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

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.

Soul Mates

I used to believe

In true love and soulmates,

Now I know it false.

It’s true she’s my mate

And that she has my soul

But I chose her

And she chose me.

No accident no ‘falling in’

Like slipping in mud

Or slowly going mad.

Providence played a part

To be sure

But our choices are

What define us.

No smoky bar

Or mystic circumstance

Just she and me

Opposite sides of a dirty couch.

A choice we still

Make every day

When life is lovely

When life is ghastly.

Our couch is still stained

A reminder of our promises.

– Vagabond Prophet

Days of Candy

derelictdirigible:

We built castles

Out of corduroy overalls

And Popsicle sticks.

Our fingers sticky

And our knees grass-stained,

As we plotted adventures

In clouded shapes.

Our stuffed animals sat at attention

As a jury of peers,

While picture books were smudged

With jelly fingered smears.

Everything was new then

And the world seemed so giant.

Who would have guessed

That it was really quite small.

But in my mind it’s still

A great expanse.

Where days are longer,

And castles are built

Out of

Sidewalk chalk

And dandelion seeds.

-derelictdirigible

Love this.

Underneath

Madness can consume you,

Make you quake in the night,

Sadness can grip you

With all of its might.

Anxiety, depression

Spectres that may dare

To follow your steps,

Never playing fair.

If it twists your shape beyond

Anything I know,

Punching holes in the gunnels

No paddles left to row.

You sinking ship

You vessel capsizing,

I won’t be idle

Carefully strategizing.

I’ll dive headlong

Into that nameless place,

Searching for you

Looking for your face.

I’ll try to pull you out

Save your from its teeth

Yet if I can’t

If we’re stuck underneath.

That’d be alright

I’ll fall in love with every version

That insanity creates

Every stray thoughts stray excursion.

– Vagabond Prophet

True North

Like a ship graveyard

Where we sort through the rotten planks

To find the few good ones.

Together we may salvage

One seaworthy vessel

From the thousand capsized.

We all push off from shore

Without giving the land a last glance

We go past the breakers,

No map, just a promise.

A common faith

Of a country far away,

Something I’ve always known of.

It’s like the way the moon

Chases a Sun it’s never seen

Except for in dreams.

We all work the ropes

And steer the rudder

For the compass is etched

On all of our hearts.

– Vagabond Prophet

Malcontent

I haven’t been honest

Since the womb.

Lying about

Why I’m crying.

Not crying about being torn

From my home,

I cried for the world I was born into.

I heard her heartbeat,

Beating in time with her malcontent,

She didn’t even have to say it

I felt it in the blood she gave me.

The world is unsafe

And we’re made for the next one,

Just help some people get there

That’s what she told me.

– Vagabond Prophet

Anonymous

In a world where there’s no such thing as anonymous

Someone is always watching,

Where can we go to have a private conversation.

Where our words can wrestle each other

And when you come out on top

I’ll have a stupid grin

Because all I ever wanted

Was for you to pin me.

My back on the ground

With nothing left to give

But my devotion.

– Vagabond Prophet

Shoulders

Everyone has a cross to bare

But you didn’t make all shoulders the same did you?

Mine are broad for a child

And slim for a man

Do you know what I mean?

I just don’t want to be alone

The only thing to save me aches me

But I’ll be saved in the end

Without anymore nails too.

You did that for me,

You carried the world on your shoulders

Those expansive masts of strength

The sails in between

Filled with our sins

To sail through death

And come out the other side

Alive enough for all of us.

– Vagabond Prophet

Wolf Hunting

I heard a story once about people up north.

Where there’s long days and long winters

And the snow piles higher than houses.

They hunt wolves in winter,

Finding ways to do it safely.

Horrific and brilliant methods.

Take a knife and dip it in blood

Freeze the blood on the blade,

Do this over and over

Ten times over.

Until the blade is deep beneath a thick coat

A winter coat of deepest red.

Leave it in the open blade pointing up

Saluting the sky

Taking a bow before the grand performance

The great seduction of the beast.

Curiosity can be wonderful,

Curiosity can be devastating.

A hint on the wind

And the scent makes itself at home

Amongst happy memories

Eating dinner with family.

You come out of the trail

Seeing this tower of scarlet

Amidst this ocean of white,

You remember this shade of red.

It wasn’t the first lick that killed you

But it sealed your fate to be sure.

Those that live by the sword die by the sword

Those that thirst for blood drown in their own.

Niceties we say to excuse our guilt,

You never stood a chance against this trap

It looks like food

It smells like food

And it even tastes like food.

Your tongue swarms into every crevice

Made by the swirling vapours

Of your hot breath excited

Panting with desire and hunger.

You lick and lick and lick

And endless fountain of your favourite flavour

You denied yourself nothing.

The blood just kept coming,

First from the frozen blood

Thawed by your warmth,

But then it switched and you didn’t notice.

Did you?

Can’t pinpoint the second but sometime

Your tongue met the steel

Blood now spouting from many sources

And you swear it’s the best day you’ve ever had.

You died in a garden dyed crimson,

By the fleshy brush jutting forth

From your strong jaws

Bathed in your own paint.

I just listened to the story,

Dumbstruck.

I’ve never understood

A wild animal better than now,

I’ve been betrayed

By my longings too.

Curiosity can be wonderful,

Curiosity can be devastating.

– Vagabond Prophet