"xiv" poems
I.
Pangalawang pagkakataon?
Karapat-dapat ka pa ba para doon?
Matapos **** saktan ang damdamin.
Ganun-ganun nalang ba ‘yun?
II.
Hindi mo alam ang dinanas kong hirap,
Habang ikaw, hayun at nagpapasarap.
Ang hirap mabuhay ng wala ka,
Dahil sanay na akong nasa tabi kita.
III.
Pero pinilit kong tumayo para mabuhay!
Sinanay ko ang sarili na wala ka,
At lahat ng pagkalimot nagawa na.
Pero ang sugat sa puso'y naghihilom pa.
IV.
Matapos ang isang taon,
Landas natin ay muling nagkita.
Akala ko lahat ng ala-ala'y wala na.
Akala ko nakaraos na ako sa sakit, hindi pa pala.
V.
Iiwasan sana kita kaso braso mo'y ibinuka,
Para tayong nagpapatintero sa kalsada.
Pagkat humihingi ka ng sandali,
Para makapag-usap tayong maigi.
VI.
Pumayag ako,
Kahit alam kong masasaktan lang ako.
Kahit alam kong 'di pa kaya ng puso ko.
Pumayag ako!
VII.
Bakas sa mukha mo ang pagkatuwa!
Dahil sa wakas masasabi mo na,
Kung bakit ka nalang nangiwan bigla.
Aaminin ko, ako rin ay nakaramdam ng kaunting tuwa.
VIII.
Pero hindi ko yun ipinahalata,
Sapagkat, kung iyon ay iyong makikita,
Marahil ika'y umasa na pinatawad na kita.
Mali! Maling mali!
IX.
Napa-usog ka bahagya at nagbuntong hininga pa.
Napahawak ka saking braso, tumingin sa aking mga mata.
Sinabi mo lahat ng dahilan kong bakit ako iniwan,
Ako ay naliwanagan sa iyong mga tinuran.
X.
Humihingi ka ng pangalawang pagkakataon,
Pero hindi ko yun ganun-ganun.
Tugon ko'y: “Aking pag-iisipan” at umalis na lamang.
Hinabol mo ako’t sinabing: “Mahal kita 'di kita kinalimutan.”
XI.
Hindi ako sumagot at sa paglalakad diretso lamang.
Pero alam ko sa sarili kong mahal pa rin kita.
Alas dose na at diwa ko’y gising pa,
Dahil sa aking naaalala ang ating muling pagkikita.
XII.
Napag-isip-isip kung dapat pa bang pagbigyan kita.
Kahit na alam ko sa sarili kong mahal pa rin kita,
Nagdadalawang isip pa rin ako baka masaktan na naman ulit ako.
Hanggang ngayon naguguluhan pa rin ako.
XIV.
Dumaan ang dalawang linggo,
At sinipat mo na ako sa bahay ko.
Halatang nasasabik ka na sa isasagot ko.
Niyakap kita ng mahigpit sumigaw ng “Oo!”
XV.
Sa una'y nagtataka ka pa sa kinilos ko,
At hanggang sa unti-unti kang nangiti.
Dahil naliwagan na ang loko.
Matagal ko ng pinag-isipan 'to at “Oo” ang sagot ko.
XVI.
At dahil mahal pa kita, hindi ko na natiis pa,
Hindi sapat ang mga daliri ko kung gaano ko,
Lubos na pinag-isipan ang isasagot ko sa'yo.
At magmamahalan tayo muli, sa pangalawang pagkakataon.
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC
i.
She's beautiful. She's an angel. She's everything we asked for. I cried for the hopes and dreams of a future that was never mine. I didn't know any better, so I kept crying.
xiv.
*You can't run around like before anymore. Don't get your knees ***** Elbows off the table. Grow up.* I brushed my hands of the dirt and picked myself up, because ladies weren't supposed to pick earthworms out of the grass. I picked up eyeliner instead.
xvi.
I'm trusting you. Don't get into trouble. Don't do anything dumb. There's something satisfying about hearing the roar of an engine at the start of a July evening. With the wind in your hair, freedom at your finger tips, I could have done anything. But I shut off the car and went inside.
xviii.
