thevagabondking: Favorites

Apr 2013 thevagabondking

brooke

do you think that
the reason we move
along is because we
have learned all
that there is to
learn about
that person
and that
the people
who we end up
with are the ones
we never stop every day
the sun catches the reds
the browns, the golden
hues in their hair and
we say, I have not
truly known you,
yet.

(c) Brooke Otto

Apr 2013 thevagabondking

viscous ugly slips

Apr 2013 thevagabondking

Claire Waters

viscous ugly slips

I feel very weird today. everything feels foreign to me, like military time and gun powder. animals staring at boys with scared eyes. the uneasy silence of blood stained sidewalks, the airplanes, the buses, the trash cans. the cameras. the police that flooded the scene as the hatred split the glass windows into a million flying swords. a million fighter jets. the city is a rat trap, I curl up on the floor of my room and listen to the police radio feed, heart knocking in tune to the white noise between more news. i said it over and over. the economy is sinking, your face is something I think of as a whole different place. I keep grasping at the tendons, and the threads. such a messy job. i wish I could be one of those people who did everything right the first time. if you don’t recognize yourself no one will recognize you. the hurt, and the ***, and the dark nights riddled with chinese paper lamps. and the feeling of something ugly growing tumors in the sewers. you say only two people died. but who will die tomorrow. who will shrink into history books. how many cities will burn, how many libraries will burn, who will burn. someone is going to burn, the air tastes like charred cities. the panic. you. I keep wishing to be strong but I don’t think it works like that. I don’t need love, but I really do.

Apr 2013 thevagabondking

Her tobacco smelling kiss, a killer

Apr 2013 thevagabondking

K Balachandran

Her tobacco smelling kiss, a killer

Her tobacco smeared luscious lips,
gave him a long deep kiss,
the statutory warning came true,
a killer, no doubt.

Apr 2013 thevagabondking

My name is Memory

Apr 2013 thevagabondking

Lacus Crystalthorn

My name is Memory

The smell of ink and abandonment lingered in the air as I stepped inside the room we had scarred. Dust has found a home at last - a place where all your faults were accepted and my hope was never questioned. This is where we hold our entire world. This is where each second lasts everlastingly. This is where forever lives.

Tissues slept on the floor like confetti for my return mixed with crippled promises you have dropped and forgotten.The bedsheet lay awake, exhausted, weary, heaving the sigh you exhaled in a lock room - the smell of your desire, of my frustration, of our longing, of my name. I wonder if they had kept your heartbeat. I wonder if I could have it back.

I wonder if I could have you back.

The silence had preserved every single thing you have uttered - every word a bar, each sentence another lock. Your voice hanged themselves on the cobwebs, the cobwebs had consumed the space and you had filled me with wishes, longing and regrets. I have never expected you to say hello again. I certainly never shall. You never did. You never will.

We slept in our mask and redressed in denial.

Forever is still etched on the atmosphere. I can feel you touching the small of my back, paving your way through my spine, reaching your way to where the burnt maps, love letters, crumpled clothes and drawn out nights were. I can feel you possessing my nape. I can hear you whispering my name. I can see you piercing the night. Why do always you have to be so wonderful?

The scars you have etched on my skin breathe like stars on the pillows you have wounded. They glowed longingly for that smell of yours they’re acquianted with. They stood beyond eternity. The inteminable look in your eyes before you sleep had tampered the wallpapers - the audience of those nights we own, when everything was forgotten, including the world. The story of what if and what could have been filled the space between us - never allowing my arms to cling around your neck, never wanting you to kiss my ear, shielding you to find us on the swell between my *******.

The clock had stopped working.

At least it won’t steal my time.

Maybe I can sleep tonight.

Maybe we can be infinite.

~Lacus Crystalthorn, 2012

Apr 2013 thevagabondking

Yes

Apr 2013 thevagabondking

Kaleigh Vaughn

Yes

There's some nights like these

When I can't resist the thought

Of your lips pressed against my cheeks

And your fingers dancing across the new ******* I bought

Apr 2013 thevagabondking

first love

Apr 2013 thevagabondking

david badgerow

first love

i remember that night on your front steps
smoking cigarettes and talking with your mother
while
i cradled your heart and
you cried on my chest

i remember middle school english class
and your first thong,
pink and white and blue

i remember we made that bourbon summer
last until december

i remember bottle rockets and champagne
the morning your brother died

i remember carrying you home
in the rain
the day after you escaped from the hospital
and you cried then, too.

i remember lying on the cold ***** tile
of your mother's kitchen
whispering Neruda in your ear
shivering & sweating with you
that night we took ecstasy

i remember the first night
you let me slip an honest prayer between your lips

Apr 2013 thevagabondking

Imperfect Paridise

Apr 2013 thevagabondking

Chuck

Imperfect Paridise

I
aspire
to
float
to
welcome
lands
flawed
perfectly,
home

Apr 2013 thevagabondking

my city

Apr 2013 thevagabondking

Cali

my city

in a city that breeds hooligans
ingrates and indecencies,
where the architecture of a lost era
crumbles into brothels and madhouses,
where shootings peak
with the heat of summer,
where new windows are boarded up daily
and we chop down trees like fanatics,
in the city I call home,
in the city I love,
destroyed by its ignorance,
I am condemned to silent pleas
and empty stares.