Vagabond Voices
Published in

Vagabond Voices

Prose Poetry


The Original Island Dwellers

Photo by Unknown Wong on Unsplash

Hunter scavengers playing roadside
Or observing from fauna who were here
Before human arrival
On a peaceful island now
Finding itself full of noise and litter
By those with no mindful insight.

These small creatures
Adorable to most will bite that hand
That feeds them given a chance,
After all, intruders we are so
We will get what we deserve.

Rummaging through our bags
Of filthy waste for their easy catch
As the land has now been taken over,
Leaving them with little from
What was once a home of plenty.

Climbing down the jagged rock face
We can not,
Jumping from tree to tree
Branches bend and bow
With a strange grace
Never to snap under the weight
Of the little acrobat,
That little acrobat with set mind and goal
To grab your bag and take what little
Food you have inside,
Ripping apart the plastic you use
To litter their once clean island
And munch upon your acquired delight.

Dare to throw a stick or stone
You will be met with anger from this little ball
Of might, you better run into the sea
No! not up into a tree!
If this monkey grabs you and sinks in its teeth
The pain of your wallet will be as sharp
As the pain now within your body.

I’m not a fan of these little creatures
They will not find a friend in me
I will not feed them, will not pet them,
I will also not litter the island
This island is their home.

Thank you for reading. J.



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James G Brennan

James G Brennan


Writes eclectic free verse poetry and is free to read. "Everything in life is writable about" Sylvia Plath.