You're grown up now. You're an adult. You can't afford to make stupid mistakes anymore. I was composed of keg stands, one night stands, roommates, 2am Taco Bell runs, first dates, caffeine, prayers, tears, insecurities, heart to heart talks, "just try it, it's fun, I swear", friends that turn into bridesmaids, broken promises and broken hearts. I can still hear the train's whistle.
xxi.
I told you not to do anything dumb. I told you not to make stupid mistakes. I don't know what to tell you anymore. Here's a standing ovation to being immortal; hats off to the teary drunken nights and the existential crises. These are the days that we'll look back and wish we never wasted and I'll wonder why I let you wipe your muddy shoes on me.
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 2:57 AM UTC
stab in the belly
cravings for the forbidden
quiet resentment
constant comparing to you
always unattainable
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 5:12 AM UTC
i.
Imagine, mine love
I'm on one knee;
ii.
Imagine mine love
No distance in-between;
iii.
Imagine mine love,
Thine glimmering
Wedding ring:
iv.
Imagine mine love
Preordainment's best
To bring;
v.
Imagine mine love
Angel's that wilt
Sing;
vi.
Imagine mine love
Just us two;
vii.
Imagine mine love
Making love upon new moon's;
viii.
Imagine mine love
Enthroned as mine muse;
ix.
Imagine mine love
Osculating that wilt soothe;
x.
Imagine mine love
Mine finger's stroke thy strand's;
xi.
Imagine mine love
On the sea of love we dance;
xii.
Imagine mine love
No world, nor worldly plan's;
xiii.
Imagine mine love
Toe's locked, buried neath' the sand;
xiv.
Imagine mine love
Hand held to hand in hand;
xv.
Imagine mine love
Thy head upon
Mine chest;
xvi.
Imagine mine love
The thought of nothingness;
xvii.
Imagine mine love
Mind free from pain and stress.
xviii.
Imagine mine love
Imagine mine love
This;
©Brandon Nagley
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 9:28 PM UTC
JE ME SOUVIENS (I REMEMBER) by Céline Leduc 12/2013
I REMEMBER is the motto of Quebec
I remember the English colonized me.
I forget I colonized First Nations.
I remember multiculturalism is bad.
I forget it allowed me to keep my culture.
I remember the Church is my downfall
I forget it was Louis XIV and Napoleon politics
I remember my language matters
I forget I imposed language on First Nations.
I remember my culture
I want others to forget their culture
Quebec’s new motto should be
I FORGET -- J’OUBLIE
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 9:45 AM UTC
Oh my love
The miles are torturous
My spirit, frayed from reaching for you
How my heart longs to beat beside you once again
Oh my love
The sound of your sadness kills me
Like tiny acid tears dripping in my soul
Burning an eternity, yet making me love you more
Oh my love
If I could reach you by any means,
I would never leave your side
For in your arms is where I am who I am meant to be
Oh my love
You are my Spring in the dead of Winter
The very air that I breathe
Distance is a slow asphyxiation
Oh my love
It won't be long now
When we can live the life we've lived before
Together in all things
Sharing a lifetime in each moment together
Oh my love
Words cannot do justice to the exquisite pain of longing
Of knowing what we get to experience...together
Distance is temporary and we are eternal
Oh my love
I miss you so
I am lifeless in your absence, as you hold my heart
I have never truly been me, until there was you
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 2:24 AM UTC
(Earl Jane Nagley)
i.
My sweetest king,
I am here waiting for you,
I clasp on to our love.
ii.
All my life I’ve been searching for you,
Now I have you in my arms,
I’ll never let you go.
iii.
Don’t be weary my love,
Let my love kiss your fears away,
My warmth as assurance I’ll stay.
iv.
My eyes wander in the skies,
As my heart shouts your name,
I’ll wait, I knew we’ll meet.
v.
Oh my darling,
No matter how long it will take,
I’ll take all risk, just to be with you.
vi.
So soon my soulmate,
Our patience in love will be rewarded,
We’ll be together, forever.
vii.
When we’ll meet,
I’ll enclose you tight,
Nothing will ever take us apart.
(Brandon Nagley)
viii.
Mine saccharine select
I'm here mine pet;
I grasp thy breath.
ix.
