Hearing Hearts

Once upon a calming sigh,
A gentle whisper flutters by,
Hidden just for one to know,
A secret code of hidden flow.

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Sleeping deeply in myself

My heart knew not it’s parallel.

Never had a voice been heard

To wake it up without a stir.

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Unveiled in a rapid beat,

My chest starts pounding rhythms sweet.

Not a choice to start to fall,

But an answer to it’s call.

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A treasure trove of blinding light,

It wasn’t sought, it came in night

Such was the day without control,

I met the one my heart will hold

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Written by Randall Evans.

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I’m not done with this one, I’ll come back to it over the next few days. Comment below and let me know what’s going on in your world 🙂

Hearts Don’t Beat

Is it ok to be happy ?

To feel a joy inside my heart?

Feeling soft and sappy,

Looking to a brand new start.

All my rhymes have rhythm,

That hardly change at all.

But crafting with precision,

Reflex not how in love we fall.

Messy, bright and typical,

My breathing tastes so sweet.

Inside I feel that I am full

Winter pierced with summer heat.

Hearts don’t beat when they’re in love,

They pump out warmth and light.

Endless streams of boundless dreams

Kiss a soul goodnight.

Written by Randall Evans.

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Please connect with me below and let’s crash the WordPress servers with the amount of writing we do !

Puppy Dog Eyes

I’m a spot in a puppy dog’s eye,

I, in eye, insignificant am I?

The tiny speck in the cutest face,

You notice not my rightful place.

I’m a nothing, if not the key,

A detail smaller than a flee.

But details add to masterpiece,

Piece by piece and none the least.

Have you seen what draws the spots?

The mystic pen that draws in dots?

The ink that hides reality,

Designed by divine majesty

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I’m a detail, nothing more.

To show creations biggest flaw.

That normal isn’t that at all,

It’s overwhelming art and awe.

Written by Randall Evans.

Silence

A week of trekking through torrential rain has my energy depleted, but as I turn my eyes to the sky I see her. The oldest tree in existence. I fall to my knees beneath the terrifying branches that hang over me like the pain of time pressing on my chest.

In my delirium I get to my feet and press through the sinking mud to the base of the great tree. The wind laments it’s warning in accelerated oscillations, throwing rain through the darkness, but it’s too late now. I’ve come too far.

I throw a rope around the oak. The creatures dwelling inside flee their home. The fear paints their faces with each lightning strike. I tie the rope and jump down from the tree.

It’s time.

I pull with all my might. The rain falls through the canopy. The rope burns my hands until they bleed. The deepest roots that hold the fabric of the universe together start to vibrate and quiver. They Scream, “Why? Why are you doing this?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, but I don’t stop pulling. As I use every single cell in my body to pull, it starts to end.

The world begins to slow in it’s spin. The roots start to tear through the surface of the earth, but they desperately cling to the ground like a child’s hand as she’s being dragged into torture.

The world slows even more…

I know what I’m doing, but I can’t stop. I’m looking for forgiveness as I’m committing the crime.

The wind and rain and lightning all form a harmonious plee in the last second of time until:

Silence.

The world’s stopped spinning.

In shame. In loneliness. I sit upon the centre of the universe. The great tree is nothing more.

Written by Randall Evans

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Thanks for reading The Vile Mint. If I was able to spark your imagination, make you think or open your mind to new perspectives, please leave me a comment. I love hearing from readers and building relationships. God Bless.

Instagram and Self Sabotage

Intagram-Devil1

Yesterday I was in a doctors waiting room and the mother next to me started to breastfeed her little girl.

I almost vomited.

What an unattractive, disgusting bimbo she was.

Oh, I’m sorry. Let me explain. As the absolutely gorgeous child was drinking her mother’s milk, the mother was scrolling instagram. Now, this in itself wasn’t bad until I noticed that every single photo was of a photoshopped model. Their perfectly shaped curves reflected off the child’s eyes as she drank.

I understand why men follow hot girls on instagram, but why do women? Men are visual creatures. Men are weak. The moral compass of the average man is based on what is socially acceptable. All men do it, but what makes it even easier for men to follow insta-porn is that women do it too.

Why do women follow sexy fitness models?

The instagram feed we hold in our hand is a manifestation of our desire as well as the confirmation of our own belief. Now, what does that mean?

We believe we aren’t good enough, so we follow someone who we believe is better than us. Our belief of inadequacy subconsciously tells us to follow what we want to become. We believe we aren’t good enough, so we choose every spare minute we have reminding ourselves that we aren’t good enough.

Isn’t this… Messed up?

Or, maybe you think it’s healthy to constantly bombard your senses with the most beautiful people in the world showing off the best luxuries in the world while you wonder why it’s so hard to leave the house without putting on make up? Maybe you think it’s a wise to replicate the attitude of people who’s success is based on nothing more than being born beautiful or being able to be in the position to train their body for 12 hours a day?

Take your power back.

Follow pages of art, nature, love, kindness, charity, music, education, culture, poetry! Saturate your retinas with stunning images of everything beautiful in this world. Beauty isn’t perfectly drawn eyebrows and life isn’t about taking photos in exotic locations.

As a man, the most unattractive thing a girl can do on social media is to ‘like’ photos of hot women they don’t know.

Unfollow all the shallow creatures of this earth. Set an example for the little girls out there who’s childhood are cut short be the desire to fit in in the new world of public perception.

And if you don’t unfollow the foolishness, that’s fine too. But, you can never again complain about how there is unfair pressure on women to look pretty. You are putting that unfair pressure on yourself. Every day.

Maybe this rant is ignorance, or maybe I’m just tired of people choosing to feed their mind with unattainable desires that serve no purpose to their long term happiness.

Who do you follow?

PS: No, the story about the breastfeeding isn’t true, but you get the point.

Written by Randall Evans
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Thanks for reading The Vile Mint. If I was able to spark your imagination, make you think or open your mind to new perspectives, please leave me a comment. I love hearing from readers and building relationships. God Bless.

Flashing Back

I feel these moments take us back
To remind us what our hearts now lack.
When we see familiar sights,
Somehow we feel the loss of light.

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Flashing back to happy days
My heart is stabbed as mind relays
What meanings were, and now, are seen
As nothing like they used to be.

Drifting clouds kissed warming rays
I watched it all within your gaze
But when I saw the sky today
All I felt was my dismay.

New meanings need to change my eyes
To force things out and say goodbye
What is it in myself that grasps
To beauty that was in the past?

I say it’s gone and done, it’s over.
But everything reminds me of her.
There is no path that I can see…
From my mind I try to flee.

Am I afraid of letting go?
Or is this merely candles glow?
Flickering on the walls within
Going out with what has been.

Time is changing all of me
Who is the me that soon will be?
I fear that I’ll no longer care
How the sun would light her hair.

Is it normal to move on?
To forget the past… Forget someone?
For who are we but broken hearts
Forever falling to the start…

Written by Randall Evans

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