"wherein" poems
it's very much easy to say
that today is the day
wherein you no longer
have feelings that grows fonder
for him— who you loved freely
but indeed so genuinely.
but your challenge
is to look at his every edge
and the way he laughs and smile
without asking for a while
if you still love him for real;
you should then infer
that you are now happier
without him— to whom you gave your all,
though from him you only got a downfall.
Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 9:22 AM UTC
When I too long have looked upon your face,
Wherein for me a brightness unobscured
Save by the mists of brightness has its place,
And terrible beauty not to be endured,
I turn away reluctant from your light,
And stand irresolute, a mind undone,
A silly, dazzled thing deprived of sight
From having looked too long upon the sun.
Then is my daily life a narrow room
In which a little while, uncertainly,
Surrounded by impenetrable gloom,
Among familiar things grown strange to me
Making my way, I pause, and feel, and hark,
Till I become accustomed to the dark.
18.6k
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 shalt taketh her to the tadpole galaxy
Than to hoag's object
Than we shalt bypass the whirpool galaxy
Than onto sombrero's bright swirl.....
Than onto the pinwheel galaxy
Wherein we shalt be its pinballs,
Than up against the blackness of God's curtain of the universe abroad.... Onto the Andromeda, LMC to, than the milky way, earth's creational dust brew....
Bode galaxy shalt open us, to terrace of the aura, I shalt swayeth with mine home (mi amour') of distant mascara....
Yet she needeth no mascara, for her eye's art already arousing, **** elegant picture's, a model made in birth, her poetic stature's daily groweth bigger....her look's art a trigger, to take thee to thy face, making thee SEEITH dream's of thing's of holy grace!!!! An elegant being, with the spirit of an eagle, she soar's me to planet x, she's pure.....
The opposite of evil!!!!!!
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 11:12 PM UTC
perhaps a subject already well covered. but I consult no one else,
who can expertly summon the artificial artifacts, no better yet,
art~iN~facts of prior expert~tease, and speak only and wholly
for myself, blatant, and openly undisguised
it is the spilling, the upward sensory explosive detonating,
in a pressured chest, the eagerness
to race, to complete,
find the next line, to define, to refine to get the balance tween
elegance and simplicity, to have the ******** sensory totality
of completely having spun off a piece of me and let it free float as a balloon, that may fly to China or get stuck on a telephone pole
just beyond my front door
=============
^ I write this midst the composition of another poem, wherein
unusually I feel the need to pause, collect my thoughts which are bombarding my atoms internal, causing a new fissionable element,
distinct and unique, my poem…next…
Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 5:02 AM UTC
Happiness is a tub of ice cream
Waiting to be eaten
Not some cute love story
Where every word was sweet
Happiness is reading a book
Waiting for each exciting chapter
Not some confession
Where every word is so predictable
Happiness is a teddy bear
Waiting to be cuddled every night
Not some bouquet of flowers
Where everyday was a life sentence
Happiness is spending time with friends
Waiting everyday to hang out
Not some time with a guy
Wherein you can't define him just as happiness
Cause he's not just your happiness,
He's your everything
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 10:38 AM UTC
SLOWLY the Moon her banderoles of light
Unfurls upon the sky; her fingers drip
Pale, silvery tides; her armoured warriors
Leave Day's bright tents of azure and of gold,
Wherein they hid them, and in silence flock
Upon the solemn battlefield of Night
To try great issues with the blind old king,
The Titan Darkness, who great Pharoah fought
With groping hands, and conquered for a span.
The starry hosts with silver lances *****
The scarlet fringes of the tents of Day,
And turn their crystal shields upon their *******
And point their radiant lances, and so wait
The stirring of the giant in his caves.
The solitary hills send long, sad sighs
As the blind Titan grasps their locks of pine
And trembling larch to drag him toward the sky,
That his wild-seeking hands may clutch the Moon
From her war-chariot, scythed and wheeled with light,
Crush bright-mailed stars, and so, a sightless king,
Reign in black desolation! Low-set vales
Weep under the black hollow of his foot,
While sobs the sea beneath his lashing hair
Of rolling mists, which, strong as iron cords,
Twine round tall masts and drag them to the reefs.
Swifter rolls up Astarte's light-scythed car;
Dense rise the jewelled lances, groves of light;
Red flouts Mars' banner in the voiceless war
(The mightiest combat is the tongueless one);
The silvery dartings of the lances *****
His fingers from the mountains, catch his locks
And toss them in black fragments to the winds,
Pierce the vast hollow of his misty foot,
Level their diamond tips against his breast,
And force him down to lair within his pit
And thro' its chinks ****** down his groping hands
To quicken Hell with horror-for the strength
That is not of the Heavens is of Hell.
