Original Poetry about anything and everything.
You’re shapeless and that’s hard sometimes
I try to picture you and my mind just swirls
Like cream poured slowly into coffee.
This one thing helps,
That you’ve shaped everything I’ve ever loved.
Every contour and edge,
All the care and strength transcendent.
Everything captures much,
Nothing escapes that net called “everything”
Except you.
– Vagabond Prophet
Some things get harder,
With each stroke of times brush.
Like getting out of bed,
Believing in magic,
And making friends.
Like how cravings get stronger
For candy that disappoints
More and more each bite.
– Vagabond Prophet
He’d painstakingly inched along
From his room, in a wheelchair
So slowly that with each rotation
The world made a rotation on its axis,
He made glaciers look swift.
He was so very old
That time had made knots in his mind,
And knit wrinkles in his spine.
He sat in front
Of that silver machine
And asked me
“How do I get ice out of here?”
Honesty is the best policy,
Or so I’ve been told
So I plainly told him,
“Sir, that’s a blanket warmer.”
– Vagabond Prophet
I haven’t been honest
Since the womb.
Lying about
Why I’m crying.
Not crying about being torn
From my home,
I cried for the world I was born into.
I heard her heartbeat,
Beating in time with her malcontent,
She didn’t even have to say it
I felt it in the blood she gave me.
The world is unsafe
And we’re made for the next one,
Just help some people get there
That’s what she told me.
– Vagabond Prophet
I woke up next to her again
To that blooming goddess
Of warmth and beauty.
I woke up to the joyful squeals
Of two healthy children
Just happy for another day.
My hearing degrades
With each new frequency
My daughters voice discovers,
Fearlessly trailblazing
The uncharted waters of sound.
My mind is blown by the fact
That my son of five
Is imagining stories far beyond me,
A natural storyteller.
I have everything I need.
Some days I’m plagued with worry
Doubt and cynicism.
But today,
Today is good.
– Vagabond Prophet
In a world where there’s no such thing as anonymous
Someone is always watching,
Where can we go to have a private conversation.
Where our words can wrestle each other
And when you come out on top
I’ll have a stupid grin
Because all I ever wanted
Was for you to pin me.
My back on the ground
With nothing left to give
But my devotion.
– Vagabond Prophet
Everyone has a cross to bare
But you didn’t make all shoulders the same did you?
Mine are broad for a child
And slim for a man
Do you know what I mean?
I just don’t want to be alone
The only thing to save me aches me
But I’ll be saved in the end
Without anymore nails too.
You did that for me,
You carried the world on your shoulders
Those expansive masts of strength
The sails in between
Filled with our sins
To sail through death
And come out the other side
Alive enough for all of us.
– Vagabond Prophet
We all wonder
Why the sky is blue
But has anybody just asked it?
She’s pretty blue and might
Need someone to talk to.
I heard a story once about people up north.
Where there’s long days and long winters
And the snow piles higher than houses.
They hunt wolves in winter,
Finding ways to do it safely.
Horrific and brilliant methods.
Take a knife and dip it in blood
Freeze the blood on the blade,
Do this over and over
Ten times over.
Until the blade is deep beneath a thick coat
A winter coat of deepest red.
Leave it in the open blade pointing up
Saluting the sky
Taking a bow before the grand performance
The great seduction of the beast.
Curiosity can be wonderful,
Curiosity can be devastating.
A hint on the wind
And the scent makes itself at home
Amongst happy memories
Eating dinner with family.
You come out of the trail
Seeing this tower of scarlet
Amidst this ocean of white,
You remember this shade of red.
It wasn’t the first lick that killed you
But it sealed your fate to be sure.
Those that live by the sword die by the sword
Those that thirst for blood drown in their own.
Niceties we say to excuse our guilt,
You never stood a chance against this trap
It looks like food
It smells like food
And it even tastes like food.
Your tongue swarms into every crevice
Made by the swirling vapours
Of your hot breath excited
Panting with desire and hunger.
You lick and lick and lick
And endless fountain of your favourite flavour
You denied yourself nothing.
The blood just kept coming,
First from the frozen blood
Thawed by your warmth,
But then it switched and you didn’t notice.
Did you?
Can’t pinpoint the second but sometime
Your tongue met the steel
Blood now spouting from many sources
And you swear it’s the best day you’ve ever had.
You died in a garden dyed crimson,
By the fleshy brush jutting forth
From your strong jaws
Bathed in your own paint.
I just listened to the story,
Dumbstruck.
I’ve never understood
A wild animal better than now,
I’ve been betrayed
By my longings too.
Curiosity can be wonderful,
Curiosity can be devastating.
– Vagabond Prophet
You taught me about oil paintings
How they’re always drying
Colours evolving
To find their own beauty
Hidden deep within.
I’ll be that for you
Never perfect but improving
Peeling off my layers
To find strength down under.
As I let the sun embolden me
Year after year.
– Vagabond Prophet
Vagabond Prophet 