Song Writers Deserve More Credit

First of all, as a writer myself I should probably admit the fact that I might be slightly biased with what I’m about to say – so to be fair, I want to get that out there before going into this. That said, I feel the need to make the following statement:

As far as songs and the music industry in general are concerned, songwriters deserve much more credit and respect by the population at large.

Most would probably agree that when we think of our favorite songs and lyrics, we tend to associate them with the artist or vocalist who sings them. In fact, I would go as far to say that in the majority of cases, the average person couldn’t even tell you or hasn’t ever heard of the writers behind the words (obviously this doesn’t pertain to artists who originally write their own material, which is another thing altogether). Personally, I feel that this is an egregious disservice to the sentiments and messages that go along with the writing. Sure, the individual delivering said messages via their a better talented/more aesthetically pleasing voice deserves recognition – but we are remiss if we think that the writers’ significance is less deserving than the singers’ reciting their work.

If anything, the entire meaning and mood that the writing instills, which as I’m sure we’d all agree can be inexplicably impactful, touching, and inspirational, exists because of the persons responsible for artistically crafting the lyrics. An incredible voice can do wonders for how the melody makes us feel, but for those who are more influenced by the actual rhetoric rather than the audible tune/melody, these folks are invaluable. Now I know some of you might be thinking “well anyone can write stuff, but only a gifted few can sing.” And you’d be right. But for anyone who hasn’t tried their hand at creative writing, be it prose, poetry, or music, please take my word for it when I say that it’s a hell of a lot harder and more complicated than it sounds. Not only does it require the creativity, wisdom, and experience to be concoct the message and meaning in the first place, it also requires a cocktail of natural talent, artistic expressive capabilities, and acute awareness of the human condition and what content resonates with us as people. In many cases, deep, profound writing even calls for emotional trauma or particular sensitivity to common struggles and challenges we face as a collective unit all trying to navigate through the cold, harsh bitch that is life on Planet Earth.

So please, make an effort to at least tip your cap or otherwise acknowledge the hard work, sweat, and tears we as writer pour into our scribbling. I’m not saying you should go build a shrine to us, but an occasional pat on the back or nod of the head would be nice, ya know? And thank you to the ones who already make an effort to be aware of this stuff.

Rant over. Good talk…I’ll see you guys out there.

We’re All Just Bros

Broseph Stalin, communist, said capitalism, no more

Hipbropatamus in water and he’s swimming to the shore

Winter clouds above and the bro began to pour

She said to put this down so I’ll just bro it on the floor

Shopping all in silence I must tipbro through the store

I’ll bro through basic training when I join the marine corps

A garden bro will tend my crops, my harvest you’ll adore

Scarlet Brohannson takes a bow, and the crowd shouts out “encore!”

I locked the house so to bro in, here’s keys to the back door

Flamingbros at the zoo are cute, you know we all adore

But buffabros and the rhinbros are ugly, an eyesore

I do not bro if I will have the answer you look for

So do not ask this bro again – your question, it’s a bore

Fury

Petty? I shan’t think it’s so!

I have this Monet, and Van Gogh

Clearly, I appreciate

The things the low class tends to hate!

An eye for that which is so grand!

Smaller brains won’t understand

Yes, this is what I say to thee

A peasant is but lesser me

That means that I am better, yes?

Oh come on now, I must digress

Let me say something, highbrow

I am not fucking joking, now

A good person exists in me

The spirit of my mother, see

She can see right through your shit

And make you walk on top of it

So save your graces, save your prayers

Cause I know, you know, no one cares

This isn’t the beginning, friend

It’s just a taste of what’s at end

When I’m Gone

It saddens me that people are

So short-sighted, they don’t see far

And that these words will not be read

Until I live no more, lay dead

It is the truth, I do not care

What you might think, you’re unaware

Just what these things I say right now

Might truly mean, and yet somehow

You live inside your same old box

And if the truth stops by and knocks

You plug your ears, say it’s not so

Pretend it’s not there, even though

Late at night, all that remains

Is blood that flows inside your veins

You can’t escape that which is true

That greed and envy consume you

‘Tis why so many are not read

Until they lie alone, and dead

Mentors of me, they say it’s so

Their names are Edgar, and Van Gogh

Yesteryear

I ask myself, exactly how

Did I not see as I do now?

