Waves lapping the shore
Nonchalant
There’s no hurry here.
All the time in the world
To reshape the world
The great architect that water is.
Let me share your surface
To traverse your great expanse
Fill me with your breath
So I can glide with ease.
No engine humming
No gasoline
Just you and me
Caressing each other.
You capsize me with a gust
And into your depths I’m thrust
No longer just a sailor, but fulfilling sailors dreams,
I become part of the vastness.
– Vagabond Prophet
Tag: my poetry
Thirty Acres
Thirty acres in the middle of the city
Pavement closing in on every side
Cattle grazing lazily
While I’m stuck in traffic.
How lucky you are
To be an island of green
Amidst an ocean of grey.
– Vagabond Prophet
Sunset begins, peach reduction in the sky
Sugars crystallizing at the boundaries of my gaze,
In just a few short hours I’ll lay down to sleep
Will my dreams turn to peat
And fertilize my reality?
Vagabond Prophet
Stop Moving
I actually got some sleep
For the first time in a while,
Fortifies my being
One hour at a time.
Interesting this method you chose to energize
As if to say,
“Just stop moving
So I can move through you.”
– Vagabond Prophet
Bus ahead of schedule
Sit and wait awhile
For time to catch up with us.
Vagabond Prophet
It’s brighter every morning now
Sky more blue than grey
Shedding it’s night skin
To let the day pour fourth.Here I stand
Come smother me in light
Vagabond Prophet
Muddied
You spent too long in that forbidden land
Too many lungfuls of that water
To not be muddied by it.
Every time you cough
It still smells of deceit.
It’s true God forgives
I’m trying to do the same
But the problem is my nose
It works as good as ever
And the stink of deceit is still on you
From those years long ago.
– Vagabond Prophet
Spitting off the cliffside
Watch it break its membrane
And widen its trajectory
From the green rock below
To everything, simply everything.All I can think of now is how
Last time you did this
You spat whole planets into being.
Vagabond Prophet
You’re It
Let’s go cow tipping
Mirror smashing,
Chase a black cat or two.
Shake something red
At the farmers bull
And walk blindfolded across a highway.
Macbeth!
Macbeth!
Macbeth!
Adrenaline junkies
Ain’t got nothing on me,
They still use a chute.
Maybe we’ll feel alive
Just a little more
If we play tag with death.
You’re it.
– Vagabond Prophet
Radiation Therapy
Radiation therapy
Biggest oxymoron
Fight poison with poison,
Two villains make a hero right?
Call me when I can
Irradiate my demons,
That pull out the thatching
For the nests they build inside.
– Vagabond Prophet
Vagabond Prophet 