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This nation
once fought
for its liberty,
its redemption,
its freedom.
Now it sets all its
rights aside
just because those who reside in this nation
simply lost the fire
that once burned in their heart.
The freedom that this nations heroes fought long ago
is being disregard.
The countrymen act like the
notion of freedom is nothing.
I dream about the nation this
piece of land used to be.
How nationalistic it once was,
how love used to fill the air.
Now, nothing remains but the memories
of what used to be.
I would honestly rather live and die
in the time wherein this nation fervently fought for its
freedom and its rights, wherein each and every person
loved its homeland, than live today
where apathy rules.
Apr 12, 2010
Apr 12, 2010 at 1:54 AM UTC
Day by day I fritter away
Observing decorum as best I may
Meet me as you meet — reserved somebody
Leave me as you leave — dull nobody
Dreary, weary, listless, spiritless
A resting spirit clamours to emerge
Unguided, wild, free and seeking
Boldly defying reserved somebody
But how, just how do I unleash this defiant spirit
For it is to cross all conceivable limits
Oh but a mask, of course a mask!
The perfect accessory for this task!
Careless of propriety
Boastful of daring
Acting against my will
Or in tandem with it?
This mask — just now I can't discern
Ponder I do with great concern
Does it shield my identity
Or render truth to it?
So now just what fun in masks
One may ponderously ask
Masks, bring to life fantasy
Fantasy, a realm of our reality
Reality, wherein lies multiplicity
Multiplicity, within each individuality
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 11:04 AM UTC
A widespread condition
related to nutrition
is lactose intolerance
that is in essence
the inability to digest and assimilate
the milk sugar-lactose-the substrate
that is acted upon by lactase-
the specific enzyme
over a period of time.
This may happen suddenly
and generally
at any age most unexpectedly.
Lactose intolerance
is caused by the absence
of the enzyme lactase
that breaks down lactose
to the simple sugars-
glucose and galactose.
The condition may be
secondary, congenital,
or developmental.
Secondary lactose intolerance
invariably has its occurrence
related to a gastrointestinal infection
and its disappearance
is linked to the causative factor’s correction.
This type of intolerance-
(certainly a nuisance)
is reversible
if we are a bit careful.
Congenital lactose intolerance,
an inherited form of intolerance,
is a rare genetic abnormality
that one can unearth
soon after an infant’s birth.
This need not cause any fear
as it lasts only half a year.
Developmental lactose intolerance
also known as primary intolerance
is one wherein the enzyme synthesis
is progressively less
during childhood
and this persists into adulthood.
Gita Ashok
24/10/2011, 2 pm
Oct 24, 2011
Oct 24, 2011 at 4:58 AM UTC
Fear the stillness whers't thou find
the dreary life and idle mind,
wherein thine own reflection lies
a baleful thing with glassy eyes.
Let horror of this fill thine heart,
to maul thy slothy core apart.
Ignite within thine blighted soul,
a fire that should cleanse it whole.
Let passion rouse it from thine state,
that thou shalt grasp the skeins of fate.
Thus boldly stride a person who,
was born, hath died, is born anew.
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 3:27 AM UTC
We'd bound around
For golf downtown
Frisbees always in hand
"The students are coming!!”
Was a seasonal refrain
As we’d goofily gallivant
Mother’s Day shows
We‘re free, mother-suckers
For your kids, a show we grant
A CLOWN SHOW!
A DOWNTOWN SHOW!
THERE IS NOTHING WE CAN’T!
Rock their world with juggling
See the Doctor for what ails
Rudi and O in laundromat land
Jeanie, Splash, Allison, Donna,
Silly girls astonishing with
Leaps, jokes and handstands
Chewey, Steamboat and Grog
"Yeah-yeah! Yeah-yeah!”
Silly boys grandstanding
All hail Papa Gale! We
Funned with Cpt. Plunge
Leader of the band!
Sweet Georgia!
**** croquet!*
It was grand!
**** croquet was the official lawn game of the Sweet Georgia Brown Clowns during the summer 198x Trinity Country tour [wherein we masqueraded as a Norwegian Salmon Kissing team at a Moose Lodge Talent Show in Lewiston, CA* {true!}]: “Don’t forget your hat!”)
*(we won)
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 9:11 PM UTC
VIII. TO ARES (17 lines)
(ll. 1-17) Ares, exceeding in strength, chariot-rider, golden-
helmed, doughty in heart, shield-bearer, Saviour of cities,
harnessed in bronze, strong of arm, unwearying, mighty with the
spear, O defence of Olympus, father of warlike Victory, ally of
Themis, stern governor of the rebellious, leader of righteous
men, sceptred King of manliness, who whirl your fiery sphere
among the planets in their sevenfold courses through the aether
wherein your blazing steeds ever bear you above the third
firmament of heaven; hear me, helper of men, giver of dauntless
youth! Shed down a kindly ray from above upon my life, and
strength of war, that I may be able to drive away bitter
cowardice from my head and crush down the deceitful impulses of
my soul. Restrain also the keen fury of my heart which provokes
me to tread the ways of blood-curdling strife. Rather, O blessed
one, give you me boldness to abide within the harmless laws of
peace, avoiding strife and hatred and the violent fiends of
death.
