The Poetry of Jeffrey L. H. Naylor

In a cold, stony room, golden bowls and bowls of jewels,
Adorn the temple of uh..uh..I don’t think we know anymore!
Sleeping with golden gild, a Pharaoh once greater than Pantagruel,
Now dozing away in a box of stone, ain’t this here afterlife a bore?
Yeah, the old man is just kicking back and spending some time,
With a broken down chariot, ouch! Whoa, Eternity keeps rolling along.
I know the old Pharaoh really thought this hip tomb totally sublime.
Standing and watching the old man lie, I heard the bong of a gong.
Was it the whispering wind? I don’t know! Or a trick on my ear?
Watching ancient Egyptian girls, it sounded cool, from where I stood.
If it was Pharaoh’s ghost, he ought to know ain’t nobody gonna fear,
What he used to be, what he thinks he was.What’s up Phah, bad or good?
Then I it heard it again, yeah him, “GET OUT” so the Pharaoh said.
Okay, okay, I hear you man, sleep in your rock. Ahhh! I’ll keep my bed.

sisters of presence, the sun and the moon,
encompass the earth like the curve of a spoon.
and never the one will leave the sky of space,
just to mock the movements that shadows chase.

the design of the cosmos insists they stay,
to array the sphere within their rays.
always awake, always alive,
filling with energy the saturnine sky.

moon monitors space when all is black
sun takes charge when the day is cracked.
whether night or day, neither leaves their post,
loyal sentinels over sunlit or darkened coast.

sisters of presence, the sun and the moon,
their only distinction is who’s in charge.
intelligent designs of the cosmos large,
taking turns, creating beauty with celestial rune.

i search in silence for saccharine love
resounding resonantly in my heart.
maddened vibrations shudder in solemn
pitch confirming that my search never
coalesces upon the mark so true, but
in endless time magnetizes toward a pole
of contrary substance. it pulls me boldly
from that which i seek, frustrating
my life with furrowed fanciful folds…
i search in silence with stealthy hope,
never ceasing to arouse the desire
that pushes pursuit of the loud resound,
beating a path sought, but not yet found
to a future awaiting my journey’s end.

Let our souls be adjoined, sheltered
From hell’s nostril’s stormy blasts.
Forever we cling, interwoven, cocooned.
In silk residing, secure and hidden.
Tenderly we love forever,
True and sweet, never forbidden.

i feel discovered when we talk. . .
you are the dream in my sleep
you are the air i want to breathe.
now my heart pumps blood so fast
like liquid fire through my body.
when now i speak to you. . .
i feel you are born inside my heart.
my lovely, how we can ask someone
to give us blessing that our love will last?
what holy thing shall we do?
burn a candle?
whisper to God in heaven?
what? i want to know.
the longer we talk in motionless time
the more my heart slowly burns within me.
love is the needle piercing our hearts,
threading us bound as one and the same.
my only link to love and understanding
is the passion erupting in my veins,
for a girl i once thought only a dream.

Often, without logic or warning,
Full circles of obscurity eclipse
The smile that enlightens my life.
Too often.
She, and her smile, tease me.
All of me.
My whole life.
Of this, she is aware,
Yet, equally ignorant.

Somebody should be told that my second wife is outside my head now.
The old memories were just bags of junk no longer allowed.
I’m out of danger, thank-you, but it had become miserably, too much!
My ex was stuck in my head, and people agreed, I was in a clutch.
Doesn’t it get tiresome pushing some old worn out memory plough?
Time spent thinking about old stuff I could no longer allow.
My wresting mind knew of only one thing that could carry her away,
Out of my nights, and out of my dreams, and out of the way.
I had to take her outside my head where the past can never be found.
All the experts were quick to reassure, only this could stop my frown.
I’m Zeus, she’s sprung outside of my head, I swear, lost in the tide.
Souse forever the idea that ever there was a Dr. Jekyll’s Mrs. Hyde.
Caught by the undertow, Me Head washed her from my Thinking Land,
Into a forgotten place of broken dreams and youth’s misguided plans.
A place most qualifiedly nearer my healing heart than my broken head.
I paused to doubt her redoubtable cause to stay in my head instead!
Alas, she’s outside my head now, lost in a briny perpendicularity,
Swallowing her eagerly into a bottomless sea of definitive singularity
I thought somebody should be told about this head-dwelling woman,
Whether you are him or her, young or never old, beware my omen!

run with me upon the flowering grass. . .
taste with me the air i breathe.
it is not your face i merely see,
but golden hot eyes of crimson glass,
burning hollow a treasured place
where marks timeless love’s trace.
when i look into the floating mist
hanging ’round you like angel hair
i fall dizzy into emotions rare,
touching deep into a heart ne’er kissed.
emergent love broths propellant in finding you.
i am scion to a glaring aim that guides me true.
love idles not in motionless space to be found.
it lies in secret places in beauty wound.
run with me upon strings of harmony
and hear with me love sweetly sung,
creating fresh forever a binding melody
understood when sung in any tongue.

Have you fallen in love, yet?
As the leaves of summer
Wait for the autumn to
Find their release?

Have you fallen in love, yet?
And will you turn early
Taking rest by my side
Seeking solace for your love?

Have you fallen in love, yet?
Does the season wait for
You to sense the need to turn
Finding completion in the unknown?

Have you fallen in love, yet?
Or is the unknown a fallen
Enemy of the heart?
Tomorrow’s love a victim of hesitation’s sigh!

Racing and bounding she wiggles and giggles…
Freezes and pleases and smells tastes of red licorice.
Hair black flowing long and straight marks her beauty
Shining with life and love, unknown to some, but
Foremost only to me she promises her guileless heart.
Sweetened in love’s darkness, Saengpen passionately pierces
To melt my heart with joy ice hot each time I feel her,
Each time I hear her, each time I near her. Each time
I want her becomes each time she overwhelms me to release her.
As she spars with me upon the playing floor, tickling red or
Tosses wildly upon her bed coiffeured in pigtailed adolescence,
She deigns herself a figurine configured from storybook tales.
Reality yields to the yearning prevailing in her travailing,
Pealing for freedom’s false forms filled with the hopes of
Empty nests. Learning in confirming the loss of less is a matter
Simply to regress. An illusory life she mischievously lives, but
Seeking with spirits searching, she cries and screams to exist
For a moment when innocent love in purity rests.