"yeshua" poems
i.
Iniibig kita
Mahal Kita;
Minamahal Kita,
Iniirog kita.
ii.
Here do I cometh, I'm on mine way. The skies art clear tonight, just a tint of fine gray; though I spread mine plumage, fracture the tone, I knoweth one day, O' verily one day- I'll findeth mine way home.
And I thinkest, when I findeth the bungalow, I wilt rest, after long
Passage alone. As thou I wilt bestow, mine Lip's on thy own; quietly humming, Sayaw tayo?
iii.
A Tagal na ah, a Tagal na ah, now I'm here mine love, I've made it mine queen; some sayest dream's don't cometh true, Only if the other's couldst find; they discern science, just not the sign's of the times.
Though we behold, the spirit and soul, and ourn creator, the crowned head of the world's; Hallowed be his name, Yahweh, father Jehovah, known also Elohim. His son Yeshua ha'mashiach, English language "Jesus the anointed one". The son above all son's. Jane, mine queen.
iv.
Iniibig kita
Mahal Kita;
Minamahal Kita,
Iniirog kita.
Tagal na ah
Tagal na ah;
Now in thy
Grip, with
Mine kiss,
On thy Lip's
I place mine
Vow's. O'
Yadid, yadid,
Never let me go
Agapi mou-
Zoi mou,
Se latrevo
Mine queen.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou) dedication
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 12:07 AM UTC
Father could reprogram all six billion of us
if He felt the need, anytime
In fact that's exactly what He did
at Babel when our dodgy one-accord
threatened to bring the end nearer
than the six millenniums of earthtime
He'd allocated for us to seek His truth
He even re-wired Balak for a minute
to hear his donkey speak
and think of the Assyrians that fled
when He caused four lepers to sound
like a mighty mercenary army
coming to rescue Jerusalem
YHWH is omnipotent, like it not
The reason He's not 'interfering' right now
is simply because His plan is dead on time
He intends to blow the chaff from His wheat
The true wheat, His remnant that stays faithful
(through Revelations and the mark)
will form a new constitution when Yeshua returns
for a thousand years of peace on earth
You may think "Oh I'll wait and see
if it's true, like, if the two witnesses
really die and then rise again in three days"
Problem with that approach is simple
You could be brainwashed before then
The neurophone is widely used today
Think of 911, why Bush isn't impeached
and read surveillanceissues.com
Those of us who really care
will continue to bug you and **** your spirit
Hopefully you'll make the right choice
and refuse the mark of the beast
Consider these things while there's time
'After me the storm' won't cut it
There are less than three short years to go
* Gen 6:3 And Jehovah said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, in his erring; he is flesh. Yet his days shall be a hundred and twenty years.
The 120 years referred to here in fact represent 120 jubilees, or 6000 years (2000 from Adam to the flood, 2000 from the flood to Yeshua and 2000 from Yeshua till 2017)
Jun 3, 2010
Jun 3, 2010 at 2:37 AM UTC
i.
Fret not, mine antediluvian maiden,
For thine lid's art ladened with the
the encumbering of this last age.
ii.
Awakest, ariseth, mine filipina
of aureole fushae; for the
óres art numbered.
iii.
Yahweh's knocking at the
ventricles of ourn being's;
We knoweth the wisdom
That God giveth, which
Many hath searched-
From king's to Queen's.
iv.
For we art his offspring-
mine overwrought baby,
For there art none if's
nor maybe's; in his
Righteous path.
v.
Verily, yea, the Moon
Wilt turn ichor, the
Waves as of now art
Rising fast, the fish
Art washing to the
Shore's, the fowl of
the heaven's art
Falling to the earth.
As spoken in Hosea
Four-verse three.
vi.
Believeth in Yeshua
mine lady, as the thousands
Having visions and dream's;
Like me, im a testament to
The prophecy coming.
vii.
Don't be afraid of the mockery that
Mayest come, for thine
Blood like river's run
Into the kingdom of
the most high.
viii.
