"unimpeded" poems
Hear ye, hear ye
hearken from the medieval times of old
where knights in the round once roamed
jousting with deeds fought in truth and honor
to protect the weak, the helpless, the oppressed
with an ideology lurking since the dawn of time
that all are born free, unshackled from contrived ordeals
only to soar high with the eagles to become one with the heavens
and bask in the glory of serving the frailty and holiness of mankind
Hear ye, hear ye
it’s Merlin conjuring a magical spell for the spirit
to behold, to marvel, new stages of self-enlightenment
where the essence of the King invades sleeping visions
possibly foretelling ominous events awaiting new missions
or predestined journeys one must endure to become so bold
in knowledge and wisdom offered, living in this world’s mold
not necessarily realized, instead shrouded with unimpeded urges
akin to the signs found in youth, immaturity, the close-minded
Hear ye, hear ye
the quest to sip from the Carpenter’s silver chalice
and taste charitable love for family, friends, and foes
where reckless pride and hatred are speared with the arrow
forged in devotion of a noble belief, tempered with selfless feats
where the sun rises and sets on the wicked actions of human nature
slaughtering the divine lights prematurely, locked within many souls
yet crusades against evil continues, no retreat, no regrets, no surrender
price to uphold the spirit of Camelot, payment in full, services rendered.
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 1:36 AM UTC
To have them shipped across the sea,
sitting like ornamental drops
tinsel strung around your eyes
pocketed the tree
walking down sunset avenue
reeking of bamboo stalks and water chestnuts
looking for a place to submerge your treasure
with a rattling breath do you deflate
And the Oak trunk that grows unimpeded
hanging her branches
caressing the Spaniard shingles
the clay missionary tabs
touching the stucco with a golden blade
of sunlight
cutting a thousand little strips
to hang about the face
moving a thousand miles a second
stopped in place with the quiet repose
of a yoga state
humming and shimmering
yet let me be sweet oak tree.
And I wander through the canyon boulevard
between the rocky cliffs and the endless riff
of surf-rock echoed off skate parks
and riding the PC
highway hair bedraggled and snaked into next week
lingering bonfire on the cotton shirt
plant for plant
*** for tat
seed to breed
Now dance, you and me.
Insinuation
drooling salivary tongue full
bacon
pigging out on burgers
getting red-eyes from vegans
smoking plants
murderers
We squirt,
relish on the act of dying
all things dying
choking life second by second
dying to live.
Staring at neon fins lining the gravel lot
Koi flickering beneath the celestial night
Suspended pondwater
pondering
In surfce tension
the deep mysteries of life
Tracing the snake through the winding streams
we watch atop the rooftop
Gaia
Taking in the burgeoning
Ocean of incandescent tangerine
and Peyote-light
Cacti hidden somewhere between
the quiet slumber of mindless streets
aligned by formless hands
Drinking the mescaline
air
Twisting the nightly moments
as locks of hair
I curled them, slipping, within my fingertips
tracing the long winding road of Tao
along her shoulders
Enraptured by her sensual bliss
When I finally drifted along the clouded memories
of divine rumbling eyes
she disappeared into the sky
blinking along the Jet turbines
Never meant to be mine
for more than a night
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 12:25 AM UTC
The Crickets cackle “crisp,”
With an only interruption, being I,
Atop dust, whisper and
Desert highway.
I’d tell you if I were running,
But I’m not quite sure, not yet,
Leaving the Coyote to eat,
Respite, and devoured,
The singing Crickets,
A’howl later,
To deliver answers unimpeded.
I have a faint memory –
A snake’s grip promised, via hand and
Crystal contingency,
“Wiser,” once bestowed, the mystic;
An epic complete, atop 17 years of thunder,
Steel stained crimson,
Street stained whimper
And forever remaining,
“Under-construction.”
Symbolic a more relevant scaffold,
½ bamboo and the other steel, the tower,
Note ‘fore me, it’s only purpose –
Elsewhere, and anonymous,
While I tap my belly to some
Melody we’d once enjoyed;
Maybe something by, “Coltrane,”
Or maybe not; but music we’d both
Recognize and reminisce too.
It’s an awkward alchemy of sorts,
As the Crickets, post-mortem,
Persist if only to chirp, and the Coyote mulls.
When the dust continues to cake.
When the whisper finds newer ears.
When interrupt’s abrupt, erupts,
Pacifies and interrupts again;
My precious distraction –
An amnesia loyal in away from, “then.”
