Original Poetry about anything and everything.
He’d painstakingly inched along
From his room, in a wheelchair
So slowly that with each rotation
The world made a rotation on its axis,
He made glaciers look swift.
He was so very old
That time had made knots in his mind,
And knit wrinkles in his spine.
He sat in front
Of that silver machine
And asked me
“How do I get ice out of here?”
Honesty is the best policy,
Or so I’ve been told
So I plainly told him,
“Sir, that’s a blanket warmer.”
– Vagabond Prophet
You ever meet someone so talkative that they didn’t even realize that you were mute until years later?
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
I woke up next to her again
To that blooming goddess
Of warmth and beauty.
I woke up to the joyful squeals
Of two healthy children
Just happy for another day.
My hearing degrades
With each new frequency
My daughters voice discovers,
Fearlessly trailblazing
The uncharted waters of sound.
My mind is blown by the fact
That my son of five
Is imagining stories far beyond me,
A natural storyteller.
I have everything I need.
Some days I’m plagued with worry
Doubt and cynicism.
But today,
Today is good.
– Vagabond Prophet
They don’t tell you
The further down you go
The worse the chance
Of your coming back.
The top is just white collars,
The middle chemotherapy
But the bottom
Oh the bottom.
That’s for the radiation patients,
Level Zero
It’s even underground,
I guess to get them used to it.
– Vagabond Prophet
Green haired girls and moths on board. Octogenarians and vegetarians,
What an eclectic mix of commuters this morning.
Walking through a hospital parking lot
Perfect white lines outside an imperfect building.
Mercedes to my left
Rusty van to my right.
All that separation
Dissolves on the threshold
When you peruse the catalogue
Of dying people inside.
Your wife,
His sister,
You both drove here
To weep over loved ones.
If the vehicle doesn’t matter
If your class doesn’t matter
If grief is level ground
Then can we all be family?
– Vagabond Prophet
You’re lovely and kind
Your movements sublime
Like the tide
Making everything around you rise and fall.
Can I be the foam on your waves?
Shaped by your motion
Accenting your dance
With my excitement to just be near you.
– Vagabond Prophet
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
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
Vagabond Prophet 