 AM 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
Affluent men taketh and foreclose thy dormitory residence
They smirk and grin with their polka dotted ties
They loveth to giveth pain
They laugh to poor man's suicide
They build skyscraper's to thy sky
Metal steel to beam star high
Animal's tis they hunt as trophie's
Whilst African and even American babies art choking
From no food nor water!!!!!!!
They drop acidic gas for slaughter
Whilst putting chemical's in the turf
Slug round's to virginal church
They've scoffed high Jehovah
Made **** their Ponderosa
Wriggling worms
Master artists of DEATH
Selleth thy soul to the world dear reader
And thou shalt taketh thy last breathe
For they've madeth man focus on media ****
****** thee by breast's
They Maketh women a harlot *****
They telleth them what they should be
Giveth them fifty bucks
For girly magazines
But these art the Queen's
That the howler's corrupted their image
Man of no humbling
Devilish scrimmage
As he also maketh men
Robots to his illusion
Giveth him archery
They calleth them soldier brainwashed timid's
They run ourn own weather
( DARPA) run by the government beast
Stick poles in the ground
(Search it in Alaska) thou shalt seeith
Mankind thinks this weather is natural
As natural they tryeth to be
Disillusioned by fact's soon
Their chapter shalt be seen
Their heads will be bowed
Tasting the ash
Their law's of soo called justice
Kiss mine ***
No I don't cuss ( not a cusser honest)
But I'm overboard now
Sick of the molestation of ourn being's, creature's, And GLOBE overflowed!!!!
The blinded eyes
Are woozy by robes
But guess what dearest?
Almost the end of the show.......
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 12:43 PM UTC
Saurian Jovian's and Martian's clasp me to catastrophe rubble,
Dusty airpocket's, with blue sky bubble's, I tryeth to reacheth. Whilst their hobnail's art click cackling, mine suffocation is intensified by magnitude; longitude and latitude, distance is cleverly missing, mine red flow rushes, mine heartbeat nudge's; Harmonious harp playing angelic one, Gale's her hail assail into the impenetrable. She's Immortal and invincible; on forearm's, nose to her garb, her bouquet fragrance I canst telleth a lie; got me broiling in mammal wild primal heat.......
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 4:05 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
Young man only thirteen high before his dream's
Taking doses of everything,
Painpill here, something there, a few Soma's in between....
Daddy shouldn't of left out
His first bottle there to begin with,
Yet daddy gave his son those pills
Sin's the son must live and tryeth to forget...
And now the sky falls
The earth to the boy quakes,
Yet now a man he seeith all
All the lies,pain , and heartbreak
He found it out the hard way
Making deal's in alleyway scene's,
To many false Lovers to him
They all telleth tales to maketh him believe...
And so he continues to swallow down his white pills
Just to feel some reality, wherein nothing else seemeth real!!!
And though those round thing's aren't authentic, he does it from the pain, of all the farce one's that cometh again and again....
So he couldn't take none more, that he got
Trapped in a nightmare, of numbed out demonous plot....
He took a few last white tabs, swallowed them down,
He blasted his music inside his room, blocked the door so he couldnt be found.....
Took his belt, from his closet door, Wrapped it around his neck
Couldn't get no genuine amare from noone, the next life out did he check..
.. As the invalidated he left behind to them a note, mum and dad and everyone, this life I didst not hope....
So his soul clicked, snapped outta his shirt, he fleweth away like a bird, only in his young age, a shock for everyone, for him they hadst no words..... Now he was a ghost!!!
Their only word's were they were soo sad he hadst taken this way out, now at themselves they were mad, because it was them be was talking about..
How they hadst forgotten him, and all the stuff he hadst told... He was a young angel, who so young gave up soul...
The boy who died a man, payeth a visit every now and then,
He stoppeth in with the other suicide's of were hurt and heartbroken....
And up above the man canst seeith the Heartbreakers still break,
Thinking in his mind he forgives them now, though their still fake.
And yet though their fake, he intercedes to God for them in prayers.
Because he's a true seraphim, he didn't even belong here...
