Tag: winter

Waxless Candles

The wind half sighs half moans

The struggle that is

Its passage through the night.

The calm before the storm

Never came for them

Only the wind

Only the waves

Only the rain.

Like waxless candles

They burn bright

And getting hotter

Through the darkling night.

Until the night is over

And their wick is all turned to ash

Hoping the deeds that they’ll forget

Will be rekindled at next dusk.

They end up forgotten

They end up refused

Forsaken and misused.

Knowing only the hard pavement

For a pillow in this November,

Nothing as bright or as chilling

As the winter sun

Shining boldly yet coldly

In a brilliant and frigid embrace.

The windows frost

And their breath exhausts

Caught, taken it is

By the unforgiving cold.

Like Icarus they collide and burn

With their hopes for themselves.

Meanwhile they all wonder,

“How can I be healthy,

When every doctors definition differs.”

– Vagabond Prophet

Frigid

vagabondprophet:

The wind bites my face

And I know that’s your embrace

But it hurts,

Must you be so cold?

I make a hot cup of something

See I’ve got an answer for everything,

As usual I’m either too smart

Or too dumb.

I don’t even know which

It changes like a switch,

So let the wind bite my face

And make my legs go numb.

Let me stay stranded in the cold

No choice but to be bold,

When I’m captured by your might

Captivated by frightful beauty.

Make your frosty tongue

Climb every rung

And run piercing

Through every passageway.

Don’t give me a way out

Don’t make it a fair bout,

Call me to yourself

Grip me firmly.

Take me in your hand

Put on me your brand

Enchant me with

Your frigid brilliance.

– Vagabond Prophet

Sensory Journey Through Winter

Close your eyes and count to three

Feel these words float down to thee

Breath in deep until it wounds,

Air so frigid as to stab.

Keep your eyes shut

You’ll feel the air but

It won’t be your friend

You’ll have to defend.

The frost it will bite

Regardless of might

Once your sweat reverses

Keeping all bad things inside.

Like your hot breath

Before a cold death

Forming clouds to swirl

Into the sky dancing.

You’ll smell it on the wind

A promise of every sapling skinned

The scent unmistakable

Of impending frozen descent.

Shavings of ice

Malformed but still nice

Descending so slowly

As though afraid to land.

Look across the land

To frozen and frictionless sand

See the horizon bleed into sky

And be unable to find the seam.

Know the boundaries of yourself

Stacked upon a shelf

Separated so obviously,

Body so warm next to world so cold.

Observe homes in hibernation

And others in annihilation

When for so long so much is dead

Find the strong few, who stubbornly live on.

Close your eyes once more

And hear a global snore

Feel branches getting thick

Beneath blankets that only chill.

Now open and be entertained

See the shaking clouds dust ordained

To smite for a time unchallenged

And just see if you can hold back a smile.

Now if you can’t restrain

It’s okay don’t refrain

Just know your lips may split

Bringing a solitary drop of colour

To a painting of purest white.

– Vagabond Prophet

 @mildreflections I hope this is a satisfactory mind picture of what winter is here.

Wolf Hunting

I heard a story once about people up north.

Where there’s long days and long winters

And the snow piles higher than houses.

They hunt wolves in winter,

Finding ways to do it safely.

Horrific and brilliant methods.

Take a knife and dip it in blood

Freeze the blood on the blade,

Do this over and over

Ten times over.

Until the blade is deep beneath a thick coat

A winter coat of deepest red.

Leave it in the open blade pointing up

Saluting the sky

Taking a bow before the grand performance

The great seduction of the beast.

Curiosity can be wonderful,

Curiosity can be devastating.

A hint on the wind

And the scent makes itself at home

Amongst happy memories

Eating dinner with family.

You come out of the trail

Seeing this tower of scarlet

Amidst this ocean of white,

You remember this shade of red.

It wasn’t the first lick that killed you

But it sealed your fate to be sure.

Those that live by the sword die by the sword

Those that thirst for blood drown in their own.

Niceties we say to excuse our guilt,

You never stood a chance against this trap

It looks like food

It smells like food

And it even tastes like food.

Your tongue swarms into every crevice

Made by the swirling vapours

Of your hot breath excited

Panting with desire and hunger.

You lick and lick and lick

And endless fountain of your favourite flavour

You denied yourself nothing.

The blood just kept coming,

First from the frozen blood

Thawed by your warmth,

But then it switched and you didn’t notice.

Did you?

Can’t pinpoint the second but sometime

Your tongue met the steel

Blood now spouting from many sources

And you swear it’s the best day you’ve ever had.

You died in a garden dyed crimson,

By the fleshy brush jutting forth

From your strong jaws

Bathed in your own paint.

I just listened to the story,

Dumbstruck.

I’ve never understood

A wild animal better than now,

I’ve been betrayed

By my longings too.

Curiosity can be wonderful,

Curiosity can be devastating.

– Vagabond Prophet

Snow


Yesterday was rain

With polkadot asphalt,

The wind made a current

Sky turned white

And slowly descended.

Today is different

Frosty little tidbits

Floating down to earth.

Earth shivers at its touch

Just like a first kiss.

Liquid becomes solid

At the gentleness

Of your touch.

And you say to me,

“I colour the ground,

To remind you I’m around.”

– Vagabond Prophet