Standing naked in her dreams
Chest ripped open
Ribs split apart
All the broken hearts inside
Scared and stiched
And grown black wings
Fluttered round lungs and spleen
Then one by one flew away
Until empty was the pain
That once danced inside
Then gentle fingertips
Sewed back bone and flesh
And left a beating seed beneath
With a hopeful rythm
And a heart shaped sound

there's a boat
     moored on
an
empty shore,
too
                old to
be
cared for
              like these
bones
             bought &
sold many
              times
before,
worked
into a fine grind,
a pestel
                & mortar
kind where
souls
          are traded
for
pennies
over time, halved
now
              like a lime,
stripped of
what made
them
                      shine.

Whiter than the sage grass seed of the fall field. Sitting in an Evergreen tree. Silent hunter proud and long lived. Keeper of the forest secrets, wise one that pursues the winter hare. Being seen only when it pleases you, you sit and wait in patients until the winds call for you to fly. On wings as silent as the frozen river, you glide down to find your prey. Then back into the misty sky as the specks of snow hide your escape. Always watching and seldom speaking, unless you have wisdom to impart. Oh Snowy Owl, sentinel keeping watch in the cold.

An hour before sunrise,
not long before  going home-

It's still, no breeze, this Sunday morn-
silent......... serene-
As I step into the woods

I know they're watching,
those denizens of the forest-
Raccoon, possum, birds, etc.

I purse my lips
emit a soft whistle-
No reply
Another....no reply

A few more steps......then..
the soft 'coo' of the Mourning Dove-
"How gentle it is", comforting... in it's greeting

A raccoon appears in front of me,
the 'sentry' for the others, who are still hiding
In the underbrush, and in the trees.

They are "The Angels",
"You are safe with us", his eyes tell me-*
It is then I know,  it's going to be..... a "good day."


r. riddle 06-26-2016

Look around you
What do you see
In everyone I meet
There is a whole lot of me

Look in to the sky
Any given eye
Sees it just like me
We are one under the sun

Our petty differences
What ever happened to
Live and let live

If you do unto others
As you would have them
Do unto you

We've got a long way
To go Towards achieving peace
A long way toward loving one another

I could sit here
And **** on it
Stop it from happening

So many people
Not thinking they are one
They are one under the sun

Give it time
There is no expiry date
There is no time
No such thing as of late

One under the sun
Just one only one
Under the sun

Tiger, your eyes of amber
lull me hypnotically under
slowly sink, you slink in tallest grass
night, a steamy jungle where you sleep
scratch and paw, you claw my neck
I run, always you bite and bite
growl, and prowl hunting me down, to defeat
tireless in your clever games of hide and seek.

i.

Inside the aumbry of thy rib's,
Mine verses there queen
Shalt alway's live. When
Thou doth close thine
Engineer orb's,
Knoweth this
Mine Jane;
Mine pearl.

ii.

Long agone, god choose thee,
To be mine darling from the sea;
The one who whisper's to me when I sleep,
In thy soul mine poetry speaks.

iii.

If tonight mine inhalation shalt cease
I'm not just flesh, but a spirit antique;
Mine word's hath come from the up above,
To show thee forgiveness, and Christ's own love

And don't forget queen where thou camest from
From the Almighty's hand's wherein life dost come,
Where the Angel's fly, and the mountain's hum
Past the human sun, in the third heaven.

iv.

So go to sleep Reyna, and dream of me,
One day we'll meet, O' please believe;
And when thou dost wake in the morrow
Thou shalt seest the clear amour that follows.

And smile we wilt do plenty of,
For we aren't of earth, but sky's above;
And when thou shalt see the light
I'll guide thee where there is no night.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane Nagley dedicated ( àgapi mou) dedicated

Naked as Spring
Several propositions,
Like life,
Offer themselves to you
And to the heart of you.
They make themselves available
As naked as the newborn Spring.

It's your choice.
Several propositions,
Like your life,
Become themselves of you
Or of the heart of you.
Some make themselves inevitable
And you believe it's your choice

And now a silence
A crushing roaring silence;
As those propositions,
Chances
Become fewer and fewer
And in the heart of you
Some things become inevitable
And this very loud silence

And now this silence,
This bruising numbing silence,
As these dispositions,
Attitudes
Become stiffer and stiffer
And in the head of you
These things that are inevitable
Are getting slower and slower

Those naked Springs ago,
All those propositions,
Your life
Fasten themselves to you
And to the heart of you
You're getting older and older
And you're as naked as a bone

                                 By Phil Roberts