Soon O' soon we
Shalt fly, like sparrow's to their abode; fly-free-spirited
Gliding soul's, into the Dominion wherein we shalt know
All, wherein the bomb's wilt not fall, and destruction doesn't
Exist. A place of sworn bliss, where kisses art created
By soulmates of the creator's making.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou) dedication
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 10:08 PM UTC
Verily this day April fourth, two-thousand and seventeen; there's a boy and girl using razors as allayments, making veins as paintings.
Verily, this day April fourth, two-thousand and seventeen; there's a mother holding her young one in ashes, guts with limb's sketch the war-torn scenes.
Verily, this day April fourth two-thousand and seventeen; a father toils on concrete and soil, breaking sweats for a dollar-
Fifty.
Verily, this day April fourth two-thousand and seventeen; a fiend shoots fire in their blood with syringes, whilst kin makest family arrangements for other's to
Come visit daughter's and sons
In boxes whilst they sleep.
Verily, this day April fourth two-thousand and seventeen; a poet and poetess write, O' how their word's do excite, whilst they
Dieth daily from secret pains unseen.
Verily, this day April fourth two-thousand and seventeen; a young woman's locked in
a semi trailer, smuggled by men from foreign labors, O' how her life shalt be
In a room with many strangers; she
Seeks to die yet wants to live.
Verily, this day April fourth two-thousand and seventeen; there's a broken child in
Many ghettos, whilst elite buy wives stilettos, dope dealing is the only survival, just to put some food in malnutritioned
Mouths.
Verily, this day April fourth two-thousand and seventeen; theirs a soldier in many lands, making wealthy men richer, whilst their bullets fly, they come home with the images they've seen, devastating guilt-messed up heads.
Verily, this day April fourth two-thousand and seventeen; there's God Almighty who's been with each of these people, in their souls he dost seest through, passed their skin, and flesh and bones. He knoweth
Their pains, hurts, he seest their loves,
Loves lost, though none of these people
Once hath stepped into a church. Though
God is not about religion, just for all to
Know his son; who took all of their pains
Two-thousand years ago up on the cross he gave his love. As each of these many spirits from all walks and ways of life, were all just the same, perfectly made and beautiful in God Yahweh's eyes. So his arms wilt always be open to those who hath that feeling of not wanting to live, for he sent his son yeshua hamashiach, (Jesus the Messiah) for God's own son for mankind's salvation didst he give. For poet as thou doth read mine words please do know this one thing, thou art not alone, for dear God Dost love thee, his arms art open for thee to come home to him.
© Brandon nagley
© Lonesome poets poetry
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 4:18 PM UTC
How did it start you might ask?
The story began when I was 16.
She knew just how to manipulate
me & so did Tim.
This was also the age I lost my
virginity to him.
Lured toward the lust I felt inside.
Which was why I had so much PRIDE.
She dated me & some other guy.
All along I was just her backup plan.
Keep in mind, I was a 10th grader in High School.
Going out to parties, smoking a bunch of cigarettes & ****
Nothing mattered. Which left me feeling more alone than I ever did.
Didn't get the privilege to walk down the aisle with the rest of my classmates.
Expelled.
How can God forgive a misfit such as me?
How undeserving I was. Rebellion.
Plenty of drugs & clubs - my personal
favorite was Pulse Night Club.
Who was I when I wasn't with women?
This was my life for 10 years.
Later on, I watched a spoken word video
called Jesus > Religion.
For a moment it clicked, or so I thought.
Evidently realizing I was a religious fraud.
Once upon a time, I was among the dead.
Now I am fully alive in Yeshua.
I may never forget, even if He already has.
As far as the East is from the West.
Relentlessly pursuing me in my brokenness.
He has made me whole & new again.
I urge you to pick-up your cross.
The battle has already been won.