All mine day's
I've groaned in pains;
Now thou art mine, a meteoric grace.
x.
Now thou art here
Mine eye's hath dried, I'm over mine tear's;
For comfort hast given me a home in thee.
xi.
O' love, lover, queen
O' verily we shalt, we shalt meet;
Whilst conquering the demonic beast's, with armour divinity.
xii.
If it takes a thousand light year's
Please knoweth mine soul, mine spirit is near;
As tis eternity I wilt be with thou.
xiii.
On the many moon's, in a kingdom high room,
Where there's no need for a tomb, nor the news, no deathly hellion there, Mocker's nor baboon's; just ourn swoon.
xiv.
We shalt meeteth
O' we shalt meeteth;
And when we do, may the heaven's open and the ark showeth it's gold, mine queen Jane, mine soul.
©Brandon Nagley \Earl Jane Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry \Hari-Reyna incorporated
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 8:09 AM UTC
I
That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers,
And the blue eye
Dear and dewy,
And that infantine fresh air of hers!
II
To think men cannot take you, Sweet,
And enfold you,
Ay, and hold you,
And so keep you what they make you, Sweet!
III
You like us for a glance, you know—
For a word’s sake,
Or a sword’s sake,
All’s the same, whate’er the chance, you know.
IV
And in turn we make you ours, we say—
You and youth too,
Eyes and mouth too,
All the face composed of flowers, we say.
V
All’s our own, to make the most of, Sweet—
Sing and say for,
Watch and pray for,
Keep a secret or go boast of, Sweet.
VI
But for loving, why, you would not, Sweet,
Though we prayed you,
Paid you, brayed you
In a mortar—for you could not, Sweet.
VII
So, we leave the sweet face fondly there—
Be its beauty
Its sole duty!
Let all hope of grace beyond, lie there!
VIII
And while the face lies quiet there,
Who shall wonder
That I ponder
A conclusion? I will try it there.
IX
As,—why must one, for the love forgone,
Scout mere liking?
Thunder-striking
Earth,—the heaven, we looked above for, gone!
X
Why with beauty, needs there money be—
Love with liking?
Crush the fly-king
In his gauze, because no honey bee?
XI
May not liking be so simple-sweet,
If love grew there
’Twould undo there
All that breaks the cheek to dimples sweet?
XII
Is the creature too imperfect, say?
Would you mend it
And so end it?
Since not all addition perfects aye!
XIII
Or is it of its kind, perhaps,
Just perfection—
Whence, rejection
Of a grace not to its mind, perhaps?
XIV
Shall we burn up, tread that face at once
Into tinder
And so hinder
Sparks from kindling all the place at once?
XV
Or else kiss away one’s soul on her?
Your love-fancies!—
A sick man sees
Truer, when his hot eyes roll on her!
XVI
Thus the craftsman thinks to grace the rose,—
Plucks a mould-flower
For his gold flower,
Uses fine things that efface the rose.
XVII
Rosy rubies make its cup more rose,
Precious metals
Ape the petals,—
Last, some old king locks it up, morose!
XVIII
Then, how grace a rose? I know a way!
Leave it rather.
Must you gather?
Smell, kiss, wear it—at last, throw away!
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XIV
If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love’s sake only. Do not say
‘I love her for her smile—her look—her way
Of speaking gently,—for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day’—
For these things in themselves, Beloved, may
Be changed, or change for thee,—and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity’s wiping my cheeks dry,—
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love’s sake, that evermore
Thou mayst love on, through love’s eternity.
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Mine,
I am not inspired. This page was blank for so long, my fingers poised over the keys to play scribe to the muse that is missing you, but nothing. There is no poetic language in me tonight. No flowery prose, no clever literary devices, not even any cliché. Today there is only ***** raunchy and blunt: I want to **** you so badly I ache.
Yours.
Jun 22, 2010
Jun 22, 2010 at 6:22 PM UTC
Mary, plain name. Mary, mother of God
Mary, Queen of the Strip Mall
Mary, daughter of a King and a *****
Divinity in her blood, conqueror of lands,
Monarch of her body, kingdom of junkies.
Nails inlaid with pearls, mink lashes and onyx eyes
Indigo polyester wraps her 36, 30, 41,
saltwater taffy legs, **** and ***
Mary wasn’t a tall boy, Mary is a funnel cloud queen
Obsidian brazilian in velcro, soda can curls.
