Tag: writerscreed

Solitary Refinement Chapter 1

vagabondprophet:

Dearest Elizabeth                   June 18 2017

I hope you and the children are well. I miss you guys so much it’s painful. I still cannot believe I’m in prison. Convict, inmate, incarcerated, prisoner, criminal. I never ever thought that these words could be used to describe me.

It all sounds so fruitless to tell you now but it’s just like I said in court. I had been laid off from my job, more workers than they could afford once some of the investors pulled out of the contract. I didn’t want to come home from work early to tell you I had to look for work again, not again.

It was raining that day so I took the bus. When I was at the bus stop I was talking to a guy about how he hasn’t seen me at this time of day before because I just got fired. He was a big guy, broad shoulders, shaved head. He told me he owned a business and was actually looking for able bodied men who take directions well.

“I can do it! I’m your man, let me see it’s Friday today so I’ll get you a resume and references and meet you on Monday? Does that work for you?” I said to him.

“ That won’t be necessary, I trust your word. If you tell me you’re solid I’ll believe you. Just don’t let me down.” He replied.

That bastard! He was so friendly, so kind. You always said I was too trusting of people and I should have listened to you. What was I thinking! Getting hired at a bus stop without any kind of interview or anything. I should have smelled the bull shit right away but I couldn’t, all I could think was how I wouldn’t have to tell you I’d lost my job.

I was so happy. I’d been saved. After one day “working” with this man I find myself slammed in jail, the court, and now here. All so fast.

Day one he just told me that we were just picking up some cash from somebody who owed him on the way to the work site. So we pulled up to the back of this building and he told me to wait by the door with a bag. I just stood there waiting, totally oblivious they were robbing the place until alarms started ringing and cops showed up to cuff me. The bag I was holding had a gun in it I didn’t know about, the other guys had bolted out a different exit.

Now I have to listen to the people here drone on and on about things I really can’t care about. They keep talking about programs that they offer here. Education, skills training, that sort of thing. So many guys here haven’t even finished high school. For me though it all sounds so pointless. They keep reminding us to take our programs seriously as they prepare us for rehabilitation into society. I know how to live in society! I was real good at it too. I had a job, I paid taxes, I got educated. I was a construction worker for goodness sake I was the damn poster boy for responsible citizen. Working hard to support a family, rain or shine. Exercise in the evenings, cycling to work to reduce my carbon footprint. All the stuff these programs are supposed to prepare me for. Now I’m stuck here for five long years.

I can’t even pretend to care about how any of that matters. Right now all I can think of is how today is Father’s Day and I’m in prison. I’m going to end this letter now and go to the visiting area in case you guys decide to surprise me with a visit. It’s the only thought that’s gotten me through the day.

Sincerely,

Your Husband

Anonymous


In a world where there’s no such thing as anonymous

Someone is always watching,

Where can we go to have a private conversation.

Where our words can wrestle each other

And when you come out on top

I’ll have a stupid grin

Because all I ever wanted

Was for you to pin me.

My back on the ground

With nothing left to give

But my devotion.

– Vagabond Prophet

Shoulders


Everyone has a cross to bare

But you didn’t make all shoulders the same did you?

Mine are broad for a child

And slim for a man

Do you know what I mean?

I just don’t want to be alone

The only thing to save me aches me

But I’ll be saved in the end

Without anymore nails too.

You did that for me,

You carried the world on your shoulders

Those expansive masts of strength

The sails in between

Filled with our sins

To sail through death

And come out the other side

Alive enough for all of us.

– Vagabond Prophet

Peanut Butter

I was like a peanut

Stubbornly intact

When you started to cut me.

Then torn asunder

In an instant

Split wide open

Laid bare just for you.

Now you can do what you like

Making butter or milk

To have with your bread

I’ll be smoother than silk.

– Vagabond Prophet

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