What things went on in yesteryear

To blind what I can now see clear

Perhaps it is with every age

Our lens grows sharp with each new page

Time, it makes us wise and true

And strips naïveté from you

The young, the old, we’re all the same

Just wand’ring souls in life’s bored game

We drift and dwell and dream and drink

And hardly ever stop to think

It is the way we’ve always been

‘Twas even said when we’d begin

It will not ever change, I fear

I long for what’s lost: yesteryear

Within

I am not who I was before

The man ‘twas me I so deplore

He’s hanging, cuffed, and sins no more

Locked deep behind my closet door

In darkness he now dwells, alone

His mem’ry cuts straight to the bone

It weighs me down like rock and stone

And hates that I’ve, at last, outgrown

People change, I can attest

All my wrongs I have confessed

If hatred can’t forgive, lay rest

Your mind is but infant, at best

Perfection does not dwell in thee

Forever, it’s an absentee

Look in the mirror and you’ll see

No better you are that, than me

Persevere

I care not for opinions, the things I say are true

My conscience guides and truth resides

in action, not with you

If you must talk then walk the walk, because otherwise

You’re all the same, the fact remains, you’re jealous and unwise

Weakness fosters hate for those who climb above the rest

They try to drown and put you down because they are depressed

Hate is part of this old game, it hasn’t changed at all

It’s been played since the first day that humans learned to crawl

Care not for those who bet you’ll fail, because they are the worst

And even though they think it so, don’t ever lose your thirst

Success will come to those who wait, for patience is virtue

The only ones who’ve seen it done are those who know it’s true

Necessary

NECESSARY

I think I’ll write a poem that speaks epic truth, tonight
It doesn’t matter if you tend to lean left or lean right
Politics aren’t helping us, the gap is greater in-between
We need to stop fixating on whose King or who is Queen

We need to shift the focus to what matters, that’s for real
We need to stop the spinning and start breaking culture’s wheel
Martin wasn’t joking when he wrote that brilliant line
The story’s great, sure, but a grander message lies behind

Nothing’s stronger than a thread that’s woven one and all
But if you try to weave it on your own you’ll sadly fall
History has proven this, it’s not news to anyone
The ink in this here pen I wield weighs more than your big gun

Every life we live is shaped by minds that can run free
And if we came together just imagine what could be
Forgiveness, empathy, this is what we need
And we ever grasp these things our whole planet will be freed

Fire doesn’t put out fire, its ego you should bury
Someone had to say it, right? These words are necessary.

Lines

Rest is what my mind desires

I see the redness, and the fires

I care not what they think of me

My thoughts confine what should be free

A puzzle piece that doesn’t fit

No matter what I do to it

It’s odd how heat can cause such chill

It’s never matched, and never will

The darkness dawns, it’s due to me

As solace comes to set me free

I’ve waited for its calm, you see

And longed for its serenity

There is a message, bottled up

It sits right here inside this cup

Doubt, and weakness, are a sin

And endings start, where they begin

One Day

Listen, can you hear it?

Such beauty, violin

It’s strings are humming softly

To remind us where we’ve been

Such time it took to get here

So far, the journey seemed

So quick were we to make it

We’ve forgotten why we dreamed

Our life was so much simpler

Our souls, they all were freed

When nothing seemed to matter

For love was all we’d need

Just how did all this happen

Where did we go astray

Is it lost forever

Or can we find our way

Such sadness sweeps, such sorrow

Alone and thinking, every night

My heart, it longs so dearly

To feel that things are right

My hope, I fear is empty

Despite how deep I yearn

To live with pain, this broken

Is something I can’t learn

I wish this world was kinder

I wish we could all live

I wish we’d act as equals

I wish that we’d forgive

We lost our love, compassion

Somewhere along the way

Yet hope will live in my heart

To find ourselves, one day

Ours

Tell me what you’re feeling cause my heart just started healing and I’ve poured my very soul into the words on this page

I need to understand you because I don’t want to go through all the things that locked my heart into a cold, dark cage

I’ve tried so many times and I have witnessed all love’s crimes and I don’t want to start the war my shattered heart might wage

The only thing I ask is to make honesty our task to get past each other’s pasts and make it into old age

Please tell me what you’re thinking I can’t let our love start sinking just pull back all of the curtains see, this world is our stage

Smoke and Mirrors

Animals. Miscreants. Products of society.

