Blood Red
They asked me what blood type I have,
I said the type that bleeds
When you break the skin.
I found that out
When I broke the skin.
So go ahead take what you need,
It’s similarly red
And I’ll soon be dead.
– Vagabond Prophet
Tag: spilled prose
Caving In
You terrify and mortify
Got goose bumps on my skin,
You petrify and stupify
My heart comes caving in.
– Vagabond Prophet
Cheese
If even milk can die
And turn into something great
What does that say of me?
In my current state.
If fruit can perish
Turning into wine
Give strength to my gut,
But not straight off the vine.
Okay you’ve made it clear
I’ll undergo the transformation,
I’ll die and die again
Is this truly salvation?
– Vagabond Prophet
No Coffee
It was awful
Don’t know how this happened,
But it’s true every word.
I journeyed today,
Early in the morn
To a place of sweat and toil.
Still dark when I ventured,
Sky still peeling back
To reveal its splendour
I missed that too,
So my gaze is empty
Just as my cup.
I runneth over with emptiness
My veins don’t know what to do
For today there is no coffee.
– Vagabond Prophet
Running Late
Still in bed,
Clock says ‘late’
I’m running reds.
My tires squeal,
I forgot my coat,
And a meal.
Going to be a long day,
In spite of its late start,
In bed I wish to stay.
– Vagabond Prophet
Pretzels
My breath smells like pretzels.
Funny,
I don’t remember eating thirst.
– Vagabond Prophet
Scars, I have a few
Not a lot, just enough
To know they’re markers of pain,
Yet feel it no longer.
Like they’d had enough
And could fit no more
That part of me dead,
With resilience as a parting gift.
Vagabond Prophet
The sun comes over the hills, carving the entire skyline in an instant with artists precision.
Unreasonable faith says it will be the same as yesterday.
I believe it too.
Curiouser and curiouser.
Why should the past ensure the future?
All this wrestles uneasily, in my bones creating doubt.
Yet the sky remains the same.
Vagabond Prophet
Elijah
You said your son’s name is Elijah
And that regret brings you nostalgia,
There’s no way to dull the pain
And so you sleep under the rain.
– Vagabond Prophet
– For a homeless man I once knew.
Caving In
You terrify and mortify
Got goose bumps on my skin,
You petrify and stupify
My heart comes caving in.
– Vagabond Prophet
Vagabond Prophet 