Faceless

Conversations created in zeros and ones,

Something’s lost.

Something’s wrong.

No subconscious signals,

No mirror neurons,

Just respond.

Respond.

I threw a stone at a man that struck him

In the eye.

As much as he tried to hide it, inside myself

I cried.

Sparked in a single moment’s transaction,

A frozen moment of reaction.

She is born from the pain of universal truth.

I wake in sweats remembering,

The stain of guilt that sticks to me.

Respond.

Arrested by anonymity,

Is the growth of…

I threw a stone in the dark.

I didn’t hear it fall.

As much as I tried to hear,

I don’t think it hit the floor.

Face-to-face is now replaced,

New life…

Naked in the wood.

And as trees fall in a digital wood,

They know not what they could.

Respond.

Mind Control

Beware the path of instant dread,

That easy stream inside your head.

Red herrings swoop and plague your brain,

“What could be? Is it me?

Conclusions falling cold as rain.

.

Infant thoughts so soft and small,

While waiting longer for a call.

Clawing, scratching, desperate plea.

“What to do? Not a clue!”

Don’t follow your anxiety.

.

Quenching thoughts of self destruction,

Will your way to their disruption.

Avoid the fall into the view,

“It’s all done! I’m no one!”

And choose to think anew.

.

All you do is all you can,

Your mind’s direction needs a plan,

To stop the worry based on myth.

“I was true. Tomorrow’s new.”

Control the voices you live with.

.

Written by Randall Evans

The Broken Are The Kind

The broken are the kind
Who feel the pain in life
They try to pull your strife
Inside they feel the knife

The broken are the wise
Who wear a smart disguise
They make your spirit rise
Inside they shrink in size

The broken are the warm
Who feel the constant storm
They hold you ‘til the dawn
Inside their self is worn

The broken are the bright
Who make the crisis light
They joke to end the night
Inside their head’s in flight.

The broken are the kind
Who make you feel at ease
But if you swam their sea
You’d call the broken “Me”.

Written by Randall Evans

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

This is The Vile Mint

He Makes Us Laugh !

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The clown’s mask drips down his cheeks, but he has no face paint on. Sitting under a lamp in the corner of a lonely street his mind wanders. The waters rise from his heart to his head, making it impossible to get up and walk home.

This man, this, ‘clown’, spends his time exchanging laughter for pain. People want him around. They lean on him, laugh with him and seek him for comfort.

Everyday he cuts off small pieces from his body and gives it to whoever’s in need. Everyday he becomes more and more… empty. He gives what he wants to receive, yet he doesn’t know how to receive what he gives.

He can’t stay above the surface of the water, because the flood is within himself.

Is there ever balance in life? Is the emotional landscape like the rolling waves? Does the happiness that crashes on the shore eventually have to flush out through the rip tide into the sea?

The man, the clown, the ocean, stands up in the lonely street. He doesn’t stand straight like a hero on a mission. He doesn’t stand defeated like a man who’s lost it all. He stands in his pain with his eyes closed.

He applies his mental face paint.

Another man walks past. Concerned he asks, “Are you alright?”

The clown looks him in the eye.

“No. I’m not alright. I have a left hand as well.”

This is The Vile Mint

Written By Randall Evans

Only Your Happiness

I wish for you the happiness,
That I will never have,
For me, my love, I’m left alone.
Cold and in the black.

The shadows cover everything,
That you once saw as me.
The shadows cover everything,
And I can barely see.

One day we’ll meet by accident,
You’ll call me an old friend.
I’ll laugh and smile and play pretend,
My life is on the mend!

Yet, I sit alone… In the still blue night,
Convincing myself… it will be all right…

Written by Randall Evans

The Honest Poet Bleeds The Most

I can not wake,
I can not sleep.
This heart is heavy,
I am weak.

My eyes don’t see,
They only weep.
My love is gone,
And hope I seek.

What is this path you’ve given me?
Where brothers die and lovers flee?
The me inside has but one key,
And now I’m locked in misery.

I heard her pain as she cried out,
Her heart was broken in her shout.
I’ll take that with me ‘till I die.
As well as our last kiss goodbye.

I held her hand and made her mine,
Each day her eyes would light the sky.
My heart I handed in a box,
Without the thought that I’d be lost.

I’m drowning down in all my pain,
Fragmented self is barely sane.
A broken man, I am again,
Cold, alone, in the rain.

I heard your song, it broke me down.
My tears were falling to the ground.
Have mercy on this sinners heart
I need your love, I’m torn apart.

I know you put her in my sight,
To show me love and end the night.
But, now I’m here and no one knows,
Who I am, my inner woe.

Yet, I don’t care for happy days,
Just for her, to keep her safe.
I do not care if I decay,
Just be with her, that’s what I pray.

Written By Randall Evans