Somewhere beyond, “there,”
And onward, “anew.”
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 4:17 PM UTC
I
I am in Cardiff
Where foams pummel the jetty
I am in Cardiff
Where crab skeletons blanch the beach
I am in Cardiff
Where the Pilot Star became a conch
I was in the ruse of age
Where the young kiss
I was in Joshua Tree
Where the mind is thoughtless
I am a grove's wilting
I will be an unbearable urge
And I am shivering in Santa Ana near Bristol and 1st
II
There is intent when the addict mutters --
Estranged in his unhappy gutters --
"Life is cheap and love is free."
Hopelessness's epitome
Sits naked beyond the wall.
There is derision in the dealer's call --
Osmium-heat in an unimpeded fall --
"You can't change who you are."
Greed could tear down a star
To sculpt into a Cardiff shell.
Warrant breeds within a child's yell.
III
I am in Cardiff
Where foams pummel the jetty
I am in Cardiff
Where crab skeletons blanch the beach
I am in Cardiff
Where the Pilot Star became a conch
I was in the ruse of age
Where the young kiss
I was in Joshua Tree
Where the mind is thoughtless
I am a grove's wilting
I will be an unbearable urge
And I am shivering in Santa Ana near Bristol and 1st
Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 1:44 AM UTC
Arduous late Winter
woes amplify in February
false hope
We’re all sick
of constrictive clothes
and cold climes conducive to staying in
Cabin fever running rampant
45° t-shirts & sunglasses
everyone driving with their windows down
Hoping Vernal rituals
performed early will
hasten Spring’s arrival
I’m done
fed up
ready to move on
Going crazy in the cold
writhing to get moving unimpeded
by frigidness and snow
I’m ready for Spring
for Summer
for Fall
I’m ready for the scent
of thawing soil in the air
biking in the Sun, verdance, and flowers in bloom
I’m ready for grass between my toes
Fireflies, crickets, peepers
and warm night stars
I’m sick of frost reddened runny raw noses
sick of numb fingers and toes
and having precious few daylight hours
I’m sick of combatting glacial winds with layers,
of treacherous icy apathy,
and dreary bleak boredom
I’m sick of not being able to sit on the ground
sick of long pants, long socks, long sleeves,
and silent stagnant long nights
So, despite the fact
that I’ll pine for January
every day over 90°
Despite the fact
that when mosquitoes swarm
I’ll wish a frost would **** the little ********
and despite the fact
I’ll get just as fed up
with temperate seasons
I still want Spring
and then Summer
and then Fall
But February brings false hope
and despite the lengthening cheery sun
months still stand
between us and t-shirt weather
mild nights, grassy hills,
and emancipation from an inclement icebox atmosphere
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 8:50 AM UTC
i.
Barefoot, the sod tickling ourn toe's
Aquamarine, cometh mine queen;
Down the trail's of immortality
We shalt go.
ii.
Long happily ever after
None more manacle's;
To fasten ourn wrist's
For we shalt be unimpeded, by eachother's kiss.
iii.
Let the other's wish
Who art jealous;
Of ourn vow's of dedication
This is reality, not some t.v station.
iv.
We shalt build a nation
Out of the Philippine's;
And Greece
Combined.
v.
A concoction of
The finest Misamis Occidental lambanog;
And the relish of
Thine own king's santorini assyrtiko white wine.
©Brandon cory nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley/ Filipino rose dedication
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 9:15 PM UTC
This is not atrocity
This is the basement
This is the sea receding like lips to reveal tooth-like shells
Amongst the bullet casings and corpses felled leaving the boats
This is the sand like an inverted moat around the
Kingdom at sea, and this is the Remainder.
Yet they remain jubilantly-
Is this what being jubilant means?
Chamomile anklets adorning a hanged child.
This is not atrocity,
Ignorance wielding pitchforks and fire.
Anger alight and hostility riled
This is not atrocity.
This is not far from this reality;
Remember this child-
And the mob piled like tinder on themselves
Convincing carrion feeders
And unimpeded breeders that
Halt the march of science that
This is not atrocity.
The certain hot song by which Earth is greeted
Has an immediately recognizable tune.
And
This is not atrocity;
It sounds more like ****** ******
But I can't hear it
And I have no fear anymore
I open my eyes to another routine killing, and I know-
This is atrocity-
But a necessary one.