5.6k
It's not usual for me to be writing a poem this early
But since I can't sleep yet and my soul seemed empty
Here I am typing the words that came out eagerly
The concept that was pushed out of bravery
I lost my Sunshine and so darkness evaded
Ate my emotion and in Heaven I was rejected
On Earth I stayed trapped, bruised, and depleted
Away from the jewels all my life I have venerated
Pain is inevitable but at the same time curable
To a heart that is wounded, aftermath is memorable
Recovering from the incident is somewhat imaginable
Though at times it may seem unfathomable
It's hard to understand when your mind is shut
And the only thing that's open is your mouth and a "but"
A hint to a conversation is all but a gut
To start things through from where they should start
I would like to apologize to those I've caused hurt
With those words I've uttered and hearts I may have burnt
An instance wherein I lose control of my emotion
Such a lame and deep sign of depression
Before I end this short release
I thank thee for the glimpse
Writing this gave me peace
And hope it did give you ease
May 2, 2011
May 2, 2011 at 8:43 PM UTC
So breaks the sun earth's rugged chains,
Wherein rude winter bound her veins;
So grows both stream and source of price,
That lately fettered were with ice.
So naked trees get crisped heads,
And colored coats the roughest meads,
And all get vigor, youth, and spright,
That are but looked on by his light.
5.4k
The place was dangerous as hell; we had no business being there. It was a complex, composed of four immense structures, looming on the bluffs between Lake Michigan and a ghost town. I'm not sure which side of the fence brought forth more eeriness - the sight of four massive industrial skeletons was indeed an eerie one, but within the village that must endure it's haunting presence persists a dwindling heartbeat... and together they produced a heightened effect of slow decay - and that was what drew me in.
The place was magnificent day or night.
By day, we'd explore the groundworks while the light allowed us to admire the massive machinery, which by then had accumulated copious amounts of corrosion. All those dead giants, never to function again. In the spring time, beams of light would penetrate the ceiling above, caving in from years of stress sans stress tests. Even when the light was not shining through, one could make out where the beams have been because in their wake they left a trail of life. Up to that point in my life I thought that was the most beautiful scene I had ever seen - a thousand tons of old machinery, and a stubborn sunbeam poking through, incubating it's au natural industrialized chia pet.
By night, we would ascend to the rooftops of these four story horror stories and gaze up at the stars. Sometimes, when our ***** were feeling particularly swelled, we'd venture across the rooftops as if in some post-apocalyptic videogame. And sometimes when we were feeling a bit rebellious and artistic, we'd bring along some cans of spray paint and redecorate to our desire. Oh, and another reason the place reeked of death was surely due to it being a glue factory... wherein horses were killed in order to gain access to their foot-stuff. I was told by an unfortunate local that they'd bury the unwanted horse parts in big pits back behind the place... this man had told me that he fell into one while wandering around back there - nearly died trying to get out.
We knew the place was soon to be leveled, but we did not know when. Eventually I ended up moving out of state for a while, and alas, upon my return my childhood fascination was no more. shrugs... So it goes.
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 4:18 AM UTC
A lake as still as still — a cloudless sky —
A bird-less forest — silent as the page,
That monk-like sits reflecting for an age
On pious deeds exalted upon high,
The page gilded in wisdom, lauded by
Its maker’s peers, wherein is set the stage
For Nature’s bountied beauty — I give homage
Unto its gifted craftsman, one that I
Have oft’ with envious eyes admired afar,
And matchless to his art, have grasped for skill
Far far above my grade — From him to me
Has come a gift as bright as Keats' Bright Star —
Unto thy lake, may this stone rend the still,
And loose thy songbird skywards, Timothy.
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 3:14 AM UTC
The shadows have their seasons, too.
The feathery web the budding maples
cast down upon the sullen lawn
bears but a faint relation to
high summer's umbrageous weight
and tunnellike continuum-
black leached from green, deep pools
wherein a globe of gnats revolves
as airy as an astrolabe.
The thinning shade of autumn is
an inherited Oriental,
red worn to pink, nap worn to thread.
Shadows on snow look blue. The skier,
exultant at the summit, sees his poles
elongate toward the valley: thus
each blade of grass projects another
opposite the sun, and in marshes
the mesh is infinite,
as the winged eclipse an eagle in flight
drags across the desert floor
is infinitesimal.
