Tag: poetry

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 dancers rejoice

vagabondprophet:

I need you to promise
This is something important
The way you move
It mustn’t change

Your swaying and bounces
Your style of dance
By jove it’s
Just awful

But it needn’t change
It matches me
If you learn it proper
I’d have to too

Instead of being taught
To count all the beats
I’d rather be with you
And count your hairs

I love you it’s true
With all your left feet
So many it’s crazy
But I love them all

Such a waste of time, learning
When we could be dancing
In our cataclysmic motion
To Our personal Symphony

vagabondprophet:

You are my love
And it moves me like a shove
And hits my like a glove

That you would be mine
All of the time
Willingly
Not under the influence of wine

You’re the jewel in my crown
Pajamas adorn you like a gown
Turning even your frown
Into glory upside down

And I know for a fact
That your claws retract
Reveiling kindness intact 
And strength compact

I’ll always be yours
To seep into your pores
You’re like the mystery of lore
And my addiction cries for more.

Glitter and shine

vagabondprophet:

All the grout between
the tiles of your mind
Glitter and shine
Glitter and shine.

Its like tinsel
Beauty unraveled
Just for me
Just for me

To see you unwind
The way you’ve done for me
You’re too kind
You’re too kind

You’re brand new smile
Straight from the box
Fits real nice
Fits real nice

My mind it wanders
To your mocha skin
Electric and soft
Electric and soft

My body petrified
Awaiting your touch
All for you
All for you

I love what you do
To the kindling of my mind
You strike a match
And you watch it catch.

Terrorist

vagabondprophet:

Darling I have some news
It just might give you the blues
I’ll try to give you the jist
Honey, I think you’re a terrorist

Its true you were kind
When you conquered my mind
But I hadn’t really a choice
Nor an audible voice

You brandished your sword
When you crossed the fjord
To a land I called my own
Now the villagers gone… flown

You slaughtered the king
With your feminine sting
Your body with it’s rise and fall
And your grand tales so tall

Your ideas filled me
At quite a steep fee
You took my heart,  called it yours
Changed the locks behind the doors

Since you came to join
There’s a new face on the coin
The cloth’s up the pole drag
With your likeness on the flag

Then a thing so strange
For you to arrange
After tasting my power
Like smelling a flower

Your new regime extinguished
Tyrants grip relinquished
When I asked you why
You winked with one eye

Your response such madness
Painted over with gladness
“ I had to wear this gown
I had to cut you down

It was all underneath
I am not a thief
Don’t you see, it’s fake?!
Your crown, I didn’t take

You smelled like petrichor
And I wanted something more
I strangled what was dead
All the old skin you shed

What was underneath
The thing in the sheath
A strength so sure
A goodness so pure

We never really fought
Your distress all for naught
I could never steal
What you offered with zeal

You offered your crown
Without even  a frown
I felt so inept
I couldn’t accept

If more kings were like you
But alas, there are so few
The kind that ought to rule
A good man, not a fool

You make love a verb
Not forgotten at the curb
Made me feel uplifted
Rather than re-gifted

I want to give myself
Don’t put me on the shelf
Love me with your power
Don’t lock me in a tower”

Isn’t this convoluted
A few points to be disputed
I’m certain I’m not good
Love me? Not sure you should

When you cut me down to size
It helped me realize
That there is plenty in store
I could be so much more

Just one answer I demand
Something I don’t understand
Why this is what you wanted
A man that is haunted

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.