Tag: spilled thoughts

That One Co-Worker

vagabondprophet:

You’re breath smells

Like ashes and regret,

I’d like to tell you what I think

You just might get upset.

You’ve always been

A bone of contention

Calling me out on things

Of your invention.

You’re like a pencil

With erasers at both ends

You’re words don’t get far

And my faith in you suspends.

Always needing help

Yet rarely any offered,

You’re the last in and first out

So yes I am a scoffer.

– Vagabond Prophet

-Wine

-Brownies

-Padlock

If you can guess why this was my shopping list today you can give me a prompt for a short story and I have to write it. 

P.S. I am confident this won’t happen, also terrified by the ridiculous possible prompts.

Empty Journals

I’m not righting

About the write things

It’ll take courage

I need to dig for.

Things inside covered

Under lock and key,

I got a glimpse last week

It nearly smothered me.

Strangled, driven to tears

By the sorrow in myself.

Key broke off in the lock

No going back now.

Maybe that’s why

I’ve many empty journals,

Pages waiting to give shape

To things I’m unwilling to admit.

Stagnant water feeds nothing

I’ll never grow like this,

I’ll age in a day

An unnaturally creased child.

So please grant me bravery

To look into the mirror

And see what’s really there

Smoke pouring from a closed off room.

– Vagabond Prophet

vagabondprophet:

Balsa Wood

If I could remake you

Out of balsa wood

Would I?

You’d be lighter

Yet strong,

Easily take flight.

The wind would push

Against your wings

And caress your face.

Ascension, descension,

Thrown by the carelessness

Of the air and the sky.

Letting every splinter

Alter your course,

Dancing on the map.

Would you even return,

Fight the current

To come back to me.

I see you in the flesh

And swear

You’re something better

Could I set you free?

Free of the land

And free of me.

Knots and imperfections

Same as now,

But you would fly.

You belong

High above me,

A distant speck.

I can’t make this choice

I’m selfish in my love,

What say You?

Wind filled wingspan?

Or me, simply me,

Pink tongue, white teeth.

I’ll be yours

To hold and kiss,

To wriggle against.

I know it’s a poor choice.

I’ve always ruffled

One too many feathers.

So which is it?

The clouds,

Cotton and dewy.

Or me, simply me

I’ll hold you close

And love you tenderly.

If you wish

I’ll remake you

Out of balsa wood

But know that if

The gale proves too much,

You may return to me

I’d make you safe again

Peeling back every ring

Of that lovely balsa wood.

– Vagabond Prophet

Lightening

Can we have sunshine yet?

To have your face

Shine upon me

So brightly I squint.

To illuminate the colours

And hues of everything,

Everything is grey

Until you shine your light.

While I do like the darkness

And stillness of night

Like we’re all alone together,

Some lightening would be nice.

– Vagabond Prophet

Evergreen

vagabondprophet:

Twisting and turning,

Sinews yearning.

For every rivulet.

Taking the hard way

Taking the easy way,

Whatever the heart desires.

Splitting stones asunder

To take its plunder.

Rich dark soil.

Fortifying Vessels

Nautical wrestles.

Carry me across the sea.

Winter might

Brutal white.

Sorting deciduous, evergreen.

Dieing yearly,

Rather queerly.

Just a little cold is all.

But evergreens don’t listen

To what the weather man has christened.

Fruitful all year long.

Hardy, immovable.

A truth that’s not removable.

That’s how I want to be.

Evergreen.

Never dead.

– Vagabond Prophet

Eden

vagabondprophet:


Your lips like ripened apples

So heavy with sweetness

Waiting to fall upon me.

Engulf me with your glistening sweetness,

That’s always baptizing my senses.

Your skin like lake water

When you kick up the bottom.

Murky swirling browns.

An opaque beauty in my arms,

Every night that we’re together.

Your eyes remind me of coffee.

Brown and lovely and warm,

Spiced and roasted to electrify me.

You captivate my thoughts,

And I will serve you always.

Your hair so long,

Like a rare black gold

I find it everywhere.

Like the rest of our home

Desires you as deeply as I do.

You’re the Garden of Eden,

Just for me.

– Vagabond Prophet