And shadows on water!-
the beech bough bent to the speckled lake
where silt motes flicker gold,
or the steel dock underslung
with a submarine that trembles,
its ladder stiffened by air.
And loveliest, because least looked-for,
gray on gray, the stripes
the pearl-white winter sun
hung low beneath the leafless wood
draws out from trunk to trunk across the road
like a stairway that does not rise.
4.7k
i.
heretofore bygone week's
Tis I was layden in mine outgoing's;
Incapacitated, mine feet's step's unknowing.
ii.
Dolor rolled as Boulder's
Down mine emptied innard's;
Jinn filled with hate and sin, tooketh over.
iii.
They tried to possesseth me
And diluteth me by their fear's;
They scratched, and bit, all didst spit
Yet mien reine reigned in by chariot flares.
iv.
Mount Mayon, in southern Luzon
Volcanoe's surround her citadel;
She snatched me from the barbarian's
In heaven, whence in hell.
v.
Manila in the concentrate
Between the thickness of it all;
Is where mine rose, her face didst gloweth
Her virtue's were one, of the prophet's and high law.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication/Reyna/hari/soulmates
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 5:01 AM UTC
i.
She hath given me a home
Sent by God she was;
Unearthly, to men unknown.
ii.
She hath breathed the breathe
Of life;
Wherein all is right.
iii.
She showeth me day
In mine dismay;
She's the sparkle to me, at night.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 4:38 AM UTC
today you took me by surprise,
bright smile, dancing eyes,
loosened the noose on yet another lonely day,
wherein the depths of these shadows I do lay,
again, you came a-light,
golden skin, heart a-flight,
taking the time to share some of your life with me,
the very essence of your softly sweet vitality,
beauty, you breathe the skies,
today you took me by surprise
Sep 4, 2010
Sep 4, 2010 at 1:33 AM UTC
The singing of phones cut midway
The conversations that flow exactly after
The unnoticed change from night to day
The difference in context of everything that mattered
Now there was...
The silence of phones that used to ring nonstop
The ringing of phones currently unanswered
The mornings when it's impossible to get up
The middays wherein silence is heard
The nights when it's impossible to sleep
The midnights when eyes won't even blink
The day breaks that slowly creep
The dawns that felt like the sun was going to sink
The dusks wherein the rain poured
The fading daylight which was warmly gazed upon
The darkness of a nightfall which enveloped that unspoken word
The gust of air that continues changing from here on
The burning of letters that should have existed
And
The writing of letters that no longer exist
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 5:43 AM UTC
I dated two robots yesterdays
Both were programmed to service me well
We did things
In the same
good old
learned order
of doing things
And after sunset
we kissed
at the beach
With one -
our feet touching
With the other -
our view inviting
the rush of salty waves
Alas
Both robots could suddenly
not speak
One even bluffed
he had a virus in throat
AI intelligence?!
jaa ha ha
The other was hanging just with
With variations of
what do you feels
Tell me your fantasy s
‘Don't think
tell me whatever comes first’ s
And
I believe
And
I say
But
Mine is what he can't understand
His’ is
I think a drink on the beach
But unfortunately I don't drink
Using coconut biotica only
These days
Ahhahhaa
...
While they chatted so well!
Without any error of a word to spell!
…
I dated two robots yesterday
That sighed only to say
I can't believe I am holding yous
How much I missed yous
Hugging robots
Vibrating robots
Robots with small mouth and twister tongue
Ready to penetrate into mine at a slightest chance of an opening
A disguised disgust of my sincere failure
not towards the robot but myself
Hiding you still under my palate
from where the soma of your love drips
Now as if forcefully been replaced
to a taste of this preprogrammed chatalike
Have they lost their voice because of my best dress
or maybe the fantasy of the sandy bikini
which they will never see
in the dark wherein
Both hiding their face
But I see
By my loose body parts
Maybe a lookalike
But I ain't no robot
Oh my sandy bikini
Oh Chosen so carefully
To rejuvenate their fantasy
a different pattern for each-
yes. I do take care of that!
Stays now
as an Everly Brothers’ dream
In my mind only
But
My ‘okey ‘ is an ensuring
‘yes yes’ the Indian way
Of course
They did their best
Seriously
Thus
A big CHAPEAU
For the zest
That obviously still can break china hearts
I took it as a test
To get to know me better
Let me be broken through your dream
Let me cry and shake and perceive an angry cloudy color world
let my remains of china burst
I dated two robots yesterdays
while expecting for a man
Thankfully though
these are yesterdays
Today I met a true man
A gypsy
We will date sometime
Play tabla and darbuka
Drink dance and sing
And sleep
To salute the sun
early in the morning
At the beach
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 2:58 AM UTC