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 3:14 AM UTC
Don’t put me in a box, I am my own teacher
I don’t worship TV idols, I have other preachers
I don't toss a poem to come across as known
friends crossed me, don’t know my own home
I don't speak for an arrogant cause
Or do self-righteous acts just to merit applause
I don’t make scenes to be seen as a person of God
What you see as a skill, I see as a character flaw
I don't use a hype man sell grams to buy fans
I don't scream to get attention other ways for lungs to expand
I don't ********** my talent for people that bystand
Or try to trick innocent people more desperate than I am
Sell a line, sell a book
Sell a dream, sell a scheme
Sell a brother false hope you control his self-esteem
Let a brother talk **** I won’t get mad at all
I’ll just throw a couple stabs like my cousin at the mall
So please tell me what’s worse
being broke or broken?
but before you answer that let me ask you this first
In the place you live, can you quench your thirst?
Do you have enough time to finish a verse?
Remember our time here was borrowed, can’t reimburse
Parasitic
a chemic I been it
I pen it, I penetrate my a pen all day
To descend and mate
My inner state is in the state
to keep on straight,
administrate and illustrate
What people haul with haste till it's in his face
So in the case where i’m in my space
my focus is to chase
Yeshua’s face is faced with the waste of people sending hate
Intimidating to people claiming contention
ostensibly incoherent was air for my ascension
It's plucking a hair ain't it?
who painted the P.I.C cell
in pixels, the pig sells
the witch who picks spells, got hell
Tie a boar to a tree transmitting this
free him a year later he'll stay in the same radius
Maybe it's in the tears
Maybe it's just kinetics
Maybe I do love attention
and writing is how I get it
encapsulated beneath the surface the desire is unknown
You think this a joke
Get shot in your funny bone!
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 2:41 AM UTC
The earth shalt
Be in chaos,
Global
Turmoil
Soon;
For whom wilt
Thou chooseth;
Christ, or an Antichrist
That maketh all small,
Rich, poor, meek,
Taketh the bite of Satan
The mark of the beast.
Wherein is thine hope?
Man, or men? Traditional
Deities, cloaked under demon's
Of stench.
Christ Yeshua spoke
Come unto me all ye that labour
And art heavy laden; for he is meek
And lowly in heart, and all whom seek
Him shalt find rest in their soul's.
For peace only cometh from Christ's
Salvation alone.
If haven't accepted his salvation today
Soon the word's ( come up hither ) will
Be for the world to see on Judgement's
Display. We don't hath tommorrow,
And neither today, I pray O' do I pray
That thou shalt find the Messiah-
Yeshua ha'mashiach, the only eternal way.
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 7:09 PM UTC
i.
Lief O' Lief, or the gloaming,
Inly beholding; the imperium
Betwixt ourn palm's.
ii.
Beckowing song's, thro the chamber's
And corridor's; Crystal chandeliers,
Whites in the luster that Pierce.
iii.
An abatjour, bringing elan up through the floor's,
A woo for mine girl;
Mi amour', mi amour'.
iv.
We shalt accend, adamantine. Adaxial, tacent in talk;
Taction bloprined. Jerusalem's city, renewed, refined.
Inviolable Yeshua; afar off, Jesus abideth here,
readeth the sign.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Prophetic poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( àgapi mou) dedication
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 9:37 PM UTC
i.
Malkhati, ourn arrangement hath been prearranged, set aside all of past anger's, Sting's from compeer's; knoweth ourn lion from the tribe of Judah, the Messiah draweth near.
ii.
Hush mine love, quiet mine dear, notice the weather's change and the birthing pain's of fear; though we shant faint, we shalt run through Meadow's clear. Wherein nothing shalt compare, to the thing's that we shalt see.
iii.
O' just imagine mine Jane, fountain of life that spring's, from God's throne seraph's gleam, as we'll Stare at Christ's bronze feet. Many table's for a holy feast, None beast's to make their way, for the beast's wilt be left behind us, making their trail's in Satan's day.
iv.
For we mine love, O' we; art messenger's, disciples, for Jesus the lowly Nazarene, now he's on high, his time is nigh, where all shalt shalt see his white robe, in blood dipped, paradise gripped, unearthly flow.
v.