Mary has no titles, Mary is a ******* Mary is an exile.
Queen of cream stucco and neon and parking lots.
Mary has disciples, all named Judas.
She has Roy Cohn, the judge’s son, and Louis XIV on their knees in prayer.
She has **** Cheney, Little Richard, and Freud their knees in the bathroom behind the Tesco.
Mary doesn’t confess, doesn’t beg, doesn’t buy.
Mary the conqueror, Alexander reincarnate, she survives.
Body bathed in ultraviolet, cocoa butter, vaseline, and newport menthols.
Mary talks to God in the mirrors at the salvation army.
Mary is scared of dying, she knows she is no ones martyr.
Mary never kneels, left the Bible in the motel nightstand.
A graceful end, a unceremonious departure.
Trade rose petals for needles and styrofoam slurpee cups.
Mary’s mistresses, lovers, and wives, gave her a few lead rounds,
Left her in the strip mall mausoleum.
Mary, queen of the carnal, saint of suburban perversions.
Mary never asked God for forgiveness or a fix.
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 3:47 PM UTC
i
I kind of knew
in the back
of my mind
that there was more
to come
ii
An urgent message
rings through the streets
"The Romans are at the gates!"
As soon as the news
reaches the house
giant catapults
start to pound the roofs
with rocks.
iii
Hoovering out
the cat hairs
scrubbing out
the loo
iv
The woman put her sad moon-face in
at the window of the car.
"You be good," she said.
"Yes, Momma," they said.
She slung her purse over her shoulder
and walked away.
v
Being James Bond
in miniature
is way cooler
than being a wizard.
vi
The park grew wild
and where we played football
the grass was torn
by the bombs
vii
At the time
everyone thought
that Elizabeth planned
to capture Mary.
viii
I'm so excited
I could burst
It's this cracking idea I've had
It's been worrying me away for weeks
It all started,
you see,
When I was showing some of my students
Where Greenland was on a map.
iix
Unbelievably,
the brown square
is identical
to the yellow square
ix
All us friends and relatives
are told to sit at the back
mind coats and bags
knowing our way
in the dark
x
Mum glared at Dad.
How many times
do I have to tell you
that the twins are called
James and Rebecca;
not Cheese and Tomato?
Granny shook
her head.
xi
The hard work
hopefully won't end
and we will stick together
no matter what
xii
Experimental
native style
knows
no boundaries
xiii
The fire detectors
are fitted
at regular intervals
along the tunnel
xiv
As an adult
Tarzan is once again
faced with the question of belonging
when he first meets humans
and discovers creatures
who look like himself.
xv
My heart misses a beat.
The girls have seen me
in my bikini.
They all gather around
looking and laughing at the sight.
How embarrassing!
It is a long way down.
Jan 11, 2012
Jan 11, 2012 at 11:34 AM UTC
i.
i am not angry,
and i won't be.
how someone could stay mad at you
is a ******* mystery to me.
ii.
maybe
you were right,
and not everyone
is an enigma.
but i believe that you are.
i believe that we are.
iii.
i still have all your letters.
iv.
speaking of letters,
i've tried writing you one before.
but words and humans
do not often cooperate.
v.
i hope you start a new york jar again.
you won't.
but i hope you do.
vi.
i will not forget you.
i will think of you,
and i hope you think of me, too,
on those days when the sky is a shade too dark
and your soul feels a little bit too empty.
vii.
i know now
that i do not
have to do anything.
viii.
i love you.
past.
present.
future tense.
i love you.
and i know you love me.
ix.
i hope you see this.
someday.
x.
shakespeare once said
that life's but a walking shadow.
but i believe --
i know --
that you are destined for something greater.
you
are going to make it.
xi.
if, by some miracle,
i can find a word,
a song,
a quote,
anything,
to describe you,
to do you justice,
i will let you know.
i hope you'll do the same for me.
xii.
i'm sorry.
for everything.
i wish it didn't end up this way,
but it did,
and so i won't waste time complaining.
but truly,
i am sorry.
xiii.
someday
you'll find happiness.
xiv.
and maybe,
if the stars align,
and the water's calm,
someday you'll find me, too.
