Tag: writers on tumblr

Blue Rose

vagabondprophet:

First date I brought you a blue rose

You said nobody had ever given you one before.

A blue rose?

No.

A flower.

I couldn’t believe it,

You, my pride and joy

My flower everblooming.

I’ll spend my days being your soil,

Pruning bits that

Hinder growth.

It’ll be different for our daughter.

I’ll see to it.

One day a boy will knock for her,

Baring a flower in his hands.

Our daughter will say,

“That’s it, just one?,

Thanks but no thanks

I’ll stick with my daddy,

He knows I’m worth much more.”

– Vagabond Prophet

@delightfulharmonypoetry

Back to Pulp

vagabondprophet:


Pfft tss Pfft tss tss

Pfft tss Khh Pfft tss Khh

Beatboxing onto paper,

Ink instead of sticks

Pages instead of cymbals.

A drummer with no skins to beat

So I’ll beat the paper back to pulp

And shape it into sticks

Just you wait and see.

Bmm Bmm bmmmm 

Sts bsst bsst bmphh.

– Vagabond Prophet

HOV Lane

vagabondprophet:


If you’re the kind of person

With enough baggage to use

The carpool lane alone

You’re not alone.

Want somebody to ride with?

We’ll get more smiles per hour,

We’ll kill the suspension shortly

With the weight of it all.

Do you care?

I don’t,

When the car breaks down

Leave the baggage in the trunk

Keep on walking and watch it all burn.

– Vagabond Prophet

Can boldness be regrown?

Dousing dreams in gasoline.

Can I have all the strength of attack

And all the safety of defence?

Or was the armistice

Only ever meant

To leave me disarmed.

Can one have faith

Without first having doubt?

Could I have roots with depth

Beyond my own

Grafted to this timid trunk

To make a steady

Yet brave hero?

Oh let it be true

That this and more

Will come to pass,

A day where the world rests

Squarely on my shoulders

And sits there comfortably

For I’ve been imbued

With your might.

– Vagabond Prophet

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

Let’s get burned
Let’s get frozen
Let’s be rabbit trails
Long grown over.

Transformed into fire by
The licking of the flame,
Isolated into ice
By frost that aims to mame.

Roots pierce through
This stony heart
All to begin anew.

Allow the elements not to defeat you
But to become you for a purpose
That was always above us all.

Vagabond Prophet

What goes up must come down,
Are we so sure?
The world has never been that balanced
Always heavy at the blade.

It’s true that for every child
Born with a silver spoon
There is a child born
With silver handcuffs,
But not all things come down.

Such as my hopes
Of growing old with you
They are way up high
And won’t be coming down soon.

Vagabond Prophet

@delightfulharmonypoetry

Real Rainbow

I’ve known anger burning red

And despair oh so blue,

Envy green and cowardice yellow.

I’ve had my countenance turn black

Under a sky of grey

A real rainbow of disdain.

I am not lazy or sloth like as of late,

Come here touch my brow

And feel the residue of my toil

That brings me naught but rot.

Until you came into my life

Breaking dams that held nothing in only out

Flooding dry lake beds

And sprouting gardens where there was dust.

Because of your works not mine

I can call myself justified in time,

A second hand treasure

Better than anything wrought

By these calloused hands.

You can still feel the sweat on my body

See it drip onto a brown soil

Watch me work a land green and budding

See the sun set red

And rise brightest yellow.

I can push off into a vast blue sea

And not care if I sail or get swallowed

For both is to be loved.

You’ve carried me in your shadow of light

Through the deepest blacks

Protected by your majesty

Into a brand new country

With brand new colours

A real rainbow of joy.

– Vagabond Prophet

Thanks @josy57 for prompting me with “Second Hand Treasures.”