We must be ready mine Asian hunny, for the sky's won't be sunny; that much longer now. The time is here, his call for us, we must speak and YELL OF JESUS, the one whom shalt awake the dead from the dust. Prophecy must be fulfilled mine girl, don't be in angst, of this soon passing world. He is the pearl, that once was rejected, the cornerstone to every broken home, the one in the beginning the builder's once disrespected. But every eye shalt see, every tribe shalt mourn, O' his sweet return, His sweet return. We must prophesy, before this earth doth burn, we bring TRUTH NOT FEAR, mayest love come by storm. Anyone who hath an ear, please heed ourn word's. For the Warning's art on the clouds, driven by storm's. YESHUA HAMASHIACH, He's coming soon, wilt thou listen O' man? Or let Lucifer deceive thou to? Mine Jane, Mine Jane, I seeith him coming;
Holy, holy is his name.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry , prophetic poetry.
©Earl jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou)
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
(Dedicated to my mother, Juna Marie Nagley- happy mother's day momma!!!)
O' Màthair, Màthair, from whence I birthed.
Best friend, mine Angel, mine guide; Disguised
As a lady at birth; it's from thine womb from
Whence I arrived, this is a thanking thee, to
A flawless seraph, mine Màthair, mine Màthair-
To thee; whom do I compareth?
Anglamotharia, thou hath always met mine need's,
When mine knee was scraped, and when I got sick;
Thou wouldst alway's protecteth me. Eyne blue as
The sea's, hair blonde as the street's thou hath
stemmed from, Anglamotharia-Jehovah's chosen
One, mine host of host's, guardian from the ghost's
Who always tried to hurt thy own son.
Anglamotharia, from whence I am from-
Latha màthair math; angelic one.
(Second part is a mothers day dedication to my mother in law Evangeline sardua- Earl Jane sardua my Queens mother....)
Adlaw Malipayon inahan, dearest mother-in-law, the Apple to Jane's vision, hardworking, gentle-calm. I thankest thee for showing Jane the right way's; the way's of God, the way's of love, O' heaven knoweth thy name.
Adlaw Malipayon inahan, woman who knoweth none time, for thine family is thy priority; thou cookest and cleanest, thy labor hath heavied over time, mayest the Lord bless thee and keep thee, and the Lord make His face shine upon thee. And be gracious to thee. The Lord lift up His countenance upon thee,
And give thee peace. Mayest thine abode be a blessing from Mount malindang-west unto East. Mayest Yeshua guideth thy feet to where dangerous travels cometh and goeth. Mayest the word of God always from thy mouth appear and floweth. Mayest this mother's day, be a remembrance to thee, Evangeline; thy love hath not been forgotten, this is mine gift and thanking to thee.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©mothers day dedication to two special mother's ( Evangeline Sardua, janes mother, and dedication to my mother juna Marie Nagley, ) happy mother's day to both of you and may God shine his face upon you!!! With love Brandon!!
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC
There's water above and water below
as it was in the beginning
while I recharge, prismatic eyes still
in their microcosmic universe
Silent, while songbirds give thanks
and playful energy teases, seeking
release
so I focus on amber surface reflections
from under, they fizz tiny bubbles
an effervescent Spirit-level
Yogis know it as bliss
risen crown kundalini
Their vessel sadly lacks
living water from Yeshua
our rising Messiah, eternal wellspring
I open my eyes
find other eyes
Deep calls unto deep
as sounds of waterfalls
A daily feast of at-onement
Sep 27, 2009
Sep 27, 2009 at 11:47 AM UTC
The fall has been undone
The world is overcome...
Almighty Holy One of Israel
Possessor of the heavens and earth
Your name be great among the nations
Magnified by your Son's perfect work
The fall has been undone
The world is overcome...
All powerful Father creator God
Blessed hope and salvation
Your kingdom come - Your will be done
Unapproachable light eternal
The fall has been undone
The world is overcome...
Alpha and Omega, Beginning and End,
Faithful Rock and Redeemer
Lord, you alone are just and wise
Who can stand against You?
