Tag: poetpardy

False Security

For a decade and a half

Being lulled into safety

Tucket in tight

And nurtured right.

It was like a ride in a reliable car

That you ignore the funny sounds

Because it always got you there

No matter what.

Until you’re left stranded

At the side of the road

Counting the pebbles

Stuck in the sole of

Shoes you’ll outgrow soon.

For long after sitting on a swing

Waiting for someone to push me

No one to lower the bridge

So I can close the gap,

Valentines Day’s spent

Trying to love myself.

Knowing now that it’s okay

If every levee breaks

And every mountain shakes

And every love quakes

Because everybody breaks sometime

Even with regular maintenance,

And it’s important to love anyways

It’s how we get through this together.

– Vagabond Prophet

thanks @josy57 for the prompt “false security.” Hope people like it.

Silent Radio

It’s not broken muted or otherwise malfunctioned

It’s just what I need at this particular junction,

My own mind deafening

Need some quiet to drown it out.

Words float by on the wind

Lullabies soar on a stream,

And serenades with night sky.

The cool air complains about

The chill off my bones

And the radio sits silently

Nodding it’s support

And I crank up the hush.

You need silence

Before you can make music

You need ugliness before you can

Clothe it exquisite.

You need a blank page

Before you can drown it

In a sea of swirling thoughts,

And I needed to fall

Before I knew I needed you to catch me.

– Vagabond Prophet

Thanks @josy57 for the prompt “listening to a silent radio”

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

Neutral Ground

No Switzerland or Sweden

When our conflicts erupt

No neutral ground

To ignore the bombs

Just your love creeping

Through my veins

Threatening to invade my heart.

You’re relentless, a war monger

I’ll appease your wrath

Take what you want

When you’ve claimed all of me

Know that for this man

You’ve conquered the world.

– Vagabond Prophet

Disarmed

You were armed to the teeth

With something underneath

Disarmed by my smile

That goofy grin not yet yellow,

You ran away for miles

Losing your shoes in the mire.

Years later it was your turn

I was disarmed by your beauty,

But I ran to you not away

For yours is a beauty that beckoned me

Closer and closer still

Until nothing between us but time,

Time to let our love perfect,

Sweetening and intoxicating as

Years go by.

– Vagabond Prophet

Prompt Day 30

Islands built in lake beds

One thing her hometown

And my hometown have in common.

Lake water seeped into soil

Transforming into corn,

Mangos, tomatoes, jalapenos.

Everything worth eating.

Surrounded by volcanoes

Reminding me beauty and joy

Always come with risk.

I miss the people with skin of brown

And it taking all day to drive through town.

Pyramids reaching to the sun

And journeying it with son on back.

I expected new flavours and smells

I expected new sights and sounds

But I could never expect

A tattoo on my spirit.

Flourish and dance entrance

This stoic gringo in plaid

Leaving me speechless,

My words already meaningless.

Family I’d never met embrace me

With more tenacity than those back home,

I met every shade of every colour

On the concrete walls of houses,

I met every type of kindness

On the inside of open hearts.

My stomach always full

From the generosity of others,

Need to wake there soon

To smell a thousand smells

Whispering I’m welcome.

Home in a brand new way,

Cajeta resonating in a maple syrup man,

Pine needles replaced with cactus spines.

My money went far, my heart went further

Hasn’t quite come back

I’m going to have to chase it.

– Vagabond Prophet

      – I’m in love with Mexico in case you didn’t catch on, and as such I don’t believe I’ve done it any kind of justice. Anyways that’s the end of my prompts for National Poetry Writing Month. Drop me a line!