"uncrushed" poems
Amnesia like leaky faucets swollen drain ventilates vapid powdered portrait
At least smiled.
Blood slightly warmed manicure and smiled in forgotten garden
Such lovely font. All wanted
Mini clouds surrounding shrines backlit green in ritual.
Smiles speak but of the wet smell of pollen and the sweat collecting in his hand behind the small of her uncrushed spine.
Curing chlamydia the straight—A fairytale. Conned alive, clumsily and bitter.
Nurtured cotton uprooted attempt. Scrubbed stains to shreds
Not even the green light merely aftermath so of course when shaking egg shells sheltering in “cold hands warm heart” chests receive the song I sing but never knew
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 4:40 PM UTC
should I lay claim to the towers around me?
to programmed ghosts in the machine?
should I reap the gifts and ease of another man’s dreams?
is it not a paradox
to eat what flesh still has not
surrendered just to me?
I can pluck a cherry from a bush
for my life until I find
a small stone I can wield
as a weapon; as a knife
if the rock does not decay
and my aim be born with truth
and arm as strong as it should be
uncrushed by blanket blue
then I should eat what comes to me
what I can take by force
what in my lone punctuality
I can chase without a horse
if I can build a stone axe
then I can start a war
If I can gut a fish
I’m as rich as caviar
but here and now all diamonds
are brought up from the earth
and my coal-free pores are too un-mined
to understand such worth
can I lay claim to the towers around me?
If I can build them all
and if I am no god
then I’ll have no Taj Mahal
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 6:34 AM UTC
A soul uncrushed that once was
The moon rolled down our backs
I was so far from home and yet it felt comforting
To know you were the one to have what I lacked
A study of "Blue in Green"
A cigarette I hid from you when I left
The smoke trails flow with the piano
And settled when you took effect
I saw the blue in your green eyes when you said you must go
College only seemed to hold all my woes
I swore it off with the rising rage of a crescendo
But then again "Blue in Green" reminded me of home
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 2:17 PM UTC
the ravages of time have gnawed
at the stone wall dividing car park and garden
creating small crevasses
those now give shelter to small beings
like the snail that is grateful
to hide
it has found its way
into the depths of the wall
unnoticed by predators
considering it a tasty meal and
uncrushed by careless hurried feet
that frequently are
oblivious to the path underneath
many a snail has thus passed away
this one however has found
a transient refuge
its only predator now
is time
for soon it must choose
and either come out and
face the perils of life
or starve hiding in the wall
(You will never know if you lay low)
© Jasmine, Bude, July 2010
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 9:14 AM UTC
i.
The gloaming is soothing in her presence.
Forthwith, raptured by her glimpse;
I mayest be penurious by worldly
Standard, though with Yahweh
Next to me, and mine queen
Sent to me, I'm opulent
With none enemies
As tis mine soul is
Free.
ii.
None ill-will in me breed's, I've
Walked the path of native tree's;
Wherein the places I canst ramble,
Art not from men's thought's; thus where Lucifer
Gamble's, and soul's art cleaved.
iii.
Mine feet and toes, taketh me where I need
to go, as tis the holy ghost; that dwelleth in me.
The Trinity- "father, son, and holy spirit", whereinto
Jehovah's brilliance reflect's sky ceiling's. As mine Jane is
There in dark or bright-in wrong and right, when thunder strikes,
Or in the fog unknown, when mine heart's alone, and skin need's touch, mine Jane giveth me love, a love uncrushed. A love so much; God as her lead, she dances for me, with her angelic wing's
Inside mine sleep. Her pictures I keep alongside mine wall's, to remembereth the intercession, and the bestowal from God.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©earl Jane Nagley ( àgapi mou) dedication
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 10:56 PM UTC
Old soul connects to
foreign body, moving
beautiful and dutiful
nutrients from point a
to point b; in this human
body cell sits centuries of
shaking table ornaments and
a quivering sense of gratitude as
orange meets purple meets blue.
Good morning lovely!
You are the sun beaming magnificent.
You have a gift that
you must keep secret
until it whispers its way through you.
You will sooner than later
break in two and
create a path of solar systems.
I have the energy of
an uncrushed coffee bean
singing praises to its mother.
Oh, thank you dear giver!
For I see the light
reverberating out of my
wrist bones and
showing the silence which
accoutrement best fits.
I am wearing me in the latest fall fashion,
how nice!
I am vibrating toothpick nonsense,
I am sweet potato princess,
hinged on old selifes
taken in bad lighting.
Old cells in a
new body, flimsy and throwaway.
How do you balance?
Can I be four, five, and a billion twenty three?
I am a built-up web of contradictions
flirting each other into oblivion.
Lips hinge on every last smoked cigarette,
******* cancer down;
beautiful, dutiful disease
having its way slowly but surely with the universe.
Did you ask first?
She is a magnificent mistress who
deserves at least the tenderness
of a question.
You can do better, darling,
than a flicked eyebrow upwards and
the rolling thoughts of "Me, me, me,"
on repeat in endless sequence.
