Original Poetry about anything and everything.
Punish me brutally
Lock me up in shackles
Give me what I deserve.
All these years I’ve begged
Just to get what I’m owed
Only to realize
There is nothing worse.
Now learning my earnings
Are what you’ve saved me from
I’ll swear my allegiance
To your promise
That doesn’t fit on paper.
Who else has threatened death
With life
And won?
– Vagabond Prophet
Sloth, as defined by the poets dictioary.
Definition: To have one’s soul trapped in half set concrete. Wanting to move and able to move but the effort is beyond conception and eventually desire is too. Conforming to whatever mold you happen to find yourself in out of ease. Especially pernicious as being the most comfortable of the sins. Every tragedy, every dream, every ambition can be safely ignored with nothing more than a blanket and a pillow.
Other definitions include: Laziness.
A lack of interest in living.
To have had your blood swapped with a thick thick roux.
Some slip into it for a brief reprieve from calamity, and find themselves so sluggish that they can’t ever leave.
Antonyms: Vitality, energetic, productivity.
Slothfulness only seeks to ruin hearts by stagnation. To still the waters of your mind until they can nourish nothing at all and never feel another ripple at all no matter how one seeks to disturb them.
– Vagabond Prophet
Midnight snacks and joints that crack
The consequence of needs not flaunted.
Dreaming is hard when what you desire
Is beyond imagination.
In the meantime I keep
A dead bird in my pocket
Robin red breasted
Dressed to impress,
Imbue me with your majesty
So I can pretend at confidence
Until it’s not pretend.
Don’t be a mute canary
In the coalmine
Silent when we need your shrill chirp.
In death give me your sense for emergency
And a voice to match.
All these things and more I’ll do
Until I wake up by surprise
To find a new sunrise
Finding a world, no longer in disguise.
– Vagabond Prophet
– Thanks @josy57 for the prompt “a dead bird in my pocket”
Always have song present
The melodies of beauty to usher you
Through the monotony of life,
Crescendos to hold you through lows,
Melancholy sounds to remind you
In joy, that this is not yet home.
Music has lulled me
Invigorated this spirit,
Fortified my bones
When milk no longer could.
Harmonies even curlier than my hair
Have spun my heartbreak into epiphany.
Reminding that he speaks through all
If you only have ears to hear.
Always have song present
To comfort you when bothered
To bother you when comfortable.
The most beautiful sounds making sadness
Pulling tears from your eyes
To stretch into harp strings.
Always have song present
When you’ve canoes with no oars
And tusks with no boars
Rhythms yet unknown
Will guide your feet to safety.
– Vagabond Prophet
Stardust and comets tails
Solar winds fill heavens sails.
Blowing me
Across celestial sea.
The seven seas cast
Exactly upwards
To wet the fires
Of stars long gone cold.
Gentle hands so strong and pure
Kindling fires that must endure
To live long enough and die well enough
To inspire the likes of me.
Stardust and comets tails
Burning up so hot
Wearing destruction as a cape
Hurtling through infinite black
In search of an audience
For illumination.
I’m in the nosebleed seats,
Can’t bare to get any closer
But I’ll applaud loudly
And hope it carries as your light
Even in my death
Even as I burn up
Crossing forbidden barriers
To reach your heavenly ears.
– Vagabond Prophet
Ice coffee and gasoline
Two things I need tonight.
Locomotive power for a paralyzed mind.
Electrically sweet and combustible both
Give me strength to carry this yolk.If you see smoke in the distance
It’s likely me with pen and pad
Burning the candle at both ends
To have a double portion of wax
To use on a waning portion of myself.
Vagabond Prophet
Vapour falls so heavily
Starting streams of its own
Leaving trails on the rock
Carving stone over time.
Nobody knows if trails
Join back up
Or branch out on their own
Without following each one
To its greatest length.
Water most immeasurable
And beyond capacity
Both of comprehension
And containment.
– Vagabond Prophet
Nooks and crags
Hard and rough to the touch,
Stories hidden deep within
Somewhere between
The rings and the sap.
Hardest foundations
For the tenderest of shoots,
Finest green needles
Homes for nomads of the forest.
Towering over all
The only witness of history
And with tightest lips
You perform interpretive dance
With your roots underground,
Accomplices in beauty
Can’t help but join the show.
– Vagabond Prophet
Rushing in and out,
Twice a day everyday.
Highs and lows
In lofty throws.
Leaving lines on the rocks
Of past embraces
Felt a thousand times before,
Too be felt a thousand times more.
Predictably relentless,
Like taxes or red lights,
But much more real
With much more zeal.
No easy thing to resist
To shift your weight
From bottom to top
Full speed and full stop.
I’ll give my all to fight this squall
Resist a sea that plucks
Whenever it pleases
Tossing whitecap teases.
That’s just how it feels
Living here and believing
In stories great and true
Though some may say askew.
A world in love with authenticity
That’s somehow always fiction
It can feel so hollow
And unsated with each swallow.
This rhythmic pulsing of humanity
Blood pressure from disease untreated,
I know this cure
It’s simple and it’s pure.
I’ve never done drugs
Yet know what addiction is
I’ve been the man in sin
I’ve been lost in swamps within.
I have battled my own blood
Wrestled my own current
Distraught with its intent
To assimilate to a soul bent.
I have fought to untangle
My dreams from nightmares
To realize in deepest chagrin
The differences are thin.
If you want to walk against the tide
Of your broken nature clawing
I’ll show you the path
But first get rid of wrath.
When water starts rising
Up and past your navel
Find the one rivulet
Rebellious and immaculate.
The one teaspoon in an ocean
That when tide rushes up
It rushes down
With upside down frown.
Follow it abandoning all
Strip all that drags you down
Be cleansed by drowning the part
Of you that was dead from the start.
– Vagabond Prophet
Thanks @josy57 for the prompt “Against the Tide”
Pride, as defined by the poets dictionary.
Definition: Taxidermy of the soul, taking what is dead and setting it up as a trophy to be admired above all other living things.
Other definitions include: To paint a thick coat of most beautiful paint over what is clearly rotten wood, then boasting about your masterpiece.
Preferring night lights to star light, simply because they do what you tell them to.
To be so puffed up with air, you actually believe you’re strong until somebody comes along and pops you.
To take every offense so personally as though all ill intent was always aimed at you.
To have an inability to gaze into any surface not a mirror.
Antonyms include: Humility, empathy, caring for others, generosity.
Pride only seeks to convince itself it dwells above that which is common, deserving more while earning less. Such a heart can never know a higher power, such a heart can never admit need.
Vagabond Prophet 