If given the chance to have 5 minutes with you, I want to share this with you:

Your music keeps me going. You may have heard that sentence a thousand times. So, if you would allow me to paint you a picture.

I work in a job I don't like. The job itself is not bad. It's actually very meaningful. I thought meaningful was enough for me. Apparently, it is not; I want it to be both meaningful and something I truly enjoy.

Enjoy in a sense that even though it's difficult, it is something I'll wake up for. It's something that would make me forget time. And for me, that is singing, acting, performing, and teaching. But it is not my reality right now.

So, every Monday, I drag myself to work. As each day passes, the guilt of being late subsides to none. Sadly, the thought of having a responsibility to other people has become less compelling for me to work. I've spiraled into deeper, and darker realms where I've lost control over my mind and body.

And to force myself, a desperate attempt to get up, I play your songs. Next thing I know, I sing your tune, dance to your beat, then the impossible starts to happen. I begin to cook food for myself to eat, I open my laptop, and get started on my emails -- I finally have enough to start my day, to get it going.

These maybe simple, mundane things -- but they mean my livelihood, my future, my life. You help me live my life.

Thank you for your music. I hope you stay truthful to your tune, to your beat, to your message.

The ability to never fail in speaking in the flow of sugary syrup is an undeniable form of art for me and the artists possessing this art are the ones from whom I am scared the most !

We see them all the time
Who sell happiness as a meal
To unsuspecting people who're confused
They sound smart & have the right jokes

But follow closely & they get old
Bitter, experienced old men
Meddling into everyone's business
Trying to sell some happiness.

I feel my thoughts,
of feelings felt,
cannot let go, its still
there, poetry isn't helping

I need cigarettes
and evenings filled with long sighs

                      and
                                 fragments
                                        mettled
                                          poems
                         and more cigarettes

                          waiting for my angst
                                     to form stanzas

                      tonight I’ll probably just
                                  cough a lot
                                          and go to bed early,

      
            but first I need cigarettes.

To loathe oneself
is an art,
I suppose we
are all artists
one in form or another.

What a beautiful thing it is !
A Canvas that speaks a lot
Wow ! an artist’s soul
That try to speak a lot
From the window of canvas
To the doors of sky
Till the depth of ocean
In the romancing moonlight
And spreading its vastness
As the fragrance
Of night blooms
Until the sunrise
Again from morning dews
To chirping birds
Snowy mountains
To windy breeze
A moving cloud
And even from rain to rainbow
All is possible
With the tip of a brush
Is a marvellous thing
That depicts an artist’s heart

An art is a creation
Of an artist
Which is made
In different colours
With different paints
And in different shades
But all in one canvas
Makes an effective painting
Which can never die
As an artist’s soul
That is lightning forever
As a magical lantern

Some paintings speaks a lot
Like stories to us
When it starts speaking
The whole image depicts
It’s originality
As an original photo
Of some place
And that really can lost us
Somewhere as in the canvas

Even eyes of a portrait
Speaks a lot
When we stare in that eyes
It seems as the person is gazing
As a living person is standing in front of us
Which feels like a real photo
And it really makes
An unbelievable painting
Which is like giving life
To the non living thing
Within the canvas
By an artist
Or like a flower bloomed
In the hands of an artist

Canvas that speaks a lot
Really shows true heart
Of an artist’s creation
A beautiful creation
By ones own hands
Mesmerise all of us
With no time
Like an original picture
Taken with a camera
Of high resolution
Is something to adore
With the hearts of love

Canvas that speaks a lot
Is a graceful creation
That makes us wonder
Which is a miracle
In hands of an artist
That remains its effect
For life time
And that make
An artist
Different from others

Canvas that speaks a lot
Is a creation of art
When an artist starts
To move his hand on canvas
It starts to speak a lot
From the sincerity of love
To the beauty of a nature
Sparkling eyes of a human
And the depth of a sea
All that beautiful creation
Of Godly things
Is once more painted
With the help of an artist’s brush
Is something that speaks
For a lifetime
With thousands of words
In one image
Is an exemplary
Creation of humane
In a canvas

Canvas that speaks a lot
With voice of heart
Beats in every hearts
And in all eras

An artist is like a lantern
That lightens other lights
And a canvas is a mirror
Of an artist’s soul
That reflects the lights  
For lifetime
Which was once lit
By an artist
With a great deal
Who was owned
By an eloquent soul.