Tag: spilled words

Under the Weather

Under the weather

Above the soil

Where else could I be?

Unable to soar above

Subject to the way the sky

Indecisively swings on hinges

Like alcoholic binges.

The staccato of a door

Urgently tapped upon

When hail falls on my roof

Reminding me of what I’m beneath.

It’s okay it won’t always be that way.

– Vagabond Prophet

Thanks @josy57 for prompting me with “under the weather.”

7 Years

Seven years ago we

Braided our lives together,

I’ve never felt taller

Than I did that day.

My shoes red

Your shoes yellow

Dancing they turned orange.

Orange like sunset

On the days of scorn from others,

Trying to bring clouds

To a sunny day.

Orange like sunrise

On the best chapter of my life.

– Vagabond Prophet

@delightfulharmonypoetry

vagabondprophet:

Insurance

I am the .1 percent

Can’t be disinfected

I’m the tsunami

That can’t be detected

And for the house fire

That can’t be expected

They say insurance,

Get insurance

But insurance is just paper

You scribbled all over

Saying you’ll get money

When your world is over

Money’s just paper

And paper starts fires

This just complicates

And stirs in me a fire

So now you understand

I hope it’s all clear

If you lose everything

That you hold dear

Your paper won’t help you

I won’t be held liable

When I take your life

Like something easily pliable

Because I’m

About

to snap.

Bad Part of Town

vagabondprophet:

They call this

The ‘bad’ part of town

The part with the foodbank

And the building for supervised visits.

Families separated

Estranged by circumstance,

Needy, not bad

Desperate not volatile.

I’ll tell you about

The bad part of town,

It’s up on the hill

It’s all chrome and glass.

Throwing food away

Every single day

Ignoring their children

Who just want to play.

– Vagabond Prophet

vagabondprophet:

Disarmed

You were armed to the teeth

With something underneath

Disarmed by my smile

That goofy grin not yet yellow,

You ran away for miles

Losing your shoes in the mire.

Years later it was your turn

I was disarmed by your beauty,

But I ran to you not away

For yours is a beauty that beckoned me

Closer and closer still

Until nothing between us but time,

Time to let our love perfect,

Sweetening and intoxicating as

Years go by.

– Vagabond Prophet

Flat Earth

Dipped in water and then oil

Not knowing how to mix with myself.

Sometimes you have to re-break the bone

To get it set right.

Wide asleep

When the vines that creep

Pull me under,

I hear beasts within and without,

I hear claws upon the door

At most unholy hours.

I am the peacock with need so dire

To prove itself just once,

I am the rhinoceros with steepest spire

Upon my face betraying lies.

I am the tiger saying its for camouflage

But it was always about ego,

Nobody else has this colour scheme.

Here’s the truth that chills in July:

If we spoke before The Tower of Babel

We might understand each other,

However in this post Babel era

I only mix the shadows of words together

Rendering the truest shade of grey.

I miss the days of old

When the earth was flat,

Stars on the same level.

When I could run full speed

And have flames engulf my need

Stripping off the laquer

The feathers, the horns, the stripes.

The earth is round, but slowly

You’re bending it back

Back to how it was,

Running gets easier as the slope

Promises to lessen in time,

And though I’m dumbfounded

I’m finally finding sanctuary.

– Vagabond Prophet

Thanks @josy57 for the prompt “Finding Sanctuary” I hope this makes some kind of sense.

Countenance

In the countenance of today

There’s no smallest measure

Of reprieve or leisure.

The thread between

My thoughts and reactions

Growing taut from lengthening distance.

Dangling from the precipice

Which separates simple exhaustion

From madness.

People ask me

Why do I do this?

Why do I clutch to sleep deprivation

And reject  wakefulness, rest,

And energy honestly come by.

I say to be creative is risky,

But to abstain is more so.

– Vagabond Prophet