(a.m.)
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 6:55 PM UTC
I.
My first in first grade
I carved your name in my desk
I hope it's still there.
II.
Made class valentines
Required for everyone
But mine was special.
III.
You begged the teacher
To sit by me on the bus
With a great big smile.
IV.
The first who wanted
To take me out for dinner
But it was a joke.
V.
Dedicated song
I can no longer hear it
Without thought of you.
VI.
You never said it
But your eyes always told me
You had wanted more.
VII.
You dated my friend
And I never told you how
Much I adored you.
VIII.
Playful like a child
But mature like an adult
So interesting.
IX.
You asked me to prom
Yellow flowers for friendship
That's all I wanted.
X.
You said you loved me
I loved you like a brother
It would never work.
XI.
You swore up and down
You had changed for the better
You didn't, first kiss.
XII.
Late walks on campus
Never saw me with makeup
We were so natural.
XIII.
Eyes found each other
"I don't forget pretty girls"
you whispered to me.
XIV.
I fell quickly, hard
But you still loved someone else
A girl with my name.
XV.
A friend of a friend
Texting non-stop everyday
Going nowhere fast.
XVI.
Liked me from the start
Bruised and broken, I do care
But not in that way.
XVII.
The piano man
It was all right but timing
One that got away.
XVIII.
We tried to fight time
Thinking that you were ready
Left us with heartache.
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 4:14 PM UTC
I.
So far as our story approaches the end,
Which do you pity the most of us three?—
My friend, or the mistress of my friend
With her wanton eyes, or me?
II.
My friend was already too good to lose,
And seemed in the way of improvement yet,
When she crossed his path with her hunting-noose
And over him drew her net.
III.
When I saw him tangled in her toils,
A shame, said I, if she adds just him
To her nine-and-ninety other spoils,
The hundredth for a whim!
IV.
And before my friend be wholly hers,
How easy to prove to him, I said,
An eagle’s the game her pride prefers,
Though she snaps at a wren instead!
V.
So, I gave her eyes my own eyes to take,
My hand sought hers as in earnest need,
And round she turned for my noble sake,
And gave me herself indeed.
VI.
The eagle am I, with my fame in the world,
The wren is he, with his maiden face.
—You look away and your lip is curled?
Patience, a moment’s space!
VII.
For see, my friend goes shaling and white;
He eyes me as the basilisk:
I have turned, it appears, his day to night,
Eclipsing his sun’s disk.
VIII.
And I did it, he thinks, as a very thief:
“Though I love her—that, he comprehends—
“One should master one’s passions, (love, in chief)
“And be loyal to one’s friends!”
IX.
And she,—she lies in my hand as tame
As a pear late basking over a wall;
Just a touch to try and off it came;
’Tis mine,—can I let it fall?
X.
With no mind to eat it, that’s the worst!
Were it thrown in the road, would the case assist?
’Twas quenching a dozen blue-flies’ thirst
When I gave its stalk a twist.
XI.
And I,—what I seem to my friend, you see:
What I soon shall seem to his love, you guess:
What I seem to myself, do you ask of me?
No hero, I confess.
XII.
’Tis an awkward thing to play with souls,
And matter enough to save one’s own:
Yet think of my friend, and the burning coals
He played with for bits of stone!
XIII.
One likes to show the truth for the truth;
That the woman was light is very true:
But suppose she says,—Never mind that youth!
What wrong have I done to you?
XIV.
Well, any how, here the story stays,
So far at least as I understand;
And, Robert Browning, you writer of plays,
Here’s a subject made to your hand!
2.1k
ᗩIᑎᕼᗩᖇᗩ ᑕOᑎT.
~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
When Lyn looks up, she can see
several banners; the proud white
Lily of Aurelinaea on a gold field
and a white mask and brown
lute on a crimson field, decorate
the buildings. They drape over
windows, off the high bridges,
roofs and posts.
~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
"Ah yes, today is the Song of the
Canals!" Ainhara turns to them.
"So, My Lady, where do you want
to go first? A walk around the
harbour? A ride on the canals?
A trip to the museums?"
~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
"Hmmm..." Lyn's eyes fall
upon a small bookshop.