His character is unlike them, he was the truest to come around,
And now the other's wilt knoweth the jewel whom they hadst let down...
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 5:36 AM UTC
The Day a Healer Did Weep,
The day did start with desire in the power of prayer,
Yond day would end in horrible, lingering, despair.
The moniters sounded a wretched shrill of doom,
In a blink, an instant, I wast whisked from the cubiculo,
The time did do cometh with swift, and desperate, finality,
While I did pray, and did beg God's holp, did do cometh lethality.
The leadeth leech would not giveth in until did pull away,
With the hurlyburly's end, We did weep together yond day,
This healer with emotion withdrawn, did do break down as a tyke,
The lady did has't this loving effect on all, in the very same like.
Ay, a life ended one warm, sunny, day in K.C,
Nay one erned, but doctors, nurses, and me,
Thither wast nay flowers, nay mourners, nay half staff,
Mine heart ripped ope as with a warrior's gaff.
I cherished, and did protect the lady all our time together,
I did fix all, did maketh things right, cometh high water, or nether,
I couldst nae fix this, nay matter how hard I would tryeth,
Thou can not imagine such teen as I did watch that lady vade, and die,
Nary one knave, nay matter whom they may ever beest,
Can beest did replace, Each life is precious, I wouldst decree,
I wilt declare this to thou, All those yond would listen,
Taketh nothing for did grant, leaveth not a thing missing.
Liveth each moment with thy love as t'would beest thy last,
Leaveth nay regrets in thy future, or eyeless in thy past,
Still cogitate thy love as thou did has't from the first,
Tf 't be true thou pause too long, thou can nea quench such a thirst.
Thither is nary joy in living with regret, teen, and grief,
Liveth each day did share as a gift, and treasure this life brief.
(Translation)
"The Day a Healer Wept,,
The day started with hope in the power of prayer,,
That day would end in horrible, lingering, despair,,
The moniters sounded a wretched shrill of doom,,
In a blink, an instant, I was whisked from the room,,
The time came with swift, and desperate, finality,,
While I prayed, and begged God's help, came lethality,,
The lead Doctor would not give up until pulled away,,
With the battle's end, We wept together that day,,
This doctor with emotion withdrawn, broke down as a tyke,,
She had this loving effect on all, in the very same like,,
Yes, a life ended one warm, sunny, day in K.C.,,
No one grieved, but doctors, nurses, and me,,
There were no flowers, no mourners, no half staff,,
My heart ripped open as with a warrior's gaff,,
I cherished, and protected her all our time together,,
I fixed all, Made things right, Come high water, or nether,,
I couldn't fix this, no matter how hard I would try,,
You can not imagine such pain as I watched her fade, and die,,
No one person, no matter whom they may ever be,,
Can be replaced, Each life is precious, I would decree,,
I will say this to you, All those that would listen,,
Take nothing for granted, Leave not a thing missing,,
Live each moment with your love as it would be the last,,
Leave no regrets in your future, or hidden in your past,,
Forever cogitate your love as you had from the first,,
If you pause too long, you can never quench such a thirst,,
There is no joy in living with regret, pain, and grief,,
Live each day shared as a gift, and treasure this life brief,,
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 10:53 PM UTC
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!!!!
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 6:45 PM UTC
i
The inferno I go into, as I shalt not be burnt by hurting arrow's
A being born of love, taking shuttle from a dove, passing the cup,
As Ill-will circle's me, the contempt of many tryeth to ****** me
As I'm loosed from their naysaying, to their gameplaying anger.
ii
Anew I wilt linger, in this round spinning ball, giving beauty of forgiveness and awe, showing other's the light of God, as the prey wilt lacerate, as angels to me shalt emancipate me of daily aching and nightly heartbreaking, for tis this spirit's overcoming all .
iii
I seeith the real between the false,i seeith the idol's the crowd worship's like a mob, I seeith the murderous bigotry of word's gone wrong, I seeith mineself singing a heavenly song, a comeback from the bygone's, a holder of many vision's.
iv
Overriding superstition, giving authenticity between dreaming wishes, not listening to misconstruction, letting mine conscience alive from allegation, moving mine wing's, nation to nation, giving the true one's an invitation, cometh one, cometh all.
v
Smiling wide, not changing what and who I am, spiritual by birth, though this place, a man, not saying I won't, to things I canst, a wonderful show, of graceful stand, and even if I'm a one man band, (which I shalt not be,) I'll keepeth on smiling, for I am me....