The fall has been undone
The world is overcome...
The fall verily hath happened
Thus there art demon's in
The world; though Christ
Saidst we canst overcometh
By his light and faith assured.
For ourn truth wilt makest
Friend's turn to enemies, and
Enemies to friend's; though it's
Yeshua ha'mashiach, on which
We shalt depend.
So mine dearest friend edward-starr,
With pain's wrapping thy skull; remembereth
Thou art God's child, not just some being of
Mistakes and flaws. We art to be perfected
In Jesus alone, for Christ hath made thee
A mansion, that soon shalt be thy home.
Hath faith Edward, thou art under
The protection of the great "I am";
He sent to thee, Jesus the king, to
Die for thee and every man.
For God saidst,
I am always with thee, wheresoever I mayest be;
Remember whom thou doth worship Edward,
Christ, the son of God, Yeshua ha'mashiach,
Thy Lord and healing king.
©Brandon Nagley and VS duo poem for Eddie starr
©Lonesome poet's poetry
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 8:15 PM UTC
Somewhither, we wilt meet,
Whether afore mine
Ending; maybe in the
Hereafter's passage,
gramercy to god,
babes once again
Reborn in the
Perfection of
Love-
None struggling to
Survive, nor push
And shove; we'll
Be happy to gaze
At the exquisite
shimmer's. Ourn
Thought's wilt
Burst of unearthly
Features. With un-
Earthly teacher's we'll
Meet along the way,
Abraham, Issac and
Jacob; Paul, Daniel,
Ezekiel to. Enoch to
Sit the riverbanks of
Life, whilst the seraph's
Sway to ancient live tunes.
None mockery of yeshua
Christ, inside this holy
Place- many mock him now,
And the Prophet's yell loud,
Though many shut their ear's,
As their fear's they eat on
Dog's puked up plates.
I sayest lift up thy voices
Oracle's, prophesy to the
End's of the gates, the time
Is now, the day of salvation
Is today. Jane, ourn lord
Wilt call, with Gabriel's horn to
Be the precursor; of mankind's
Fate. A heavenly date it shalt be.
O' a heavenly date;
2016.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Prophetic poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedicated( agapi-mou)
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 10:10 PM UTC
Joseph's sons are still in Egypt
All is not fulfilled as yet
The elder child, Manasseh
calls himself a Christian these days
and still seems mightier than Ephraim
as foreseen by Israel
but has this small problem
keeping Father's commandments
having been suckled on
papal leaven
with that false gospel
girlfriend he likes to call
prosperity ...
I'd rather remain a gentile, thanks
Invite me to the wedding
I'll come visit every Sukkot
He really needs his younger brother
to come of age and stop fussing ...
to stop copy-catting Judah
and feed Yeshua's lost sheep
from that double redeemer's portion
Jacob blessed him with ...
that which speaks of BenDavid
and the keeping of true Torah
which is the tittles and jots
'Jesus' said would remain
a blessing till all is fulfilled
till His Torah shines forth from Zion
once again
Jealous Judah awaits him too
Prays each day the prodigal will come home
and tell him who Meshiach is
There really are no Gentiles or Greeks
except in diaspora
No, not even Jesus freaks
Just a faithful, obedient remnant
in Jacob's trouble
going to the promised land
Jul 14, 2010
Jul 14, 2010 at 8:38 PM UTC
i.
Betimes mine delicate, betimes,
Mine apricity wherein beauty's
Simplicity doth show it's shine;
ii.
None bourn's shalt mock
us, nor obstruct ourn journey's.
We shalt egress this wordly mess;
With Yeshua as ourn attorney.
iii.
This place shalt be halted,
The fireballs to renew with burning;
The floods to rage, mid flight we shalt take
Sight's, liberated-tear's gone
In freedom as bird's of learning.
iv.
Up into the air we go, don't frighten my girl
We've known this truth, we shalt be loosed;
Heaven's gates- a banquet of rapio plates,
Yahweh's name sealed in ourn soul's
Fate.
v.