"I'd like to browse the book-
shop first."
"Do you not have enough
books, My Lady?"
~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
"Ah-ah!" Lyn tsked. "One can
never have enough books!"
Esshi giggles again as Ainhara
rolls her eyes as her mistress
raises a hand, her finger pointing
at the sky. "To the bookstore!"
~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
Lyn skips over like a little girl.
"Honestly," Ainhara chuckles.
"At least she's smiling, Ainhara."
"True," Ainhara could not disagree
with her friend. To see the young
queen so carefree, dressed so plainly,
and above all happy and relaxed,
is a relief to them both. Smiling
under their veils, she and Esshi to
follow behind their young queen.
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 4:32 PM UTC
Batter my heart, three-person'd God, for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town to'another due,
Labor to'admit you, but oh, to no end;
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captiv'd, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly'I love you, and would be lov'd fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy;
Divorce me,'untie or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you'enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
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XIV. TO THE MOTHER OF THE GODS (6 lines)
(ll. 1-5) I prithee, clear-voiced Muse, daughter of mighty Zeus,
sing of the mother of all gods and men. She is well-pleased with
the sound of rattles and of timbrels, with the voice of flutes
and the outcry of wolves and bright-eyed lions, with echoing
hills and wooded coombes.
(l. 6) And so hail to you in my song and to all goddesses as
well!
1.7k
I want to have
lunch
of all meats and veggies –
can someone cook
and put them all
on the table for me?
I want to eat fine
at a table of ebony
with silverware
in King Louis XIV style –
can somebody procure them for me?
I want to dine
in a Hall of Fame
Queen Cleo style
with singers and slaves
and manacled leopards
at my feet –
Hey, who’s there!
get them all ready for me
I want them all in a
Grand Palace like Versailles
not in some petty lowbrow
Château de Malmaison -
so can someone get it ready
by today eve, precisely 5?
I want to eat in peace
with no noise
and braying donkeys
so - Hey! can someone
shoot that rabble outside
unkempt, untidy
and always wanting free meals off me!
Aug 26, 2011
Aug 26, 2011 at 3:07 AM UTC
I. When watching TV with my grandmother, we stumble upon a film about two beautiful girls who fall in love. When they kiss, she turns away from the screen. Every time.
II. I'm getting reading for school in the morning, and turn on an episode of my favorite show. When two of the boys kiss, I glance away out of habit, and my mother whispers, "It's just so strange."
III. I'm making lunch in the kitchen when my grandmother remarks, "I don't think anyone can know they're gay until they try being straight." Suddenly, I'm not hungry anymore.
IV. One of the boys I grew up with keeps telling me that I'll find the right man, no matter how many times I correct him.
V. When my friend finds out, she says it's okay. But she refuses to hug me.
VI. I'm out to dinner with my cousins when one of them says, "I have a friend who's a lesbian. It's so hot." I excuse myself from the table and spend the rest of the evening sitting in a parking lot.
VII. The boys at school say *** every other word.
VIII. The girl in the locker room refuses to change next to me.
IX. My grandmother finds a love poem in my room. I tell her it's a part of a school project.
X. In class we talk about gender roles, and a boy gets up and says, "You have to teach your kid to be manly or he'll end up being gay."
XI. Someone says the word **** and I feel like crying.
XII. The youth pastor at my church tells me that I can be cured.
XIII. Everyone tells me I'm wrong.
XIV. I tell myself I am wrong. Every single day, it repeats in my head like a sacred chant. I tell myself I don't deserve to live. Until the day that I don't.
--------------------
I. I watch every movie I can find without looking away.
II. I smile every time they kiss.
III. I develop a stronger stomach.
IV. I correct him more forcefully.
V. Her sister hugs me twice as hard.
VI. I slap my cousin across the face.
VII. I decide to see it as a term of endearment.
VIII. I stop taking gym.
IX. My grandmother finds a love poem in the room. I tell her to calm down.
X. The girl beside me tells him to shut his mouth.
XI. Someone says the word **** and I feel like laughing.
XII. I pray for her.
XIII. Everyone tells me I'm wrong.
XIV. I tell myself I am wrong.
XVI. Until the day that I don't.
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 3:29 PM UTC
.
