Insurance
I am the .1 percent
Can’t be disinfected
I’m the tsunami
That can’t be detected
And for the house fire
That can’t be expected
They say insurance,
Get insurance
But insurance is just paper
You scribbled all over
Saying you’ll get money
When your world is over
Money’s just paper
And paper starts fires
This just complicates
And stirs in me a fire
So now you understand
I hope it’s all clear
If you lose everything
That you hold dear
Your paper won’t help you
I won’t be held liable
When I take your life
Like something easily pliable
Because I’m
About
to snap.
Tag: creative writing
Solitary Refinement Chapter 26
Dear Joshua April 15th 2018
I hear what you’re saying and I appreciate that you’re concerned about my safety and that you want to help me take care of the other things dear to my heart. I really do. I just can’t do that though, I can’t talk to anybody about Kal or Trevor and if I know Liz at all if I trouble her with legal garbage than any chance I have of mending things is gone for sure. I just have to hope that at some point the last drop of water will flow under the bridge and she will miss me enough to come by with the kids. With Kal and Trevor though that’s a whole different animal. Let me put this plainly, if I complain that Trevor has threatened me and that I feel threatened by Kal I may be killed. Trevor has friends in high places so I can’t really trust any of the authorities I may complain to, and even if I complain about Kal I don’t want to have that conversation with Trevor when he says something like, “So I heard you don’t think I can keep you safe, well let’s see how who you do on your own.” It’s just, it’s all bad. Thanks for trying to help but this is one of those things that rests squarely on my shoulders.
Yesterday I accidentally broke the tip off of a knife in my cooking class when I was trying to filet a fish and I bent the blade too far trying to get between the skin and the meat. The teacher told me to put the knife in the garbage and get another. I nodded, and pocketed it.
Joshua, please understand me. That was the most terrifying moment of my existence. Not proposing to Liz worried she would say no, not the complicated births of our children, not all the times I had to skulk back home and tell her I was out of work again. This was even more terrifying than that time we were hiking and I slipped on some gravel and almost tumbled down a cliffside, or the time I was driving my car and got hit by a snow plow.
It was a simple enough thing to do that I’m sure nobody noticed, but it was like in that moment I made the decision that I will kill somebody if I think I need to. Like I’m a murderer at heart just waiting for a life to take and nobody else knows it yet. Having finally passed that check mark of morality, that under the right circumstances I’ve decided I will stab somebody to death, I really didn’t feel good about myself in that moment but I also felt like I kind of had to. I also felt a strange sense of power that I wasn’t entirely comfortable with. The means and resolve to kill is not something that sits well with me but I need to get back to my family one day and that means I need to survive prison. I tried to stay under the radar, I tried not to make enemies but I have them anyways.
I didn’t worry about Kal sleeping beneath me as much last night while I lay there with my white knuckled grip on the knives plastic grip. I actually slept a bit myself. My God did I need that. You don’t have kids so I can’t compare my exhaustion to you with even that. When your tired taking care of kids it’s a happy kind of tired. Yeah your sweaty and dirty from playing with them at the park and cleaning up after them in every imaginable way, but it’s your children and you’d do anything for them. The weariness that comes with fearing for your life is so completely different, always checking over your shoulder. Every time I’m standing outside and I feel the wind on my neck I’m filled with dread that I’ll turn around to see Kal pushing me down to do something horrible. Relentless panic is a horrible thing and I hope you never experience it. Maybe animals really can smell fear.
Do you think anybody else here feels the way I do?
Thirty Two
Thirty Two years old
And he’s really gone.
Body beautifully adorned
And underground.
What now life?
What will you do now?
Will you strike me down
Or make me endure this?
Future I can’t see
Evasive and ever changing,
The past never changes
But tortures every moment.
The present sharpens
And blunts me
In equal measure,
Useless for every task at hand.
How will I scrape
Out an existence,
If grief sands me down
To a featureless stone.
Blunt and sharp in equal measure,
Useless for every task at hand.
– Vagabond Prophet
Bullet
I hope I die from a bullet,
Something loud and final,
At least I lived well enough,
To make some enemies.
– Vagabond Prophet
Black Coffee
I’m exhausted today
And it only gets worse,
Black coffee
Empty stomach
Invigorating
Unsettling.
Should get up earlier,
But I just want to stay with her.
Cleft Heart
Early October when the bomb went off,Tearing us apart.
A brother here, a sister there.
