A rant seems appropriate. . . .tying ends together the only way I've ever known how, I listened to what reverberated on the inside and picked up the blue Ibanez deity I'd soon call 'home'. Those six strings elevated each of my senses. Each fret taught my fingertips a thing or two about war. Every chord, foreign or not, reached out and plucked through the muscles in my throat until a "voice" began to ring. I learn something every day and that education never goes unnoticed. I appreciate the support to no end and will never, ever give up.
What's interesting more than any trend, socially ….. I'm in an aircraft, said metal machine that lights up everyone's ability to expand upon what it is they love.
They know it not, no one ever does. Dreams escape even the ordinary. Love is so.
To live for another, to write for anyone else. To stand for something, to believe in perfect in terms of attainability.. . .. .
To suggest that Shakespeare was right.
To wonder whether the Oakland Femme Fatale beside me knows more than he.
To place a bet on anything other than me and mine, this dream that overtakes consistently.
To wonder whether the Oakland Femme Fatale across the way has the capacity to believe in the beauty beside... . . .. .
If there's a sure . . . sure-fire prediction as to the solution .. .. . please to tell.
If there's a way to secure an action .. .. . resulting in the the decapitation of fear … .. .
If there are answers that succumb, moments that will let me become
Stop time, rent a room
pretend you know I am the island I am and
swear by the light of the dark side you'll not abandon.
Voice and guitar with mellow alto saxophone