(Earl Jane Nagley)
*i.
My sweetest king,
I am here waiting for you,
I clasp on to our love.
ii.
All my life I’ve been searching for you,
Now I have you in my arms,
I’ll never let you go.
iii.
Don’t be weary my love,
Let my love kiss your fears away,
My warmth as assurance I’ll stay.
iv.
My eyes wander in the skies,
As my heart shouts your name,
I’ll wait, I knew we’ll meet.
v.
Oh my darling,
No matter how long it will take,
I’ll take all risk, just to be with you.
vi.
So soon my soulmate,
Our patience in love will be rewarded,
We’ll be together, forever.
vii.
When we’ll meet,
I’ll enclose you tight,
Nothing will ever take us apart.*
(Brandon Nagley)
**viii.
Mine saccharine select
I'm here mine pet;
I grasp thy breath.
ix.
All mine day's
I've groaned in pains;
Now thou art mine, a meteoric grace.
x.
Now thou art here
Mine eye's hath dried, I'm over mine tear's;
For comfort hast given me a home in thee.
xi.
O' love, lover, queen
O' verily we shalt, we shalt meet;
Whilst conquering the demonic beast's, with armour divinity.
xii.
If it takes a thousand light year's
Please knoweth mine soul, mine spirit is near;
As tis eternity I wilt be with thou.
xiii.
On the many moon's, in a kingdom high room,
Where there's no need for a tomb, nor the news, no deathly hellion there, Mocker's nor baboon's; just ourn swoon.
xiv.
We shalt meeteth
O' we shalt meeteth;
And when we do, may the heaven's open and the ark showeth it's gold, mine queen Jane, mine soul.**
© Earl Jane - Brandon Collaborations
♥ Lovers Incorporated
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 8:27 AM UTC
Batter my heart, three-personed God; for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurped town, to another due,
Labor to admit you, but O, to no end;
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
but is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betrothed unto your enemy.
Divorce me, untie or break that knot again;
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor even chaste, except you ravish me.
1.4k
Trump sure knows how to
share the sacrifices,
spread that butter a little thin
on his own toast,
as say ...
when he weekends
at Mar-a-Lago,
that opulent palace-like estate
with its Flemish tapestries,
lavish oriental rugs,
& a Louis XIV-style ballroom,
with $7 million in gold leaf
on the walls,
one-more-time ...
$7 million in gold-leaf
on the walls,
& it is here that he relaxes
every weekend
this Sun-King of ours,
this Oriental Potentate,
this Pasha in crushed velvet,
the cost of these jolly
jaunts is $4 million
each weekend,
oh … & there’s $4
million a month for
Melania & Barron too,
poor young Barron,
who one does
feel for
in a way.
So … at the risk
of sounding like
an early 20th century
Bolshevik & drawing
attention to inequalities
& injustices & wealth
& rank luxury at the
very time when hungry
& lonesome old folks
are to be deprived
of basic nourishment,
I'll say:
"The revolution is not
an apple that falls
when it is ripe.
You have to make
it fall."
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 7:20 PM UTC
i. take a lesson from the way watercolor paint bleeds through notebook paper
ii. if i lose my mind and we lose our clothes i promise to never lose our hands and i hope you never hate me when the sun is up
iii. you made your bed now lay in mine
iv. my death wish is you telling me that you're sorry over and over again
v. all of these streetlights won't stop staring at me
vi. your eyelids, someone wants to kiss those and no it's not me okay it is
vii. what do you mean you don't keep all of my exhales in a glass jar
viii. i loved a thing once and then i died
ix. **** the world and then don't text it back the morning after
x. **** your love is my benzodiazepine
xi. are we making love or sulfuric acid
xii. how it is vs. how i want it to be vs. how it should actually be
xiii. oh, you didn't hear? your raspy screams and hollowed eyes aren't enough anymore
xiv. and now every car crash sounds like the last time you ever said my name
xv. pretty sure i have john f. kennedy's brain
xvi. you whispered "i love you" and it sounds more like an apology than anything
xvii. i have no poetry left inside of me, just a lot of white paint
xviii. accidentally bashed my head into a wall on purpose today and yes, i still have a mind and yes, you're still on it
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 7:30 PM UTC