Tag: spilled prose

Thirty Two

Thirty Two years old

And he’s really gone.

Body beautifully adorned

And underground.

What now life?

What will you do now?

Will you strike me down

Or make me endure this?

Future I can’t see

Evasive and ever changing,

The past never changes

But tortures every moment.

The present sharpens

And blunts me

In equal measure,

Useless for every task at hand.

How will I scrape

Out an existence,

If grief sands me down

To a featureless stone.

Blunt and sharp in equal measure,

Useless for every task at hand.

– Vagabond Prophet

vagabondprophet:

Sleight of Hand

There’s a lot of broken people

Across the sea,

But there’s a lot broken people here too

You don’t have to go

across the sea

To be useful to me.

Don’t wait for a sign

No water divine

It’s as simple as a coat

For a shivering man

There’s no secret trick

No sleight of hand

Just a bit of bread

For an outstretched hand

All your brilliance and might

Can not win this fight

You just have to do something right

A rickety shack could he everything

To a man without a home

An old blanket could be everything

To a child with nothing but a stone

Don’t wait for a sign

No water divine

It’s as simple as a coat

For a shivering man

There’s no secret trick

No sleight of hand

Just a bit of bread

For an outstretched hand

– Vagabond Prophet

– Another song folks, let me know if you like the songs and should keep them coming.

Cleft Heart

vagabondprophet:


Early October when the bomb went off,

Tearing us apart.

A brother here, a sister there.

Scattered across the globe.

Like the shock had made

Roots suddenly disappear.

Wandering to find them again.

Something to anchor me to life,

And something to pretend

That none of this ever happened.

It was like walking under a tree

Green burning bright

Like a star in the night.

Until it drops its snow

Right down your back

And your spine inverts itself.

The snow no colder than

The snowball fight earlier.

But never expected.

I never expected any of this

I trusted you,

I loved you.

But after you left,

We didn’t talk for months.

You didn’t understand that.

How could you think,

Nothing would change between us?

When you tore my heart right out.

I was a child,

Not a liver,

I’m not that resilient!

Are you stupid?

Or can you just think

That wishfully?

Couldn’t you have thought wishfully,

About her too?

Build her up in your mind.

Something better than she was,

Instead of leaving me all alone with her,

The only boy around.

We were six!

Then just three,

Only boy was me.

Brothers dug for oil,

Money for their toil.

We all got new family.

Pretend it’s normal

This prefix ‘step’ for everybody.

A monosyllabic word for ignorance.

Did you have stinging nettles

In the corners of your mind,

Shrouding your secrets from yourself?

I didn’t know what a man was!

How could I instantly become?

I guess you didn’t know either.

I found a new father,

He’s never let me down.

He’s unshakable.

Yeah we talk now,

About the weather,

And the price of gas.

But it will never be the same,

I can’t think that wishfully.

I won’t struggle to get as close.

You used to hold me close,

Just to be near me,

I treasure the memory.

It was twelve years ago you left,

Twelve years with a cleft heart.

When you changed the definition of home.

I’m trying to be eloquent now,

But all I can think of,

Is just how much it hurt.

– Vagabond Prophet

Go To Sleep

I watched you enter the world

I helped you learn to walk,

Timing your hair growth

And listening to you talk.

You love to dance and spin,

You love to bounce and giggle,

And when I give you paper

With a pen you like to squiggle.

The weariness

I know I’ll miss,

The exhaustion

Of pure bliss.

But right now darling

Take your beautiful head,

Lay it down to sleep

It is time for bed.

You vacuum of my patience

You pixie with such charm,

Don’t come out of bed

Or I will sound the alarm.

With the fury of

A thousand suns,

I’ll keep you in there

With blankets by the tonnes.

You beg for things

That you don’t even want,

In the evening hours

You taunt taunt taunt!

You know I love you

Honey, girl of mine,

But right now I just need you

To

GO

TO

SLEEP!!!

– Vagabond Prophet

Harmony


I need more music

I’ve got rhythm in my veins

And a heart that pumps

Not blood but a beat.

To create something

To be consumed by the ears,

To bring into life

Meaningful sound.

My heart beats

In polyrhythms,

And my feet journey

To find the melody.

So you be the woodwinds

And I’ll be the strings,

I’ll learn you first by ear,

And then by heart.

– Vagabond Prophet

Solitary Refinement Chapter 25

Dear Joshua                                          April 3rd 2018

Hey Josh, I think I’m ready to talk to you again I just need to set something straight. Don’t talk bad about my wife. I get it, you see your friend being treated badly by his own wife and you want to say something about it and from your position I can see how you can see it’s not a ridiculous thing to wonder about. I just, I know she wouldn’t do that. If I let my mind wander that way I know that I’ll go crazy. I can’t take it to lose the hope of having my family back again one day.

    So I got confirmation that I’m definitely not overreacting by being freaked out by Kal, just the other day I saw one of the guards that I hadn’t seen in a long time tell me he’d be worried if he was me. He said Kal’s cellmates never last this long and that Kal must be getting frustrated, said to be careful and watch my back. It seems as though the guards can’t do anything about behaviour like Kal’s though, until he actually does something to me and I make an official complaint they can’t move me or him or anything like that. How wonderful it is to have my fears confirmed and then be told that there is no solution available to me. I’m so freaking done, every morning I look in the mirror and I see a frightened pair of eyes in a weary body.

    When I’m not working in the kitchen I’ve been in the library here, I just realized they had one recently. I used to like reading as a kid but as an adult after work and playing with the kids I always felt too tired to read and would fall asleep shortly after ever picking a book up. Now since I can barely sleep anyways I am actually able to read again. They have a few poetry books that I am enjoying, reading over and over as much as I can in the few minutes I have to spare. I love novels, but poetry is different. I’m learning lots of new words from them that I have to look up in the dictionary. It’s just so interesting that the pain and suffering of these poets chose to manifest itself in such beautiful ways. It helps me feel even though I’m going through this terrible season in my life, it can maybe just maybe mean something to somebody.

Just What We Do

Well never stop

As long as theirs bones to break

And lives to take.

As long as we pump blood

Well take yours

And use it to paint our houses

Use it to dress our spouses.

As long as  theirs smiles

I’ll turn them to frowns

For miles and miles

Dreams turned upside down.

I’ll take all your hope and put it on a rope

Saying go climb to the top

And then I give it a chop

To watch you dangle and dance

It’s not planned just happenstance.

Misery is the next stop

And the drivers never late

Rain snow or sleet

He will never abate.

It’s just what we do

And we like it too

See who can bleed the most

Of someone else’s blood.

– Vagabond Prophet

– I think this is a song too, it’s just hiding it’s melody from me right now.

Pell-mell

The current it sucks

All my fervor it plucks

And down it throws

To Davie jones.

But my love for you

And all that you do

Will never grow old

Forgotten or cold.

Your grin from ear to ear

Your unstoppable cheer

Your hair it fell

All messy and Pell-mell.

I quite like your voice

Saying I’m your choice

Insistent you are not deigning

Yourself to a man that is waning.

– Vagabond Prophet