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 10:17 PM UTC
~
*Hear me, and heed my woe,
i tryeth to not bethink on Thee …
how thy smileth reaches
thy eyen and
crinkles the c'rn'rs
immensely.
Thy confidence, a flame
yond burneth with f'rvent might,
intimidating, yet draweth me in,
as moth to candle's lighteth.
Thy passion is contagious,
thy excitement a thrill,
i tryeth to not bethink on Thee …
but mem'ries ling'r still
i tryeth to not bethink on Thee …
as thee gazeth into mine own eyen
bef're our lips meeteth
our intimate moments,
a sensual rapture,
thy corse, a w'rk of art,
sculpt'd p'rfectly in all its
muscular stature
i tryeth to not bethink on Thee …
the way we w're,
young with a future,
we couldst not seeth.
What ifs and maybes,
a maze, i tryeth to escapeth,
longing f'r what couldst've been,
a heart yond acheth.
Ev'ry fare thee well,
a pang in mine own chest,
feareth of nev'r seeing thee again,
and all yond is repress'd
Thy absence, a weight
yond i doth striveth to shaketh,
wond'ring wh're thou art,
what thou dost maketh.
Art thou joyous, art thou free from careth?
i tryeth to not bethink on Thee …
yet some days, 'tis hard to beareth.
In sooth,
i am not depress'd,
n'r doth i feeleth the blues, wh'reupon
i f'rce myself to not bethink on Thee …
by mineth owneth shall, anon.*
~
Aug 30, 2025
Aug 30, 2025 at 9:29 AM UTC
If this world
Is to end today;
I'd like mine Reyna to knoweth
I tryeth to showeth her mine love every day.
©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane dedicated/Reyna
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 1:37 PM UTC
i
Beelzebub, oh Beelzebub, was thou so foolish to turneth from god
Thineself was the highest angel, leading now thy devilish flock;
What was thou thinking? Oh foolish one? To tryeth to be thy god
Thou tried to be the one who created thee, now kicked down here
ii
Lucifer oh Lucifer, thou was made in his image, not him thy own
Now thou hateth, now thou taketh, what thy greediness hath left;
Satan oh Satan thine blaspheming brute, where art thou now?
Art thou killing? Looting, and causing misery for the world's suit?
iii
Bearer of light, oh bearer of false light, I've seen thy face at night
Bearer of false promises that mankind follows, I canst waiteth to see thy works cast into the flame, and for thee again to be chained, with the rest of the hellion with thee in Hell's shallow.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
Tis bad enough being trapped in thy own head
If even trapped physically in thine own carrion luggage body..
Though she's trapped in her own soul ....
The worst feeling,
So God Gaveth me a key to set her free.
But she keep's pushing away mine hand's to unlock her....
Though tis,
I wilst continue to tryeth to reach mine hand to her lock......
And if she keeps pushing mine hand away,
Guess I'll just have to be a criminal
And pick the lock....
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 9:05 PM UTC
Her harmonious melody
Is when she thinketh of me
She's fine
She's pure
She's caught me
In her allure......
A woman
Not a girl
Who giveth all to other's
Though needs guided herself
A beautiful inner being
With demons who tryeth to take her to hell,
Though she stomps them!!!!!
Back to hades
Forever I shalt be here
For mine unearthly baby..
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 3:25 PM UTC
Tis funny tis not?
That in life we tend to
Rush to our appointments
Or tryeth to calleth off ourn appointment's;
Yet here's the catcher,
In death.
Noone shalt skip or tryeth to calleth off that appointment.
As we art all appointed to the same schedule.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 1:05 PM UTC
Soo many these days
Approach to tryeth and get lost inside anothers peeper's
I seeketh just to get lost into their soul
And no.......
I don't want to cometh back out!!!
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC