Justan Mitchell

2016-05-05 12:00 am

Is There One?

One shall arise from the midst of these, yes these, these little ones who have watched their parents hung, strung as ornaments on trees, yes these even, in 2016. 
Then their are those without future hopes due to broken homes, these that have been led my mainstreams, instead of being led to mend broken bones, these that say "keep you voice in tone". But I say fear no the word alone.
For when through the spiritual you roam, the heart, mind, body and soul will fill gaping holes, allowing pens to flow freely into places that pencils can't go. But then there are these who pose, posing in a still stance engulfed with frowns of hatred because they just don't understand and so their actions scream,
"HEAL THIS BROKEN LAND!!!"
And this has become their native tongue, crying out for the guidance of the ONE!

Please is there one?

Look into the eyes of those that have died before the age of five,
those that wear hearts of black and blue art, with mental repetitious records rapidly playing the age old song why,why,why?

Why do we experience sacrifice before we experience life? 
Like Christ? 
Why such a cost for these before they learn t be at ease? 

Maybe, 
maybe the world is impregnated by crazy and is on the verge of raising yet another baby?
Maybe,
maybe the man in the mirror reflects hatred because he hates himself?
Maybe,
maybe he can't accept kindness because he's been denied the knowledge of his own true weath, the knowledge his own true self.

And then there are these who are lost without cares dragging along the heaviest wear and tear, with the deadliest raging flare, but tarry not along the road of destruction, because destruction is in the eye of the beholder, but the beholder beholding many self inflicted wounds and self inflicted wounds can easily spell doom!

And then there are these who are serving high stations that need fine replacements! These that have been exposed by their blood drenched tongue, that on self unknowingly and knowingly told. Yes we know these. But sometimes and even one times these can be we. 
And now I see many spirits lost in the overwhelming shadows of IT'S beaming light, spirits claiming underdeveloped knowing as the source of their plight, and so it hurts me to SEE,
Yet even still one shall arise from the midst of these yes these, these little ones who have watched the parents hung strung as ornaments on trees, One such as me.

Is there one?

Dangerous Soul Life

Justan "Potential" Mitchell

Justan Mitchell

2016-05-04 12:00 am

When my peripheral vision glanced at her she did not resemble the Queen of my dreams, not the Cleopatra whose footprints roamed across my back. Instead she painted her own impression upon me.
And due to her own flare, I've grown tense to taste her plate of truth or dare. If you have not gathered the info yet, her Irish sunset over Germany before her floral scent approached me. Then I looked and her twinkle with a smile seductively manipulated the process to be hooked. And I am not speaking of the kind of love that "fictional" novels boast. 

In noticing her high esteem I could not retrieve in memory, surroundings that clearly reflected my wantings. Never to resemble a member of my mental figures of infinite atmospheres, and it is now clear, she was waiting just two steps to the right in the mid of night at a club for those who write. The next lesson is the next blessing, and I think she likes me too! But I'm not speaking of the kind of love that boast lust or that funny feeling from romance novels, not even the wish one makes as "Jeanine" awakes from her bottle. 

I am writing this for you.

Your artistry equates to what my heart's song translates, and I can relate. The Proof of your mental weight has positive potential packed in places beyond superficial positions of great! All of this and I still can't pronounce your name, which leads me to say that I'm and glad my dreams have already been played way out across the intricate workings of Nature's space. And our collective destiny has been predetermined so what will becomes of it, is what we add to IT.
Oh and by the way it is nice to know that chocolate is still love and that spirits still connect and grow, yes it is nice to know. 

Justan "Potential" Justan Mitchell

Dangerous Soul Life

Justan Mitchell

2016-04-13 12:00 am

Mother

Mother of Style and Grace the load carrier of the race

Mother, our comforter of shade in mid summer.
Mother, our near perfector, 
the rare refresher of constant blessings from the fair blesser,
from He who blessed Her.

Mother, desiring to bring up the multitudes,
after a long nine months of serving two
Mother, responsible being for all of humanity,
and all the other creatures we see.

Motherhood, 
to the single fathers doing what you are supposed to do,
raising the levels of consious understanding, 
this one's for you, mothers too.

My Mother,
One with a Queen's eye and high esteemed Pride,
blessed with a natural high,
off life she flies.
I Love, Honor and Adore this Mother of mine.

Mother of Style and Grace, 
she can light up a room with her smiling face! 
But be careful, 
don't let a woman scorned takeover a loving Mother's place!
Mother will discipline when pushed the wrong way, 
now it's the grands who better fast and pray!
Teacher of many lessons,

Mother of Style and Grace.

For my Mother.
C.L.M