Ourn bodies to be renewed
Gathering with spirit's, out of
Their tomb's; O' how wondrous
It wilt be mine muse, we shalt be
In tune, in harmonized music
Thither the Angel's flutes.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane Nagley ( agapi mou) dedicated
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 7:50 PM UTC
i.
Yeshua Ha'Mashiach, enlighten me and Jane's way,
For the juncture through the gunchern
Is wailing, therein the opening of the seal's
Art displaying their stage.
ii.
O' cornerstone, which the builder's hath refused, I beseech thee, and thy protection, sendeth me and jane thy perfect correction;
Fixing ourn sight's on thee.
iii.
O' heavenly dayspring, we seeith the harbinger's of the time's, in the great high blue, underneath the crumbling glue, of planet earth's loam confine.
iv.
O' door to everlasting life, showeth thine light betwixt me and Jane's life. Helpeth us to showeth other's what's right; in the midst of this global panic. Helpeth us to show thou art the one and only way, the path narrow, not broad, the road to Paradise wherein prophecies art coming reality, from the word's of thine father God.
v.
O' king of king's, and Lord of lord's, mayest thou maketh a way for me and mine lass, showeth Jane we hath a bigger purpose. Not just to love eachother, but to showeth Thine amour to one another, to Christian sister's and brother's, and those with no vision, and with none hope. Worketh through us, to be thine cloud's that float- to sprinkle promise; to those without.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry \prophetic poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 7:40 PM UTC
What dost thou hope in, O' lost man,
Materials, the temporal; castles of
Sand?
Wherein is thy hope, O' children of
Hopelessness, in good deals, fast
Meals; lust of the filthy rich.
What dost thou hope in, being free
From labored chains? Art thou
Burdened with bloodied stains,
From the pains thou hast given
And taken.
What is thy hope? Liberated ***
Bags of dope, needles, hard liquor
To make thee sicker with needle
Pokes.
Wherein is thy hope, somewhither
Beyond the stars, with razors to
Release the angers and pains,
Cutting wrists making pools
Of blood to feel alive
Once again.
Wherein is thy hope, for hope thou
Canst hath, from the free gift of
Christ's blood that was shed,
From the crown of thorns
Placed on his head. From
The holes by nails driven
Through his hands and
Feet, by his tears in the
Garden he didst weep.
By the eternal life he
Didst offer; even to
His murderers, to
His scoffers and
Mockers.
If thou art a lawyer, or a doctor,
Or peasant or slave, one man,
God's son, died for all men,
Yeshua hamashiach, (Jesus
The Messiah is his name).
So all may enter heaven,
Yet only by his name, if
Thou shalt confess him
As Lord, open thy hearts
Door to let him in thou
Shalt be saved. Romans
10:9-10, go read that
Hopeless reader, and
John 3:16, he gives life,
As tis he's the son
Of the creator.
Wherein O' writer is thy hope?
Is it the world that is hopeless?
Or Christ Jesus who arose.
Wherein O' reader is thy
Hope? I tell thee today
Jesus Christ offers
Thee eternal life.
Where thou shalt
Never thirst again; wherein
Thou shalt be with Christ in heaven
After this dreadful life.
© Brandon nagley
© Lonesome poet's poetry
©Hope series
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 7:24 PM UTC
Moonlit summer shore
Blackness deep waves sing
He walks
A pencil writes His thoughts
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 8:16 AM UTC
Daily mine jane, I seest thy steps,
As thy feet traipse the jungle grounds; shh, deep breath mine
Love, God walks beside thee,
Where loneliness is not found.
Durst the day, durst the ground;
Show the world what light is,
Where light does not abound.
Let none take thy crown,
Wherein it hast many jewels;
Thou art a saint, so dont be late
For the wedding plates set up,
Unused.
O' jane mine muse, the clock hast struck twelve, the trumpet shalt soon blow, I hear all the saints yell.
He's coming, he's coming,
O' verily tis true; look up
To the cloud's, yeshua's
Calling is soon.
