i am not a curated list of
the top songs,
the best songs,
critically-acclaimed songs,
picked with so much care
too much care
the others cease to matter
i am the songs
known and niched
borne out of an artist's dream
i exist so they could dance
in the kitchen at 3 am
i might not expand the world
in which i live
but i will persist
in careless dancers
dancers like me
the dancers after us

O here comes cupid with his glittering golden wings,
Under her command to strike down all the powerful kings,
not with hatred but with Love,
She has everybody hypnotized by her beauty,
She is a Queen... her eyes are made of Jewellery,
Her presence the closest to heavens,
and Her voice to ears sounds like oxygen,
she's Venus De Milo,
QUEEN
She's an earthly angel,

She's fantastic,
she's the opposite of cataclysmic,
An uprising cosmic,
perilous hypnotic,
QUEEN
she's nothing more but Majestic.

Once upon a time there was a beautiful Princess who came from the Roman empire,
Now this Princess was not just an ordinary Princess,
She had a face that made the angels jealous,
Her celestrial features directed her majestic walk...
and her voice-
her voice like my dear own mother's; determined everything she wanted,
It was at a bowl that the charming Prince from greece met this princess that I speak,
He fell in love short a time and he couldn't speak,
"Excuse ma lady?!" he came into the scene,
"You must be Princess Mipsy?"
"Yess that is I, whom am I talking to?" the Princess replied.
"I am Prince Allan from the greek empire, and forgive my manners but you illuminate this room like the afternoon sky!"
She smiled and said "Oh My! Saya! lets not get too far!"
"Ah" King J of Rome stepped into the scene
"I see my daughter has met the greek messenger"
Prince Allan wore a frown on his face and said "My father has sent me here to look for a bride, and I hope you don't mind if I ask the Princess for her hand?"
The king of Rome interrupted
"But there are plenty of maidens in greece boy! why here in my empire?
and god forbid! if you take my daughter this shall be war!

be careful my friend
the clockwork inside is yet to be complete
cogs remain still
but they will soon beat
and then you'll see
why i believe
this to be
my masterpiece

I prefer to rhyme.

It's a canvas my hands are forced to paint in.

It's a limit I'm given, to try for more creative.

It's a gimmick that stands, supporting what the aim is

To have purpose when pressing record,

before I say this.

A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
I wanted to say,
Set yourself free,
sing until you have
a poem and no voice.
Open your chest
and let your heart say
what your mind can't
Act as if you own the day
and all that you live
and all that you see
and all that you feel
you boxed up for inspiration.
Write your mom a letter,
and tell her that you miss her
but you'll be back someday.
Because being a writer is traveling
through a wide and dangerous and wonderful world
and coming home must wait.
Remember to love yourself
even if it's hard to do with
ideas cluttering your brain.
and Reality tapping at your skull
saying is this worth it?
Warn the neighbors that if they hear voices
It's just your soul
changing and creating.
Learn how to accept others.
Learn to let go of everything you don't need
in order to stay sane,
Learn how to grow
from your failures.
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
All I said was
write

The pen can strike much deeper than the sword.
Yet the sword will always have its place.
It deserves the utmost respect.
Like a solider who sets out to meet his foe- he recognizes his enemy and acknowledges its power.
He's prepared for every blow.

Know your place and learn your stance.
Be ever quick to hold your tongue.
The man behind a rifle analyzes every angle before he pulls the trigger on that gun.

Both a bullet and a word can send a ripple in effect.
Make no mistake in all your judgments
they may stretch the length of death.

Pressing on into the future yet we never know what's next.
What does tomorrow hold?
Take a guess, and I assure you it's as good as mine will ever be.

I see a man behind a desk;
he conjures up a thought.
I see a soldier set in battle;
he's prepared to take his shot.

You see before the lights go out, there's always work yet to be done.
As the clock continues racing,
set your pace against the sun.

Take aim.
Your opponent is at the ready.

just because I enjoy solitude doesn’t mean I feel alone.
sometimes for me silence is what soothes my soul.
truly, when I’m off by myself I’m not in part, but in whole.
I can finally sit in my creative throne.
I can reflect on the past and see how I’ve grown.
I honestly prefer not parting my lips,
but rather, I like to keep my pen going in my fingertips.
because in my solace I write in my own tone.
I favour the quiet over the noise.
I’d much rather be my own one and only.
for when in silence I am full of poise.
because when I’m alone I am not lonely.

I feel as if you already should’ve known,
I am not lonely when I’m alone.