Tag: writerscreed

This mother died in childbirth
In the hopes of children
That may one day fly.

Though your body
Provides good ground for roots
One day they will tear them out
And soar above us all.

What could be a better
Picture of salvation?

Casting aside bark and personal gains,
To let the next generation
Grow right through the memory of you.

– Vagabond Prophet

Orange Glow

Tell time by the fire

By the licking of the flame

By the smouldering of embers.

Stirred from the ashes of yesterday

And still warm enough

For today’s beginning.

The orange glow at night

Echoing the orange glow of morning,

While at the same time

The dark of night is upheld

By twinkling distant lights,

For those nocturnal creatures

To hang their silhouettes.

It’s important to stay awake

Into the black hours

Where no city lights dare

Tarnish the sky with greasy fingers

To notice just how brightly coloured the night is.

– Vagabond Prophet

R.I.P.

One year ago today

You decided to go

Sometimes I’m in disbelief

I didn’t know

So we weep

With tears for you

As an ocean opens up

To swallow you

Gravity reversed, taking things away

While your demons on fear fed

Maybe thinking you’d find

a place for your head

Did you feel cold

And lost in desperation?  

When you were standing

in the wake of devastation

We wonder what you’d say

About this grief unraveled

Maybe ‘weep not

For roads untraveled’

In the wastelands of today

When there’s nothing left to lose

You showed us how to survive

That’s a truth not a ruse

No I don’t know

Why is everything so heavy

How much water is too much

For this splintering levee

You helped so many stay afloat

And keep climbing their ladder,

Wherever you are please know

In the end, it really did matter.

– Vagabond Prophet

– Rest In Peace Chester Bennington, we miss you.

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

Captain

This house will be full

Of heads needing rest

And mouths needing food.

Every bedroom window being

Fogged by steady breathing.

At the break of dawn

Seven souls will be stirred,

I’m the captain with an

Ever growing crew

And I need some wind at my back.

– Vagabond Prophet

Backtracking Majesty

I am arrested by love

Incarcerated by affection.

I once walked the withering sands alone,

Burning these pale soles black,

Sweat stinging these blue eyes shut.

I used to tread the coals of hot regret

Until I noticed some backtracking majesty.

I saw still morning lakes

Reflecting things much deeper

Than themselves.

Saplings with supporting rods,

Even twigs need a father

Something to grow in the shadow of

Learning not to turn all blooms

Away from but towards the sun.

That trees need no language,

Soil needs no tongue

They speak to each other

With yearning twisted fingers

And thrive upon the embrace.

The sun has no agenda

Yet the mountains bow

Before the glory every morn.

Rain that kisses the land

To lend a helping land

When the fields cry out

With dry lips and parched throats.

No paperwork, no formal requests

Only simple needs simply stated.

Every rockslide applause

For the sky it could never reach,

Every thunderstorm a parade,

Fireworks celebrating

The end of another drought.

Finally the people who dare to trust,

Loving and giving to people

Who can never pay them back.

Working fingers to the bone

To help others find a home,

In this world full of shadows

Finally shedding some light

By trusting and striking

Some matches on the rocks.

So yes I am not my own,

By love I am arrested

My deepest sins contested

And at times even jested,

That I would be such a fool

As to sojourn alone.

By grandeur so big it’s hard to see

I am swallowed whole

And spat back out a whole person,

With a whole soul

That is freely yet completely

Given to the one who soothed

My aching feet and breaking heart.

– Vagabond Prophet

Grip

Grip tightly to the bravery

Caught at brightest noon

When your form casts no darkness

Behind itself.

Grip tightly through

The long evening shadows

And the deep black of night

Until the sun boldly climbs the hills again.

– Vagabond Prophet

Wardrobe

Beware the song with steps danced slowly

With melody so sweet that each word

Eagerly leaps from your tongue,

Do not let beautiful mantras

Robe your mind with lies.

Beware the wolf with wardrobe full of deceit,

Having spent its days learning your itches

Content with scratching before biting,

Not all pleasures good

Many dipped in arsenic

For hunted animals,

In dead of winter of course

He calls you precious.

A caution for the new tenant

In the old house

Unaware of the boards that creak

To wake a sleeping beast,

Know where you are and be on guard,

Mindful that home is a place nobody has been.

Careful with the man who never plays pretend,

Never trying to be somebody better than he is

To make it fit by force, always at ease

With a spirit malnourished.

Traits so wonderful never fit naturally

But in time you can grow into them.

– Vagabond Prophet

Thanks @josy57 for prompting @mildreflections and I with “Hunted Animals.”

Hope folks like it.