In the moment, in the twinkling of an
Eye, the bride of christ (the church)
Oh dear jane wilt we fly.
Wilt we fly, O' Wilt we fly,
Be ready mine dear, smile
Jane, do smile; hush
None fears.
©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poets poetry
©earl jane nagley
©prophetic poetry
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 5:28 PM UTC
Eftsoons the lumming, there shalt be
Bygone descendant's strumming.
Strumming string's,
Cleping the Almighty's name;
Yeshua ha'mashiach-
Jesus the king.
In white robes we'll dance
Pure air we'll breathe;
None need for shirt's nor pants,
None pain's of mortal being's.
None sadness to be brought inside
This place of glory, in the third heaven's sky's,
A place where thine eyne art dry,
A place of space where liberty shines.
A place with faces that never die,
Where there is no time-
Or way's of men.
Lover's, soulmates , Queen's, king's, friend's,
Guiding truth, where no river end's.
No place of pretend, no place of the lost,
All's found here, with ourn Savior's cost.
His cost of blood, upon that cross,
Upon that cross, where he was nailed;
Blood and water ran from his heart,
Gruesome detail's. Yet that's the love
He payed for us, mansion's now mine queen
Art awaiting us. So please just trust yeshua's
Holes, there in his hand's , thou wilt feel his soul.
Exploding into the cosmos, destroying death's own blow,
Don't be so worried mine queen, with him thou art whole.
Thou art the daughter of him mine love,
Just look to God O' dear God above,
When the evil forces try to shake ourn mind's
Hold mine hand, as Christ hold's mine;
Away we'll go, where the light doth shine,
O' the light doth shine, from his radiant face.
©Brandon Nagley
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou)
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
Ariseth watchman, O' prophet's dust off the dirt from thy feet. Ourn messiah is close, Iisoús Christós,
He's at the narrow door
Knocking; hair white as
Snow, countenance as
A white sun.
Waken, liven up thy hope,
For ourn lord hast risen; all thing's made subject to him.
Art thou ashamed of the great "I AM",
O' Christian? Is thy lamp trimmed, full of oil? Or is thy lamp half full.
Art thou ready? Or playing
World as time ticks through.
From thy slumber, wash the crust out of thy eyne, judgements soon to
Befall this sphere, get thy mind
Settled, focus on what's right.
Watchman watch, O' prophet's write,
Yeshua's coming as a thief;
To rapture up his bride.
©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poets poetry
©prophetic poetry
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 9:42 AM UTC
Dear lord
she was
wholesome
before her culture was regulated,
now marketed. --
Her technological fancy
and consumer venture;
her webcam
with ripe buttock and *******
Evangelical woman hailing eretz yisrael,
equality your goal...
Ha-Shem has no equals in a global pantheon of one-worldism.
© S. Wesley Mcgranor
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 6:41 PM UTC
The days when the blood of a child still flowed in my veins
When you couldn't be certain if i had a brain
Running helter-skelter,you'd assume i didn't have shelter
I had my whole life ahead of me
What i was living was a bonus for me
I'd have fun now and get serious with God some time in the after
Afterall,for decades now it's been one ridiculous story of the rapture or the other
I couldn't risk being called "jon"
Afterall even the Good Book says to enjoy life in Ecclesiastes
The condition stated there served as black polish on my silver shoe-totally not needed
Life was a bed of roses for me as i jumped into different beds like one in a hurdle race
My skirts could be likened to the length of time the devil can stay in Light
But i was still a child,i'd do church in the future,i compensated myself
The future came a bit too soon,when i aggressively hugged a moving car one night
My fake amnesia disappeared as every word of Ecclesiastes 11:9 echoed loudly like the siren of the ambulance in my head
Grace came through for me,pulling mercy along,for my life was spared
When every other limb but my right hand was cut off,i knew exactly what to do with it
True,i can't stare back at the girl in the mirror today without donating tears,but from today,i put my right hand to work for Yeshua
BE INSPIRED!!!
Jn9:4!!!!!
#pumped
Yeshua's B.A.E
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC