Tag: spilled prose

When Kids are in Trouble and Dad is a Writer

You have disobeyed

And this is what you’ve wrought

You shall feel

The full weight of my wrath.

I have sojourned here

At speeds illegal

I am pregnant with displeasure

At your little mutiny.

Thought to stage a coup?

How cute.

Your maliciousness inherited

Diluted, inexperienced.

I’ve reduced men to tears

With naught but words,

Now they’re pointing at you

What say you!?

I’ve shattered souls

With a lonely syllable.

This little rebellion of yours,

Adorable.

In me that blood

Is at full strength

Seething, writhing, searching,

I reign it in always.

But not today

For you have incurred

The full arsenal

Of my fury.

When you’re older

We’ll rebel together

Against forces unjust,

But today thou shalt suffer.

You will scrub and sweep

You will repent

You miscreant you,

You will beg for rest before days end.

I love you so

And this is how

I show it today,

To insure tomorrow is different.

– Vagabond Prophet

@delightfulharmonypoetry

Model Cars

Monday nights were for building model cars

Showing me how paint thinner

Thins even skin

Effortlessly.

My favourite number, yours

My favourite music, yours

My favourite colour, yours

So much that is me was you.

Then you left,

So I guess that’s what family does

First our father

Then my brothers.

Now I’m here,

Leaky gutters

And a leaky mind

And a sister and a mom.

I didn’t know how

To knit any of it

Back together,

All my teachers vanished.

– Vagabond Prophet

Ode

If I could beat a drum

By just thinking

I’d be marching to a different beat.

And if I could sound off a riff

Just by skipping a step

I’d solo down the street.

If I could hum

And have cellos sing

I’d waltz everywhere.

Then I met you,

Like instruments unknown

Your sound and presence baffling.

Beyond imagination

Or composition of will,

Ode to Heaven itself.

– Vagabond Prophet

Miracles

On our wedding day

I’d never felt taller

Maybe I just needed

A rooftop to scream off of.

Towering over everybody

Taking you by the hand,

We left as quick as possible

Tires kicking up dirt.

You still wear that dress today

And I think that’s wonderful,

I’d say you were never prettier

But I’d be lying.

You’re most beautiful

When you scowl at the sun,

For interrupting sleep

And cutting dreams short.

I’m just glad

That when the sun does rise

That you’re there at all

I really don’t get it.

You chose this

You chose me,

My body underwhelming

At the very best.

My mind plagued

With beasts and thistles,

And my soul

Struggling to float.

I’m like the arms

In a three legged race

Flailing

Most unhelpful.

But I said

I do

And

So did you.

Miracles really do happen.

– Vagabond Prophet

Focus

vagabondprophet:

Madness can be comfortable,

Like a sleeping bag

On a snowy day.

Just shut it out

Focus on warmth.

Sadness can be tolerable,

When everybody leaves you

And you can finally get some sleep.

Just shut it out

Focus on warmth.

Betrayal can be manageable,

If you betray yourself too,

It’s no different.

Just shut it out

Focus on warmth.

Then that all changed

I got locked up.

Psychiatry Ward.

More like circus

For people who

Just couldn’t handle any more.

Insisting on the existence

Of Neverland or something like it

And always being denied.

Every levee breaks

And every tower shakes,

Just ask the princess.

She’s in room 11B

Says her name is “Lady Hopscotch”

Her tower dropped her to the ground.

So when I got locked up,

Seeing walls of white like snow

I tore my bed apart

And crawled inside my mattress.

Just shut it out,

Focus on warmth.

– Vagabond Prophet