It's hardly enough to stay alive
And as I and we strive for
Money and coffee and love,
I and we let
atrocity
enter us.
Climb into us like a hand does a glove,
or a puppet.
It is not nature;
Nor fate;
And one needn't be dead
to appreciate the ability to open the senses
and actually sense.
And this,
I am certain,
Is not an atrocity
May 21, 2010
May 21, 2010 at 8:30 PM UTC
What is happening right now...
You say I feel like native petals
of somewhere you've never been.
Soft and mysterious,
exotic and raw.
Bewitching you to absorb the aura.
My web in which you spin.
I say you feel like steel
surrounded by marsh in deep bayous.
Strong and intriguing,
arcane and fierce.
Luring me to immerse in your essence.
Your web in which I spin.
Backwards it seems we have tumbled into each other...
Bodies knowing
new flesh.
Minds welcoming
familiar allies.
Spirits embracing
old friends.
Connecting erupts
a verbal rampage.
Words spilling on top of one another.
Passing sentences half formed
back and forth.
Beginning of my thoughts
turns into ends of your understanding.
The sun hasn't risen and slept
in the time we have mesmerized each other.
But yet you say you feel like
you've known me your whole life.
Like a shadow that's been around
just never taking form...
And I can't agree more.
So I say nothing...
Just sit here and not think and adore,
your passionate voice, your shy laugh, your tempered sighs,
your fluid movement, your assailable face, your unimpeded body.
I unknowingly mimic you and you me and we dance intuitively.
Until we exhaust ourselves to sleep.
Who knows if tomorrow will bury our today...
© NDHK
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 4:54 AM UTC
*Baptise me
In the glow
Of your halo
Traces of euphoria
Courses through my blood
A riot in my head births
As I recall the day
You marched
Into my hollow
Inflaming
A magnificent tempest
That fill the pages
Of all that I write
Your words
Weaved into the intricate spaces
Of my impenetrable heart
To leave it radiating
Unimpeded adoration.*
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 3:02 PM UTC
Lured
by unspeakable, ineluctable gravity
Kisses, vehement, and by no means our first,
speak of experience, a wordless wisdom that now gives flight to innocence,
unprecedented familiarity among two who have spoken so little
a gentle tug of war between souls, transcending feeble sensation, arriving at conversation
Solid, fervid, with perfection of cadence – a meter aberrant, fantastic, unimpeded by numerical confines
Now
a limitless tickling between two souls
like courting doves
And the smoke in your mouth became sweet,
your saliva a quenching potion of forgetfulness,
And at this moment neither past nor future have ever existed,
There is only this delicious wine of our lips and the nonsensical ***********
of two sipping souls.
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 1:23 AM UTC
a salutation, a benediction, a good wish
yet one so troubling, not from a lacking,
of sincerity
but from opacity
opacity~ the quality or state of a body that makes it impervious to the rays of light; the condition of lacking transparency or translucence; opaqueness
"Because space is a vacuum,
these good wish waves
can travel unimpeded and at
a constant speed through empty space,
eventually interacting with objects like
planets and telescopes upon arrival"
but I am not a vacuum, a void, and
do not exist within one,
here in my surroundings,
is much interface interference,
the light you send, has
bounced around endlessly
forever, till it may have hit
its intended target,
me
within, without,
and surely has picked up
some tagalong
amoeba, bacteria,
outside contradictories
that may have changed its very nature,
its purity disturbed,
"Pure light" contains a single wavelength or frequency
and cannot be broken down into other colors
but my confusion is indeed a spectrum of Joseph's many colors,
clashing and thrashing with each other,
cohering but not of necessity,
cohering, this a metaphor,
you so lightly send my way,
let us redirect its warm sensibility sensitivity,
let us take an /our inner glow; diffuse
if one cannot send light across the cosmos,
maybe across the Interpet, but just verbally,
send to me
please, absolutely,
tagged "for immediate delivery"
and I will store
all of it,
in my glass jar,
next to my heart,
and just
glow from within
to the with out
Sep 30, 2025
Sep 30, 2025 at 5:04 PM UTC
The flower opens softly.
Welcomes the sun into its depths.
The seeds slowly take flight,
Wandering between shafts of sunlight.
A baker walks home after work.
He, or she. They nod to a passerby.
Must be friends.
How nice.
A ribbon falls gently from the hair
Of a little girl.
Tied there loosely, as it was.
