There's always going to be a river flowing downstream
When you want to go upward
There's always going to be a light in the sky
But you can always walk the dry land,
Moving on your feet, you can push a little harder
Why won't you just keep your burdens light?
Where there is a will, there is a way
At least that's what wise men always say
So why should we leave ourselves to drown?
There is hope for you, for me,
For the wicked too
When you're already on the bottom,
What do you have to lose?
We may be small,
Oh, but hope is so strong
When you make up your mind to push on
Where there is a will, there is a way
At least that's what wise men always say
So why should we leave ourselves to drown?
There's always going to be a mountain standing in your way,
But baby you can go around it
There's always going to be a light in the night
There is hope for you, for me,
For the wicked too
When you're already on the bottom,
What do you have to lose?
We may be small,
Oh, but hope is so strong
When you make up your mind to push on
Do you -- do you know the reason they moan?
Like abled creatures and beings,
or the pullings tides,
our watchful trees with too to move.
They wish to enjoy the harvest, to dance in their fallen leaves.
They long to sway and sing with the times of change,
and to see the miracles of seed.
But their roots are buried deep,
and to be removed is defeat.
So they sing their lonely songs
with weathered bark and
branches that reach for more.
These are the reasons they moan.
Music, music, it’s in the air, Here is a list of what I hear: A B C D E F G (1 e & a) (1 2 3) Rhythm, beat, timing, and tempo, Fermata, rest, and accelerando, Forte, piano, half, and whole, Quarter, dotted, and staccato, Sharp, flat, and natural, too, 4/4, 3/4, 6/8, and 2/2, Measure, scale, and arpeggio, Chord, seventh, and legato, Major, minor, and decrescendo, Crescendo, seventh, and ritardando, Staff, spaces, lines, and strings, Sixteenth, in-tune, and fingering, Woodwind, brass, position, and trill, Treble, bass, mellow, and shrill, Percussion, composer, style, and key, Quickly, lively, somber, and freely, Triplet, tone, tied, and up-beat, Pick-up, slur, eight, and down-beat. You may hear music here and there, But I hear music everywhere.
Speak the Word
Hope is a power,
An evil Devour.
Love is a song,
Steady and long.
Peace is a bird,
A flock above the herd.
Yet these Words will diminish,
Unless we do not Cower,
Unless we sound the Gong,
Unless we Speak the Word.
When I listen to a romantic song, known,
I like a poet start to ponder over,
Certain things that are,
Connected with you alone.
I get lost in a fantasy,
As soon as the music does enter,
In each of my ear,
Letting me embrace ecstasy.
This is how my soul finds you out,
It’s something I care much about!
There he sat, intently listening
to the sweet melodies.
Letting all the simply glistening
beats be his remedies.
Betting on the bass christening
in exertions in his extremities.
A song so blistering and fresh
he decides to name it Listerine,
and tattoo its lyrics on his flesh.
He closes his eyes, enters a serene
scene and wishes he could mesh
with the notes but keep it pristine.
His eyelids slowly rise once more.
He rises himself, now prepared
for any thing the day has in store.
To this euphoria nothing compared,
and total allegiance to it he swore.
HUMANKIND
I want to speak one more Language
That everybody can easily speak
Same as our food or as beverage
If not, it means, we are weak
I wish I could deal with people
In everywhere, whatever they are
I hope I can once be able
To become a friend to those are aware
Serious or peaceful situations
Should not affect our hearts
The poverty or luxury nations
Are only our world' parts
I met the lady of my dreams,
so please don't wake me from
my sleep...with a celestial
voice, her presence is Angelic.
If we can fall in love at first
sight, then I'm in love.
Passion when she sings, I'm
here to tell you, I want to
conquer your heart without
poetry, create the rhyme
with your rhythm...
This Poem is a song I cannot
sing, only express.
You are the reflection of
perfection, the better
half that I need...still patiently
await for your heart, to settle
in the thought of loving a poet
like me.
I will confess your presence is
hypnotizing, if you only knew
what this song is trying to say,
but I have no music without you!
My first thoughts are of you each
morning I awake, you become my
dream when fall asleep, the words
to this song are becoming more
poetic, accompany me with your
guitar as I rehearse you...
my poetry!
An artist like me, maybe lonely like
me. Lovers we could be, if you
become the words to my poem, and
I the song of your life...
What happens when your tired of being used
Tired of writing sad songs and singing the blues
Friends ? Not friends at all
The same snakes you take to the mall
Everyday faces seem so predictable
Their only goal, is to ruin things unfixable
But you standing strong, taking all you can take
Backed up in a corner with a shell that can't break
And your lost, with no sense of direction
Just wanting to feel some type of love and affection
Cringing for words, craving for the truth
Looking beyond all disguises for who is here for you
Knowing what is right and doing what is wrong
Confused by the words they say so strong
Young wild nights turn in to unbreakable habits
Looking back to the past saying shit happens
Do words hurt ? Do they mean what they say ?
Will they give you the answer or show you the way ?
The truth is always left unsaid
But you will know who was real
Only when your dead