Tag: poetpardy

Our DNA braided together
To make a brand new person,
Now laying in our bed
Perpendicular to logic itself.

I’ll be woken by a sleepy kick
In the jaw or the nose,
But to lose her and gain sleep
Would be the stuff of nightmares.

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.

Seeing Red


We can argue whether

Blood is red or blue

Instead of addressing

The hole it’s spilling out of.

Or we could staunch the flow

By whatever we can find,

Cloth left bleaching in the sun

Just waiting for opportunity

To be dyed by tragedy.

I understand you’re both

Feeling blue and seeing red

But we can mend this over time

So don’t let it all unwind.

– Vagabond Prophet

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

Prompt Day 26

The irony of pleasant weather

When we learned we’re not to be together.

The currents of discontent

Loosening you from the riverbed.

Nearly thirty long years of marriage,

Erosion is a persistent thing.

I think you taught me that

Driving past canyons

Above river beds long gone dry

Water having spent itself

On carving things uncarvable.

The worst storm for me was this

Most strange in its calmness.

No screaming match

No begging at the door.

Excepting of course for

The screaming match days later

Where I spoke my greatest lie.

The cold front met the warm front

Swirling around dancing beautiful

Save for its destruction

Ash clouds floating down

To smother what was left.

I said very little.

What is there to say

To the one who taught you speech

When he leaves.

Plates shifting earth quaking

I was shaken awake

By a thirst unslaked.

I’m not thirsty anymore,

And we still touch

Though from opposite sides

Of the canyon.

– Vagabond Prophet

      – Today’s prompt: 

Write about the worst storm you’ve ever experienced.

          So this might be cheating but it’s what came to mind.