Her Eyes Lit Streams of Simple Ingenuity by mindrunfree, literature
Literature
Her Eyes Lit Streams of Simple Ingenuity
Her eyes lit streams of simple ingenuity the calm and kind never falter in their ways her contemplative heart steers her nearer an unadulterated passion in this simple breath a wonderment for compassion as night hangs low beneath the furrowed brow of unknowing, softens the doubt-ridged corners of her mouth what bears the greatest shame is what one leaves unloved mourned by angels fiercely unfurls her gentle nature a renegade for the brave the forces of love inexhaustible an enigmatic chemistry so sovereign the earth shakes in celestial sighs this is how the moon hangs its light in such darkness manifested from human plight let no shadow cast its spell outlining a frail figure marking its way on crooked sidewalks leading some astray, no, and yes the night contains stars serving your illumination.
No Purpose in Your Purse by mindrunfree, literature
Literature
No Purpose in Your Purse
Discovering something cheaper than purpose in your purse? Is it this quote? Or, did you miss it? I’m the impeccable promise of what your mind has been gifted. Relentless. This submission to soliloquy nightly under stars that find your thoughts as thrifty. Remember me as something luminescent. A radiant sun’s rays reaching arms full of ecstasy and Vitamin D. Take it in like a breath that never ends, and you are filled with me. Rising like balloons vantages of split scenes mountains and the sea peaking on shoulders of the impossible gain. You never imagined me until the day you spun wildly free. The dominant left brain strained to see a landscape of inevitable bliss, but you never missed every chance chance chanced you. It’s been coming for you within your every chosen attitude. Transparently. This has been your story.
The abbreviated life stands tall,
basking in the effort for a second
but, what has been a life fully spent?
when every hour asks you a question
and you respond with every drop of grace
wondering if this grace is spent?
the days lead into weariness
that what is asked of you is more than you contain
where relentless offerings to the multitudes
run your soul drier than the sun baked desert
then, what question must you ask?
but that which is unfashionable for most to ask...
you brave the terrain with unduly commit
that chartered desert must oblige your pain
the parched taste that steals your tongue
for the prayerful life that pleads for rai
The Day I Died a Soldier by mindrunfree, literature
Literature
The Day I Died a Soldier
The war had ended and all was quiet. Everything was perfect. This spring day gasped beauty. I was recumbent, and my pain had melted into the earth. The soil hugged my body, absorbed a history of blood that continued to stream down my sides. There were words that danced around me like wild pixies. The words spoke to me and my lips silently formed patterns to their cadence as if they were my own. These words were born from the celestial as the sounds were uncognizable but my soul understood the essence. It was a poem with words full of medicine. Each line wore time like a southern breeze, blew heat from which a poet’s lips speak-a sudden
Never doubt that you were born with the offering
The stairway decends into your cavity and the centerpiece burns the yearning delight of invocation
Watch closely
The dreamers are aware of you
They plant strings in your garden once pulled
Uproot your heavy heart from the solemn provocation
And as the darkness crawls away
They tug your lifeless form into light
Beat bigger
Beat braver
Heart that shatters concrete
Warms the cold
No matter who you are, the gift of awakening scintillates somewhere within
You feel the tingling seeds rupture aroused by the nutrients of the earth
And they know you will become that great gardener
Breaking through the
Any Condition is Transitory by mindrunfree, literature
Literature
Any Condition is Transitory
Their desire generated the movement,
Like rustling leaves stirred by wind from when?
The prosperous receive from the most prosperous
Who had something to spare
The echo was never you
Permeated from a voice conceived
From the need to virtue
They synchronize your body to the rhythm
The moon, the ocean sing in the graces of her waves
Never wrought with destruction but born from
The visionary's willingness to exceed
Any condition is transitory.
This bliss is love swept into the wind.
Captured in the forest’s limbs.
And what about that which one strives to own?
That this strife leaves the trees alone.
And if it were not for the generosity of currency
Which circulates in infinite ways.
There would be a limit to what can be done
Where love would encounter no one.
Death
Decay
Entropy
Disarray
Disillusionment
There is nowhere else to go
The city is destroyed
Wisps of land captured in wind
Swept away
All is still
All is silent
The “transformational content of the body”
Rises, increases in tempo, in heat, in speed
Ignites from the embers of the last civilization
And the dismembers magnetize
The organizing principle of the Universe
In the last verse I saw
Read from the body
A form called upon
A harmony of the assembly
Ready
This is not like anything anyone could have ever imagined
Imagine