The wind had no trouble starting the dance,
That would lead it fluttering down the busy street.
I smell you, see you,
Hear the call of the ocean.
The roll and rumble.
The fall, and tumble.
Maybe I've just had too
Much salt water today.
The muscles contract.
Air flows through the tube, to bring about
The vibrations of song, and moonlit afternoons.
Laughter floats unimpeded into the wind.
I must be insane to think
That my feet actually touch the ground.
I'm sure they just fall through it.
I really shouldn't walk in graveyards anymore.
Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 11:35 PM UTC
I live my life according to what I feel like inside
And mostly, I feel free
Unimpeded
Exempt from anything that can control, restrain, or burden me
I am an independent and uninhibited person
A nonconformist
I think for myself
I observe quietly and muster even the smallest of details
I love to learn but I always form my own opinions
I possess my own distinctive understanding of life and the world around me
And I don't allow myself to be weighed down by the troubles of every day life
I take it day by day
I am me and I am free
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 10:51 PM UTC
"Someday death will take us to another star."
~~Vincent Van Gogh
Painter paint star-spattered-pathways--purple passion patterns;
Grant me glimpses of immortality in indigo inspirations,
Guide me through galaxies glued inside translucent eyelids
With pulsating ivory globes.
Ascending into your astral aspirations,
Fractured atoms crumble into cerulean strings--
Unimpeded by crawling speed of light,
Suspended, momentarily held by moon's golden blood.
Hurtling throughout cobalt cosmic chaos,
Catapulted into vermillion vortex,
Realms rescinding into realms,
Macrocosms into macrocosms--malleable meldings.
Absorbing ancient ancestral dust,
Ten times ten thousand particles emblazened;
Universal union--super-nova soul's rebirth.....
Adrift within a Van Gogh sky.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
She painted him a sky without seams
In the viscous darkness of disruptions
Slowed slurred by lullabies of suffering
She gave away to glorified night sanctified
Whilst the warmth of juxtaposition clings
Morning yawns in contiguity of his arms
Brutal destructive hurricane claimed her crown
He'd be the healer of pain crawling broken and shame
Trapped she struggled with some consecrate demons
Lifted up the smoke paradox from his mouldering mind
Written in the scriptures she is rain nestled in the clouds
Exculpated the gray prisoner he never took the blame
Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 7:27 PM UTC
The depletion of a beating heart, unimpeded to even start.
Down where the feelings concedes from the beginning.
Misleading as you succeed through the indubitable scheming.
Repeating; repeating; repeating -
The moments of despair
from first lips touch.
A taste of tongues,
the caress of skin.
Fighting words
till fists occurred.
The end draws nearer...
Every breath a guttural sound.
Elegant fingers of death,
wrapping around a pale neck.
(The bringer of demise.)
Here and now.
I don't understand how,
such a creature has come now,
at such a perfect interval,
of space and time.
but
If I let you by,
I'm bound to lose my mind.
...
..
.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 10:56 PM UTC
Pit of eternal darkness,
Festering inside my soul,
Lost to a new sense of bleakness,
This warmth brought to cold.
Regret and sadness from the void,
Feelings that I never felt.
This facade once destroyed,
Feel the pain that is dealt.
Why this pain in my chest,
Stinging and sharply beating.
Is there any cloth or vest,
An armor or sheeting?
Is it possible to go,
Unimpeded by my evil,
To the place were time is slow,
And without this ache so ill.
How can I feel what was lost,
Tucked and forgotten,
Paying for that true cost,
See what my mind distraughted.
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 2:21 PM UTC
you lay in bed
and transfix your eyes on any old thing
this is as easy as life gets
they find the ceiling fan
it isn't on, but it's doing just the same as you
this is good, right?
you ponder on things
that are so far gone
like the last time you hugged your brother
or the last time you wrote him a letter
and never sent it out
downward spiral
you become lost; cradled by longevity
but in an unsettling way
you think about how life is too drawn out
to do this everyday
this mindset is torture
atrocious clouds, unimpeded
they encompass your brain
and an unwelcome curious side
consumes you
i wonder what death is like?
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
This evening, the sun has set in raspberry blush and apricot.
Beckoning down with it those trees that shift through emerald tones the shadowed grass has forgot.
