But Hope is Strong

The Light

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

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I've been feeling inspired again. This is the first song I've written in years, and it's good to be back at it again. 


Peace and love,




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.  

Author's Notes/Comments: 

There was actually more to the poem, but I opted only to share the second half. Just a little something. At the time I was a rather interested in trees. Smile



Music, music, it’s in the air,
Here is a list of what I hear:

(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.  
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Speak the Word

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.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Sorry it was short. I made that one awhile ago and it really touched my heart.

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Listening to Songs

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!

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Favorite Song

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.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

My first attempt at rhyme in my poems.

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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


This Poem is a Song...

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...



Author's Notes/Comments: 

She's a hot momma...

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Who's real ?

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

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I'd really appreciate honest feedback. Be as blunt as possible.

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