Tag: peoplewithpoetry

Sunglasses

If you need proof that every soul

Is at war with itself,

Look no further than your sunglasses.

That in the darkest hour of night

We pray for dawn to break

To chase the shadows away

And illuminate your spirit.

What do you do?

What have I done?

That dearest beseeched ray of day

Finally hops the fence and is found

To be too damn brilliant

Too sharp and discerning to tolerate

It stings the eyes and scorches the skin.

I wear sunglasses,

Keep my foot in both camps

For darkness threatens to smother

And light threatens to burn me

So I stay in the middle.

So you see we are all of us

Creatures afflicted by division,

Fallen spirits trying to float upwards

While still clinging to the ground,

The best gymnast of the heart

Can’t do the splits that well.

Trash your Oakley’s

Nobody can serve two masters.

– Vagabond Prophet

Volcanic Dust


If Vesuvius would bath me

Leave an ashy mold of life.

When they come years later

And uncover me

With slow blows of chisel

What will they find?

Liquid rock ruthlessly drinking up

Everything I know and leaving a perfect casing,

A gift wrapped for a recipient

Not yet known.

Would it even be exciting?

This man was inspiring,

This man loved loudly

And cared deeply.

This man stood up
When others lay down,

Resisting the current and by that

Being the only one

To truly know it’s strength.

Or

This man was lazy

This man hit snooze too many times

Life forgot him long before this.

This man spun in circles

Never picking a direction.

Here’s hoping it doesn’t take

A volcano for me to leave a legacy.

– Vagabond Prophet

Wrought Iron

Watching her preen herself with envy green

Attempts to sharpen herself

on the surface of you

Only left her more dull.

Shavings scattered on the ground in a rainbow arc.

By this method you’ve been tempered,

From fire to water and back again.

This is what the bellows wrought

A blade both cunning and beautiful.

Wrought iron sought no siren

To draw attention to herself,

Unlike the one who gouged bits out

To begin this brutal work,

The catalyst of forges holy.

I’m no dummy I know

What swords are made for

I’ve only nicked my knuckles

And I can’t imagine the blows you’ve known

To become this instrument honed.

But you don’t use your edge

For causing harm, pain, or alarm

Rather to protect the loved ones you collect

A guardian, a safe place, a strong defender.

– Vagabond Prophet

Prompt Day 29

Baa baa black sheep have you any wool?

Any trough not yet full

Any fervor to pull

In a direction of my choosing?

Away from the herd

You can fly like a bird

You’ll be more at home

If you leave your present loam.

Baa baa black sheep you may be a bear

Taken for a sheep, didn’t even care.

If your teeth are sharp be what you are

Do you work, I’ll do mine, play this harp from afar.

– Vagabond Prophet

      – Today’s prompt: Renovate a Nursery Rhyme.

Prompt Day 28

Christmas time comes soon

And they’ll be home for christmas,

Those that can navigate their way

Across the Atlantic to my front door.

Old Fashioned everybody?

They all smile and nod

All of us wearing same toque

Without even meaning to.

Bulleit Bourbon everytime,

The extra 5% for anybody

Who can’t make it this year.

More than one bottle

To last us past three days,

Mixing it extra strong

To loosen words.

Got to get those gears spinning

Make up for lost time,

Catch up just in time

To say goodbye once more.

– Vagabond Prophet

I’ve got a sugar rush with nowhere to put it. So I’ll stand here sneering at nobody in particular, I’m just spending my magic on condescension and hoping I make some friends. I’m yeastless but sweet like seedless watermelon, excepting of course for my perpetual dehydration. Too much coffee not enough water, interesting that four spoons of grounds can outweigh two cups of water and make the scales come crashing down one sided. Some things are potent and unyielding, so fully single faceted and unable to negotiate for the ambition of just one goal pounding in their ears.

– Vagabond Prophet

       – First ever sprint like that.

Prompt Day 27


Most nights dreamless

Sleep found seamless

A border into restfulness

With no crossing guard.

My dreams get out during day

And at night I won’t dismay

For I’ve got magic in my brain

And lyrics in my vain.

I won’t wait for dreams at night

I won’t chew my nails and bite

It’s like waiting for high tide

While sitting at the lake side.

The body content in its fullness

In its being fed by outside sources,

And in the stillness of the night.

– Vagabond Prophet

        – Today’s prompt: 

Write about the dreams that keep you up at night.

Would love to see other peoples work on this prompt.

Floorboard

I’ll be your groaning floorboard

Known by grunts of pleasure

To be near your footfall.

I’ll be your squeaky door

Always lamenting

To see you go.

I’ll be your lumpy mattress

Flawed but supportive,

Shaped over time

To the curve of your spine

And always rattled by our love.

– Vagabond Prophet

Dead Grapes


Fifty year old Bordeaux

A truly lovely bottle,

Travel back in time

See history of this wine

And be shocked at transformation.

Before alcohol

Before corks and bottles

Before oak casks

Is simply a mound of dead grapes.

Musn’t be afraid of death,

Only doorway

To another kind of life.

– Vagabond Prophet