She lies draped, feasting, curved - carved not in marble but with
the ochre the trees leak when the sun is high
Deep and rich. Hands dig into figs and pull the insides out, ******* the ambrosia dry
Leaving fingertips dripping in rose-hip gold oil
myrrh that lights up that dusky soil
So when you touch the ground here, the mud is soft like the moonlight over her
And the juniper berries oft get stuck between your teeth
and make the air taste sweet.
Reflections in water mark no shimmering Daphne. She is flesh and blood
That desires not only to eat, drink and dance
But to feel full in her heart, to cry when needed
Flawed as a child is. She pulls her hair back from her face too regularly
and spits out cherry stones like a boy unimpeded.
And above her head soft stars form in Ariadne's guise
A vision of rich apples and pears, dark by midnight skies.
Nov 24, 2017
Nov 24, 2017 at 4:05 PM UTC
If naming is to **** you remain a rose to me, or consciousness of Spring and thunderstorms with lightning strikes on green hills sporting tiny, yellow triangles on poles.
They pulsate in windy gusts of hail. The others would **** you out of the short grass, just to play on.
You have no value to them in their minute, diesel-powered, plastic cages.
Mowed shortly, rose, is the grass, so that their ***** can roll, unimpeded by friction with you-- your shape
and your form.
Your red, in the aftermath of a gray cloud is pernicious and sodry.
They don't want you, rose. They value you less than the sand they fall into. You are something outside of their game and they don't smell your odor at all. You could be the shortest tree, they'd chip away from you, regardless.
Why, rose, do you insist on planting yourself on their putridly pristine links?
Why not, rather, lie beside me, unraveled and plucked, on my bed? I get more pleasure from your dissection and thorny vulnerability.
I will cut your stem, yet feed you in a vase;
You'll grow before I take you apart.
Rose, we're all going to unravel-- some with fewer petals, some with fewer strokes.
But why be decimated by those who swing aimlessly the metal rod?
My lips, rose, and my tongue, don't play golf.
And aren't you glad?
When the thunder clashes and the rain comes, they can't play
but we can.
Mar 12, 2012
Mar 12, 2012 at 1:25 PM UTC
Life has provided me with circles
Infinite paths that lead to endless crossroads
A maze of possibilities etched in clay
And defined by a tormented soul
I am one that has fallen into hell
Sometimes I wake to music
A familiar tune that echoes from childhood
When rainbows were good omens
And the night passed unimpeded
Now I pray for that endless sleep
Where the night is infinite
And the soul is nullified
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 8:44 AM UTC
Flap after flap, muscles straining,
Any headway immediately counteracted
By a fresh gust.
Every valiant effort proves fruitless;
Fixed firmly in place despite the strain
And frustration.
'Til at last, shifting slightly to the left,
You fly away, unimpeded,
To a new destination.
Jun 29, 2012
Jun 29, 2012 at 9:57 AM UTC
I was Sitting here
Waiting
Waiting for the world to inspire
Inspire me to write
To laugh
To do
Waiting for the world to tell me
How
How to motivate
How to do
What needs to be done
How to create a world to be won
Nothing
I waited
For nothing
I waited to be acted upon
I had no reason to be here
Then one day the motivation struck
Just for 10 minutes
10 minutes
Is all you needed
You appeared in my life
Like a vision in a dream
I had only planned strife
You put a stop to that scheme
You said I was worth it
In your eyes a gleam
You gave me a motivation
I’ve had never before seen
Never mattered location
You opened for me a new door
This life the old me envies
My heart no longer poor
Happiness no longer on a distant shore
Ten minutes and all this was spun into motion
Inside my head you started a commotion
A storm now rages inside
Emotions that burst forth
From a long ago place
You inspired me to write
To dream
To laugh
To do
To live
No longer am I waiting to put effort into action
You’ve given me the how
How to do what needs to be done
You’ve started creating
A world to be won
The world we needed
And this world is better than I could have imagined.
And all it took was ten minutes unimpeded
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
Watching the water as it flows around the rocks
Gently pushing through unimpeded
Combing itself around so elegantly
It truly is beautiful to watch
Calms my mind, my fingers, my heart, and my soul
Reminds me of the blood flowing through my veins
Tells me I’m only human, my mortality indefinite
To enjoy these simple pleasures in life
To find an opportunity in what comes my way
Helping me to find my inner color and inner peace
Become one with the nature surrounding my physical self
Wrapping it up around me like a blanket
Show my love for everything I have
I am an effigy suspended on a bridge of time
Embracing what is to come my way
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 5:25 PM UTC