Can't you see the patterns,
the exquisite dance between
embroidery and thin willow wisps of thread?
Each one of you is
countless stitch marks,
beautiful patchwork crescents
calling out "Who is your maker?"
from the quilted cosmos.
I will catch my breath from its endless throwing,
and I will sell my soul to a constant want for knowing.
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 1:48 PM UTC
The marvel of you
Curled and sleek
Embraced me
In unfurled delight...
Gently sprung roses
Is the measure of you
Hovering uncrushed
Atop fresh morning dew,
Behold my lover's gift
A treasure to see
As my soul hummed fresh
delicious and free.
Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 8:12 AM UTC
When the first ray of dust,
Made love to the last drop of rain,
A rainbow breathed,
In the shades of grey.
A million hours of togetherness,
Thirty seconds of love.
A lifetime of burning memories,
And only a breath to make us part.
I tread that path now and then,
Making my way through leaves uncrushed.
Bleeding as I walk over,
Some diamonds scattered in the dust.
Memories’ the only undying flame,
Amidst trickling tears,
And a cold beating heart,
A friend I have lost today.
Now as I stare at the black expanse,
Into the ocean of nothingness,
As I sink and melt onto hopes unknown,
I feel the wind curling down.
After heaving a few more sighs,
I realize,
Those foot prints that we left behind,
Are gone, lost in the sands of time.
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 5:10 AM UTC
they mark their invisible boundaries by the coast
moist air fills the lungs leaving an aching throat
we say it is a part of our world
yet they should be on their own undisturbed
they grace us with their presence
filling the coast with blessings
{i Took
a smooth shell that sparks like dusk
buries within fine thin dust uncrushed
now living in a corner within the books}
though they are tarnished from their purest form
they wash into our world like dawn
mother with silken hands that’s warm
i Refuse
the world that burns cold
with a legacy building on others’ doom
for i am an alien that Cruises
all far and about with a primal desire
they may speak sweet and serene
but they can roar and conquer
bestowing swift death like a reaper
they hug
my feet that’s just inches away
soothing the beats that’s ruined and astray
legs moving till i can no longer reach the ground
i drown
within the other realm of purity
they embrace
the cuts the wounds from the other side
the world calls it death by water
but i call it a return to my origin.
Aug 28, 2025
Aug 28, 2025 at 7:56 AM UTC
Descending
into the storage box was like seeing
a Titanic
on the bottom of the sea
I
drop
layer
by
layer
through yellowed envelopes
overflowing
photos and negatives
which darken with age
and depth
Pressure rises
pipes begin to rattle and spray
threatening
the newspaper clippings
report cards, death announcements
the fragments of genetic strands
now spread about my feet
as though they'd fallen
from a great height
On the bottom sits the old house
amazingly uncrushed, porch still unswept
of maple leaves
and Mary, witness to another world
in button shoes
astride the steps like a masthead
smiling as she
maps
my
bones
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC
Remember when we first met? I could hardly hold together my head.
But then you brought me back, you cared about me losing grip.
Just when all the things around me turned and made me sick,
You hopped into my life and made me realize life's a *****
Though I struggled to move on from all the pain I hid,
You stood right behind and guided me toward strength and grit.
I can't believe the amount of love and understand you'd give.
You let me in, you let me see the kind of life you'd lived.
A sorrow tale of you alone as just a little kid.
No mom, no dad, no one to truly care if you'd been fed
You raised yourself and learned no one could ever mess with TwigZ.
An uncle taught you to take care of family and business.
Nortenos locos por Vida was the click you rolled in with.
You learned to use a gun and **** any man who started ****
By this time things were changing and they renamed you ZtickZ.
A name of pride and honor not anyone could just dismiss.
But see our lives collided quite so detrimentally
Because the way that I was raised was so much different see?
I have a family that would do most anything for me
The only problem was how broken we became quickly.
My mom she drank she never saw the flaws she made for us
She merely wanted everything from dad including us
At a young age I learned about the pain with love and trust
I had to grow up thinking life would never be uncrushed.
A sadness held onto until you came and made me trust
Your words of kindness really broke away my hate for love.
In a time of struggle you were there for me not needing much
But I soon realized that you also needed Love.
Looking back at these times brings me to a solid pause.
Because I know how lucky we both are to have found this love
Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 7:55 AM UTC
Amidst the rancor of the bar the conversation lulled. After the last "remember when?" I watched the puddle of beer foam at the bottom of my glass.
"Ohhhh..." I mutter with a fleating half-grin. As if to say "Good times" but somehow unable to do so.
He sat across from me staring not at the empty Budweisers in front of him, bit past them. He stared into shadows around the edges, the floorboards below the table, and the earth beneath that. To him if he just looked hard enough, he could almost make out the other side of the world.
He clenched the can and it made a subtle pop yet remained uncrushed.
Staring on, just louder than a whisper, with a fleating half-grin, he said "I hate my life."
Nov 23, 2017
Nov 23, 2017 at 10:42 PM UTC