“Bags under my eyes
Hammocks in disguise”— Vagabond Prophet
Tag: spilled ink
Hidden Wings
Let your blue eyes shine
Let our hands entwine
For I delight in you
And everything you do.
You who came from heaven
With hidden wings,
You better things
With the vigor of your stance
When you roar when you prance.
Though you give me trouble
You’ll shake the earth to rubble,
You’ll end things abrupt
That you see corrupt.
With every glittering smile
My heart jumps a mile
Jump and travel
The length of my stride
My girl you’ve embodied
All of my pride.
– Vagabond Prophet
For our girl on her birthday.
Reflections
Does the sea reflect the sky
Or the sky the sea?
For the water cool and still
They placid extract a pure blue.
Yet if they swell and spit
Should they whirlpool
I see black clouds enraged
Above my splitting gunnels.
If I survive my storm
And you weather yours
Should our eyes meet again
I’ll find love reflected in yours
On distant sandy shores.
– Vagabond Prophet

Shaken awake by sun rays
Piercing curtains piercing dreams
As the balloon pops to remind me
Life is on its way.
Rushing without sirens
Some emergencies announce themselves
When your stomach enters the room
Before your tongue.
Now in the recycled air
Of the bloodless lair
Where the sterile everything
Instructed my body
How to be itself.
All the faces went blank
When the pushing yielded little
And the little one turned.
Drapes pulled up
So I couldn’t see
Them cut into me,
Poorly upholstered tragedy.
I heard no cry for my breast
I saw no quivering lip,
Now screaming in his stead
I grabbed the knife and threatened
Them to uphold the life
I’d so carefully procured.
Code white bled into pink
And tiny black blankets
Wheel away my dreams.
Thoughts of different futures
Feel like pulling out sutures
From the scar that I still bare.
– Vagabond Prophet
– I heard over the intercom system a code white in the OR, and then right afterwards a code pink in the OR. There are only so many procedures with a conscious patient. This is what my brain did to fill in the gaps of my knowledge.
Televise
Gone are the days
Where groping in the dark
You’d find a dangling root
To pull yourself out
Of those churning waters.
You’ll find no part
Of me to cling to
You can choke and sputter
You can shriek and utter
Those desperate last gasps.
All the while arms crossed
Just waiting for that
Last bubble of life
To disturb the surface.
You were a natural predator
Already plucking the best parts of me
While I was yet lacing up my boots.
Things we’ll never agree on
What is good what is evil
What could bring me joy
What could leave me in ruins.
You brought the thinnest of smiles
To cover the broadest of lies,
The cataracts in my eyes
You put there I despise.
Knowing the power of words
I know yours mean nothing,
We once were close
And would walk towards disaster
Holding hands intertwined.
Now the hatred
The righteous rage
The resolution
To burn and cut your roots,
Now I’d televise my secrets
To get you just a little
Further away from me.
Though I have adorned
Your treachery with poetry
Don’t mistake it for forgiveness.
– Vagabond Prophet
“What we’ll never agree on”, the wonderful prompt given me by @josy57. Thanks pal!
Open Maws
With the urgency of
A green light turning red
I steal away to this desk.
This pen a knife
Carves into my sleep,
A peculiar creature is me
That my ideal starting point is this.
All the classic tales
Of girls in cloaks
Of wolves in night gowns
Taught me nothing,
I had to learn for myself.
If I couldn’t write
I’d be plunged into night.
I have to sharpen my own claws
And cut my own teeth
It is the hour I face my wolf
And we both have open maws.
– Vagabond Prophet
Spilled Coffee
I’ll let my coffee spill
As I walk the green mile.
Left right,
Left right.
Sloshing to and fro,
I was here
I was there.
Just leave it.
Don’t mop it up,
It’s all that’s left of me,
A reminder of life
Spilling it’s banks
– Vagabond Prophet
Gasoline
The yawning chasm
The muscle spasm
The heavy eyelids
That cry for more unrest.
There aren’t enough hours
For me to complete towers
I began many moons ago
Though I work the mortar daily.
I’m a stardust child clean
Now laced with gasoline
Strike a match
Watch chemicals react
See me explode
This heart barely intact.
– Vagabond Prophet
These dark mornings
Where I see my breath
Before the sun remind me
To always carry light.
Vagabond Prophet