Tag: poetry

Letters Unsent

You began to grow hazy

At the edge of my memory,

Sharpening your knife

On the spinning wheel of my mind.

You took my foggy view

Folding to make some clarity

Shouting words unkind

About different timelines unexplored

Involving strange knots in ropes

Involving headstones with your name.

I lied to you that day,

Left letters unsent, clinging to my tongue

Like bungee jumpers that

Can’t trust the harness won’t

Stretch into oblivion.

I was so shaken by your absence

I couldn’t tell you the truth

So I said nothing at all for months.

I left letters unsent

Words blurred on tear soaked pages.

I grew past you in a year

Like a bamboo grows past an oak,

Me young and strong, sprouting suddenly

You old and creased and resonating

Of my childhood forests

Where we’d collect the biggest leaves.

Now I can see you were

Marred from the start

With regrets running so deep

As to be confused with roots.

You were small and passionate

And you made human mistakes,

I’m strong now,

Like a plant forced to climb

The cracks in the sidewalk.

Stronger for it

And marked by it.

The letters are burned now

And we can embrace again

Though I still get confused

Whether I’m looking up at you

Down at you

Or if we’re at last on level ground.

– Vagabond Prophet

Thanks @josy57 for prompting me with “letters unsent.”

mildreflections:

Fruits of the Spirit #5

Self-Control as defined by the poetic dictionary:

To take a breath and count to ten, dissolving vehemence without spiting venom. To hold your ground and be the bigger man, even if your world is in mayhem and the frenzy overwhelms.  

Other definitions include:

· To want patiently, never forcing or pushing for things forbidden.

·  Never crossing the line between desire and greed, knowing the worth of               morals over ambition.

·  Letting ripples of stones gently pass, finding stillness soon enough.

Synonyms Include:

·  Patience

·  Calm

·   Balanced

Antonyms Include:

·  Hot headed

·  Reckless

·  Careless

Self- control is to love cookies but never finish the box, always keeping something for the rest of us.

                                            -Mild Reflections

Pleased to be working with @vagabondprophet. Thank you for bearing with my delay.  

I like this a lot, beyond pleased to be collaborating with you on this, I can’t think of anybody I’d rather tackle this with. Check this blog out people it’s amazing.

R.I.P.

One year ago today

You decided to go

Sometimes I’m in disbelief

I didn’t know

So we weep

With tears for you

As an ocean opens up

To swallow you

Gravity reversed, taking things away

While your demons on fear fed

Maybe thinking you’d find

a place for your head

Did you feel cold

And lost in desperation?  

When you were standing

in the wake of devastation

We wonder what you’d say

About this grief unraveled

Maybe ‘weep not

For roads untraveled’

In the wastelands of today

When there’s nothing left to lose

You showed us how to survive

That’s a truth not a ruse

No I don’t know

Why is everything so heavy

How much water is too much

For this splintering levee

You helped so many stay afloat

And keep climbing their ladder,

Wherever you are please know

In the end, it really did matter.

– Vagabond Prophet

– Rest In Peace Chester Bennington, we miss you.

Captain

This house will be full

Of heads needing rest

And mouths needing food.

Every bedroom window being

Fogged by steady breathing.

At the break of dawn

Seven souls will be stirred,

I’m the captain with an

Ever growing crew

And I need some wind at my back.

– Vagabond Prophet

Grip

Grip tightly to the bravery

Caught at brightest noon

When your form casts no darkness

Behind itself.

Grip tightly through

The long evening shadows

And the deep black of night

Until the sun boldly climbs the hills again.

– Vagabond Prophet

The Man Of Stones

mildreflections:

His eyes were red and teary so,

Nothing he said could be heard.

They all called him a crazy soul,

As he walked with a bag of stones

He dearly loved.

They watched him stumble,

And tear his skin,

The pavement marks his bloody path.

When asked why he walks with such heavy things,

He only said

They were close to his heart.

So he tread with pain,

And an arched back,

Always hurt, but never shown.

They said it was because he had forgotten,

That he was only a man of flesh and bones.

I think they missed his eager eye,

Always hoping for that final stop.

Somewhere he could place his rocks and sigh,

Relieved that he could finally rest his thighs.

Alas! They found him on the ground,

Buried under the weight of his dear stones.

They mourned the fool,

And cursed at his ill fate,

Feigning some care and compassion.

But never saw the peaceful smile,

That blessed his face.

That lay forgotten.

That lay forgotten.

                                – Mild Reflection

Love this.

Kamikaze

I have no blood

I have no heart

Only a red sea in my chest

Tide in highs and lows

Every single second

At the beckoning of a moon

Behind the very sky.

Pulled by things unseen

Plucking feathers clean

Pruning vanity clipping pride

Silencing remarks so snide.

In the end I’ll be a nomad

Walking ever inland

To where the gardens grow

I’ll have no grass to mow

Only seeds to sow.

Come with me

Come one come all

Untie the dreams safely moored

Let them risk open waters

And swift unseen currents.

Be swept away by the music

That’s played in the background

Of your dreams.

Be the kamikaze 

That forgot to say goodbye

Overwhelmed by the importance

Of the task at hand.

– Vagabond Prophet

mildreflections:

Angel

How big were your beautiful wings?

How young was my soul?

You wrapped me in a sweet embrace,

And I didn’t realize the world could be foul.

I grew up believing,

The stories you fed me for sleep.

Tales of magical creatures,

Lives of ruthless kings and sweet queens.

I was blinded by your love,

So I wasn’t ready to see,

When your feathers fell like your hair,

And the needles scarred your skin.

Drilling to tatters,

Your seamless wings.

When the lustrous glow of your eyes,

Was slowly poisoned by your cure.

And the brave smile that you put on,

Broke under the pain of it all.

I wasn’t prepared,

So I did not know what to say.

I hope you understood,

That I loved you every one of our counted days.

How big were your beautiful wings?

How foolish was I all along?

To not know that even angels could fall,

And someday forever be gone.

                                  – Mild Reflections

                                 ( dedicated to my mother ) 

So beautiful.

Fruits of the Spirit #3

Faithfulness as defined by the poets dictionary:

Definition: Anchors firmly dug into place, to a solid ground nobody else believes is there. Mocks and jeers go floating past as you realize the irony that nobody notices you are not swept away by torrents of madness, despair, or tragedy. Strength tempering your bones into something unrecognizable but so much stronger.

Other definitions include: The knowledge that nobody taught you that guides your every move.

The immovable convictions of a country not found in maps, content that you the amateur cartographer that you are will diligently chart it all when you get there.  

Having a song stuck in your head that you’ve never heard before, and believing that the composer is whispering in a language just for the two of you.

Antonyms include: Cynicism, refusal to separate truths from facts braided though they are, uninvested in the definitions given by the compass of your soul. Untethered as a buoy that warns of nothing.

Only faith promises that there is more to the ocean than water; all because of a dream you once had of it taking your sins out to sea and down to Davie Jones and sending back in their place salvation.

– Vagabond Prophet

@mildreflections thanks for joining me on this project! I am beyond pleased to be collaborating with such a talented poet. Hope you enjoy this addition.