Scattered across the globe.
Like the shock had made
Roots suddenly disappear.
Wandering to find them again.
Something to anchor me to life,
And something to pretend
That none of this ever happened.
It was like walking under a tree
Green burning bright
Like a star in the night.
Until it drops its snow
Right down your back
And your spine inverts itself.
The snow no colder than
The snowball fight earlier.
But never expected.
I never expected any of this
I trusted you,
I loved you.
But after you left,
We didn’t talk for months.
You didn’t understand that.
How could you think,
Nothing would change between us?
When you tore my heart right out.
I was a child,
Not a liver,
I’m not that resilient!
Are you stupid?
Or can you just think
That wishfully?
Couldn’t you have thought wishfully,
About her too?
Build her up in your mind.
Something better than she was,
Instead of leaving me all alone with her,
The only boy around.
We were six!
Then just three,
Only boy was me.
Brothers dug for oil,
Money for their toil.
We all got new family.
Pretend it’s normal
This prefix ‘step’ for everybody.
A monosyllabic word for ignorance.
Did you have stinging nettles
In the corners of your mind,
Shrouding your secrets from yourself?
I didn’t know what a man was!
How could I instantly become?
I guess you didn’t know either.
I found a new father,
He’s never let me down.
He’s unshakable.
Yeah we talk now,
About the weather,
And the price of gas.
But it will never be the same,
I can’t think that wishfully.
I won’t struggle to get as close.
You used to hold me close,
Just to be near me,
I treasure the memory.
It was twelve years ago you left,
Twelve years with a cleft heart.
When you changed the definition of home.
I’m trying to be eloquent now,
But all I can think of,
Is just how much it hurt.
– Vagabond Prophet
Sirens
When your mom’s as frail as mine
And you hear sirens blast,
You worry every time
You see them screaming past.
– Vagabond Prophet
Solitary Refinement Chapter 25
Dear Joshua April 3rd 2018
Hey Josh, I think I’m ready to talk to you again I just need to set something straight. Don’t talk bad about my wife. I get it, you see your friend being treated badly by his own wife and you want to say something about it and from your position I can see how you can see it’s not a ridiculous thing to wonder about. I just, I know she wouldn’t do that. If I let my mind wander that way I know that I’ll go crazy. I can’t take it to lose the hope of having my family back again one day.
So I got confirmation that I’m definitely not overreacting by being freaked out by Kal, just the other day I saw one of the guards that I hadn’t seen in a long time tell me he’d be worried if he was me. He said Kal’s cellmates never last this long and that Kal must be getting frustrated, said to be careful and watch my back. It seems as though the guards can’t do anything about behaviour like Kal’s though, until he actually does something to me and I make an official complaint they can’t move me or him or anything like that. How wonderful it is to have my fears confirmed and then be told that there is no solution available to me. I’m so freaking done, every morning I look in the mirror and I see a frightened pair of eyes in a weary body.
When I’m not working in the kitchen I’ve been in the library here, I just realized they had one recently. I used to like reading as a kid but as an adult after work and playing with the kids I always felt too tired to read and would fall asleep shortly after ever picking a book up. Now since I can barely sleep anyways I am actually able to read again. They have a few poetry books that I am enjoying, reading over and over as much as I can in the few minutes I have to spare. I love novels, but poetry is different. I’m learning lots of new words from them that I have to look up in the dictionary. It’s just so interesting that the pain and suffering of these poets chose to manifest itself in such beautiful ways. It helps me feel even though I’m going through this terrible season in my life, it can maybe just maybe mean something to somebody.
Pell-mell
The current it sucks
All my fervor it plucks
And down it throws
To Davie jones.
But my love for you
And all that you do
Will never grow old
Forgotten or cold.
Your grin from ear to ear
Your unstoppable cheer
Your hair it fell
All messy and Pell-mell.
I quite like your voice
Saying I’m your choice
Insistent you are not deigning
Yourself to a man that is waning.
– Vagabond Prophet
Glory Upside Down
You are my love
And it moves me like a shove
And hits me like a glove.
That you would be mine
All of the time
Willingly
Not under the influence of wine.
You’re the jewel in my crown
Pajamas adorn you like a gown
Turning even your frown
Into glory upside down.
And I know for a fact
That your claws retract
Reveiling kindness intact
And strength compact.
I’ll always be yours
To seep into your pores
You’re like the mystery of lore
And my addiction cries for more.
– Vagabond Prophet