1000 Followers! Thank You!

Thank you so much. Thanks to the small fraction of followers who like posts, the even smaller amount that comment on them and the one mystery person who shares them. In particular, I’d like to thank my top commenters of late. You make the writing experience enjoyable and fill it with pockets of hope.
.

An octopus was once asked, “Which one of your suckers is your favourite?”

.

“Indeed, I don’t prefer one to another as they all perform the same function. Yet, each tentacle can have a different purpose. On occasion that purpose is merely to appear elegant, or crude or artistic. In a situation where I wish to eat a particular snack deep within a tight crevice, I’d favor the sucker upon my longest reach.”

.

“What?”

.

“… What?”

.

It’s hard to pick favourites, but at the moment two of my favourite little suckers are Gateway and The Love I Have For You.

.

When I post to wordpress, what you read is the first draft. I fill blank space on a page and just throw it out there. My ‘favourite’ story I’ve posted is Silence.

.

It’s funny, the most popular posts on this page are the only non-creative ones: Instagram and Self Sabotage and, of course, Tinder and the Death of Romance. I actually really enjoyed writing these, but they are rants, nothing more.

.

It actually saddens me that people would rather read dribble than something creative and less on the nose. Something that may make you think just a little bit harder.

.

Anyway…

.

What’s next?

.

Well, I’m aiming to have The Vile Mint published as a little chap book in the near future. It has works that have never been online as well as reworked poems from this site. I’m also hoping to die a tragic death so my family can capitalise on selling a dead poet’s signed book. I guess if you want a signed copy, just comment below and I’ll reply to you when it’s ready.

.

Also, I don’t think I’m a good strategist when it comes to building a large audience for my blog. I’m always open to suggestions. If you could help in any way I’d love to hear from you.

.

Thanks again! Here’s to another 1000!

.

Randall Evans.

Am I Evil ?

Creatures lurk within the trees,

Alive, unseen without the key.

Gushing winds hide whispering thoughts,

Of ghosts and spells and elvish sorts.

.

Damp is the dark bark’s texture beneath your soft hand’s touch.

Gaze upon the majesty whose roots run deep in mud.

The oak was born before your breath and lives beyond your trudge.

All that gaze on ancient art will drown in endless blood.

.

Yet, all that do or don’t,

Will suffocate in time.

We try to swim afloat,

But, drink the reaper’s wine.

.

The evil thought you had tonight,

The one that gave a light excite,

Will be the ancient snake’s delight,

As much as spells occults recite.

.

Written by Randall Evans

.

This one isn’t quite done, but I haven’t posted in a while. I’ll be adding to it shortly.

Simultaneity


When stress begins to take control.

Begin to think of time as whole.

.

Streams keep flowing as you think,

And death takes men with every blink.

One foot in fire; One in ice.

Arms outstretched in depth and height.

.

A child dies within the womb,

A flower dances in it’s bloom.

Love’s first kiss on nervous lips.

Flying birds and sinking ships.

.

Midnight, midday, they are the now,

Awake, Asleep, a death, a vow.

.

What are we but selfish beings?

Emotions flow immediately.

Perspective points of different seeing,

Stuck not in time, in sensory.

.

If I were time I’d laugh and cry.

In every second I pass by.

With focus on each lone event,

A flapping wing, a final breath.

.

Stress all you want and waste the day.

The trees don’t stress, they only sway.

A butterfly lands on a child’s nose,

And time holds more than what you know.

.

Written by Randall Evans.

The Valley of Longing

Everyone’s lost

In the valley of longing.

It’s a journey within

When seeking belonging.

*

Looking for something

To put one at ease.

Searching for light

Shining bright through the trees.

*

Down your feet take you

Through mud and deep roots.

Clinging to branches,

As vision dilutes.

*

You slip and you fall,

But you’re ready to see.

The future self’s guidance,

Deep within thee.

*

The journey’s sufficient,

To make you fulfilled.

But right at the bottom,

Is quiet and still.

*

Nothing but clay.

Clay and decay.

The truth of your life

Brings pain and dismay.

*

No inner child,

No voice of the soul.

Yourself cannot guide you

You’re down in a hole.

*

A selfish puddle

Of tears in rain.

With the realisation

You’re lost again.

*

The valley of longing

Traps all the lost.

A prison organic

Where children are tossed.

*

To thine own self be true,

Is a beautiful lie.

You’ll slip down inside,

And true truth will die.

*

How to escape

The valley of longing?

Look to Zion

The city is dawning

*

Written by Randall Evans.

The One You Need

Strive to be the one you need,

But search your inconsistency,

For injustice that is thrown on thee,

Reflects your incongruity.

***

What are the traits you have in mind?

Are they the ones you left behind?

As you seek it’s true you’ll find,

Staring back your judging eye.

***

Double standards in your heart,

So within yourself is where to start.

Look deep within and strip apart,

The real sin inside your heart.

***

For kindness to find be kind.

If selfless you seek, rewind.

The values you must align,

Should shine from a place inside.

***

Seek the one who makes you whole,

And be the one you’d want to know.

So when connection wakes your soul,

Your seeking heart can be on show

***

Strive to be the one you need,

But search your inconsistency,

Remember words graced from above,

Your neighbour as yourself you love.

***

Written by Randall Evans.

If you like it, hate it or appreciate it let me know in the comments below. I also love reposts… and chocolate chip cookies.

Deflated

Deflated are my insides as I try to take a breath.

Just an empty shell as I refuse to get some rest.

I lack all the energy to beg and scream and yell.

The demon’s back to haunt me for I chose to ring his bell.
.

My soul is missing from my breath, but I found him in this pen.

I can not see the light from here or any way to end.

My words are working magic now that I can’t feel inside.

Art will never save us all, it’s just a way to hide.
.

I wish to live without the pain, but pain is what I am.

When suffering is self induced you give up on the plan.

Nothing matters in my mind, everything is gone.

Why’d I choose to ring his bell? The best of me was on!
.

Hunger pains when I can’t eat.

Insomnia when I need sleep.

Poison pulsing through my veins

I can not stand the day to day.
.

Will the demon let me go?

And if so, will I know?

How much evil lives inside

My deflated self that I must hide…
.

 

Written by Randall Evans

Strings

The fiddle gently pulls him under,
The cozy sounds of distant thunder.
He is but a fool.
Seduced
by notes from in the sea,
As tears to widow’s misery.
.

Depths of sorrow beyond the tree,
A place where sun and sky can’t see.
Empty in himself.
The centre of the broken clock,
Where time is lost, but never stops.

.

He hears the devil play each note,
The strings of death that pull and choke.
He eagerly descends.
Seduction pure, true, unfair,
In prison now with
body bare.
.
Evil thoughts and evil deeds,

He throws his coins at Devil’s feet.
Darkened is his heart.
He’ll play until the final dawn,
The final day when comfort’s gone.

Written by Randall Evans (while listening to Edvard Grieg).

***

Connect with me below 🙂