Tag: poetpardy

Solitary Refinement Chapter 10

Dear Joshua                               

October 15th 2017

    What!? Are you serious?! Out on the curb with a free sign? Oh man that made me so upset I had to wait a few days to even reply to your letter. So I went to all the trouble to do extra work around here, often doing Trevor’s share too to get you that money. Then you wasted your own damn time picking that stupid trike up from whoever was selling it and dropped it off at my place. Liz knew exactly why it was there and still put it out on the curb. Did I ever tell you that I’m still giving Trevor my desserts as payment for that favour? I hope that little Nina didn’t see it and understand that it was meant for her before it got left out in the rain. I can see it all too clear in my head.

First she would see it and her eyes would light up, then she would start jumping up and down and giggling and screaming,

“Fir me fir me! Birfday Birfday yayyy!”

Then her brother would probably get her shoes and helmet while she was busy doing her happy dance so she could try it out right away. Then once she realized it was being taken away her mood would go back down, more slowly than it rose. Her grin would shift and tremble and then get stuck upside down. Her eyes would fill with tears as she tried to hold them back and then she wouldn’t be able to any longer and she’d just wail and wail and wail. Man I really hope that’s not how it went down.

What would she have said to poor little Nina?

“Sorry this isn’t for you?”

“This is here by mistake?”

“This is here from Daddy but you can’t have it?”

“Daddy is a bad guy and we don’t take things from bad guys?”

I just don’t get it man, it’s a birthday present for a child who has nothing to do with  any of this. I hope Nina gets to have a fun party, she might not I was usually the one to plan all that and invite all her friends. This blows it’s not fair to anybody what does Liz think she’s gaining or doing by hurting her own daughter like this? It’s just so vindictive and bitchy. Freaking unbelievable.

Thanks anyways for doing all that work to get it to her, it must have been a pretty big inconvenience. Ugh this is so damn awful I can’t even think right now. I’ll try to think of something else for their Christmas presents once I’m not so upset. Her third birthday and I had one chance to do something special for her so she knows I’m still thinking of her and I blew it. What was I thinking if she’s not letting me see them why did I think she’d let them receive stuff from me. I guess I hoped she’d put the kids first.

vagabondprophet:

Balsa Wood

If I could remake you

Out of balsa wood

Would I?

You’d be lighter

Yet strong,

Easily take flight.

The wind would push

Against your wings

And caress your face.

Ascension, descension,

Thrown by the carelessness

Of the air and the sky.

Letting every splinter

Alter your course,

Dancing on the map.

Would you even return,

Fight the current

To come back to me.

I see you in the flesh

And swear

You’re something better

Could I set you free?

Free of the land

And free of me.

Knots and imperfections

Same as now,

But you would fly.

You belong

High above me,

A distant speck.

I can’t make this choice

I’m selfish in my love,

What say You?

Wind filled wingspan?

Or me, simply me,

Pink tongue, white teeth.

I’ll be yours

To hold and kiss,

To wriggle against.

I know it’s a poor choice.

I’ve always ruffled

One too many feathers.

So which is it?

The clouds,

Cotton and dewy.

Or me, simply me

I’ll hold you close

And love you tenderly.

If you wish

I’ll remake you

Out of balsa wood

But know that if

The gale proves too much,

You may return to me

I’d make you safe again

Peeling back every ring

Of that lovely balsa wood.

– Vagabond Prophet

My shooting star

vagabondprophet:

Dark and twinkling
Only for a second
But in that moment
So radiant and bright

Somehow more brightly coloured
An elegant display
Than anything of the day
On the land or in the sky

Books say just a rock
Floating in the vastness
But I know better
You spoke to me that night

It’s everything I’ve sought
But haven’t given name
The song I remember
But can’t quite sing along

Come back to me
My shooting star
I need you now
To illuminate my life

You’re my flickering hope
Straining in the wind
When you come down to meet me
Don’t crumble coming in.

Bad weather

vagabondprophet:

The weather man gives me the finger
Says it’s gonna be a long one
Snow falls like a feather weight
To beat me to the punch

It cuts the chord
So the line stays quiet
So I simply shout
Sorry darling but I’m stuck out here

Creeping white
Scale the windows slowly
No power now
Frost outside and in

I can see my breath
Shaped like your name
I hope you find it
Because it’s my last.

Balsa Wood

If I could remake you

Out of balsa wood

Would I?

You’d be lighter

Yet strong,

Easily take flight.

The wind would push

Against your wings

And caress your face.

Ascension, descension,

Thrown by the carelessness

Of the air and the sky.

Letting every splinter

Alter your course,

Dancing on the map.

Would you even return,

Fight the current

To come back to me.

I see you in the flesh

And swear

You’re something better

Could I set you free?

Free of the land

And free of me.

Knots and imperfections

Same as now,

But you would fly.

You belong

High above me,

A distant speck.

I can’t make this choice

I’m selfish in my love,

What say You?

Wind filled wingspan?

Or me, simply me,

Pink tongue, white teeth.

I’ll be yours

To hold and kiss,

To wriggle against.

I know it’s a poor choice.

I’ve always ruffled

One too many feathers.

So which is it?

The clouds,

Cotton and dewy.

Or me, simply me

I’ll hold you close

And love you tenderly.

If you wish

I’ll remake you

Out of balsa wood

But know that if

The gale proves too much,

You may return to me

I’d make you safe again

Peeling back every ring

Of that lovely balsa wood.

– Vagabond Prophet

vagabondprophet:

Slave

You said you were a stranger

But you said it so friendly that I didn’t quite believe you at first.

You offered me a bottle

When you saw that I was panting,

clearly dieing of thirst.

I eyed it with suspicion

And you spoke unto me,

“It’s a long long way I’ve marched,

thirst has no respect for drought,

And I know your throat is parched.”

I took a deep draft

Like a fool

Really daft

And I’m pretty sure I’m suffering now

Went down sweeter than love

Now tremors are gripping me like a glove.

“Take my money take my money

make this all go away,

Take my money take my money

Make this come to an end.”

With a deep deep laugh you Chuckled and spat,

“Not your money but your life!  Your blood your soul your heart, that’s what I wanted, that’s what I wanted from the start”

I want everything, everything, everything that makes you you.

Eviscerated violated taken to the grave.

That’s what I want,  I want a slave

You never once said no,

You never once said go,

You’re conviction ain’t consistent

You were far from resistant.

Maybe next time you’ll arm yourself against all your favourite tastes and smells

Or you may find yourself on tour in the deepest depths of hell.

I want everything, everything, everything that makes you you.

Eviscerated violated taken to the grave.

That’s what I want,  I want a slave

I woke up panting

you step into the mirror,

Took a deep bow and then you said,

“If this isn’t want you wanted

Well then you won’t be haunted

But if I’m honest I think that you will be.”

– Vagabond Prophet

– First song I’ve written in about five years.