Monsters making mice of men and dodging notoriety

When will people realize that this world’s not what we think it is?

If you’re naive and say it is just do a quick analysis

Peace. Love. A child’s future without war.

All these things they advertise are not what they are fighting for

Human nature guides our acts, but most of us are ignorant

The truth is that our leaders are deceitful and indifferent

Some of you will understand and some of you will tilt your head

Scoffing and believing in the things you’re told and lies you’re fed

All the actions humans take are driven by their minds, you see

Every single move we make is driven by priority

If we care we do it, the bottom line is crystal clear

Pretense is the mask we wear to tell you that we’re all sincere

But deep inside you know it’s true, yet no one seems to take a glance

Afraid that mirror might make us examine our own circumstance

Fingers seem to flex a lot when pointing at the ones out there

But flip the script and things appear to always seem so laissez faire

Why must we get so caught up in pointing out the obvious

None of us are perfect, stop expecting all this godliness

We’re driven by our motives and my friend, we’re all just animals

Behaving so predictably it’s like we’re all mechanical

Its why the ones who run the world all falsely claim benevolence

Then grin to hide corruption and intolerant malevolence

This world of ours is not the one they taught you in your church or school

We’ve let the thieves into our homes and put them on the throne to rule

Now the future we must face, as freedoms what we’re fighting for

The path ahead is free of fog, no smoke and mirrors anymore

The One: Entry 2

It’s weird for me to be telling this story. I just want to be upfront about that before we get too much further into this little journey you and I are about to go on. Sometimes I wonder why it’s so hard to talk about this stuff when I’m face to face with people, but then I realize that I’ve already answered my own question. Face to face is hard, don’t you think? It’s just so, I don’t know…different. Because when we’re speaking to someone in person, we can immediately see their unintentionally expressed judgments and subtle cues that make us fully realize what they actually think of us. Right? I know you know what I mean.

Which is why I prefer telling my stories like this. Journaling, you know? Journals let us extract the real. The deep. The truth! Because with journals, we don’t have to concern ourselves with an audience. Ugh, the audience. Always judging. Always critiquing. Anyway, I digress. Let’s get back to my original point.

Love. Soulmates. The ONE.

Yep, you heard me. I bet you already know them. Wanna know how?

Technology.

Simple! This whole Information Age that we find ourselves lucky enough to be living in has unlocked a near unlimited number of doors for us. Yup. For anyone willing to try and step in, the various social media platforms and apps we have access to are host to literal millions of people all waiting to be validated. Doors just begging to be opened.

All you have to do is knock.

And hell, sometimes you don’t even need to do that! There’s people out there who just leave the damn door wide open! Its crazy, I tell you. Sometimes it makes me wonder how certain folks can be so trusting with all their shit out there in the open, but hey…I guess not everyone is as messed up in the head as me. Seems there are plenty of perfectly normal, “nothing to see here” types just asking to be walked in on.

Wait. I think I got off track again. I was talking about meeting the One, right? Of course I was. So I bet you’re wondering what I meant by that. Well, believe it or not, my scattered brain never ceases to fail me and has brought us to the answer. Social media! Simple. It’s so easy to read between the lines and really understand people based on a precise formula: one part profile, three parts day-to-day posts, and a heaping spoonful of comments/actual interactions. Because they all tell us different, albeit very important, things.

Take our profiles, for instance. Or our own personal “ad”, as I prefer to call them. They’re basically shovels full of bullshit that we scoop from the dirt-pile that is reality which we then cast toward the window of public knowledge – hoping that the best parts stick on the glass before slowly falling down so others will remember the crap we want them to. They’re sort of like social resumes, but without the necessity of having to worry whether or not we can back it up. You know…like an actual, real job would require. I mean after all, how many people do you know would look at a person’s “About Me”, see that they graduated from Syracuse in 2012 with a bachelors in Bio-Bullshit or something, and then actually go check the alumni lists to make sure they’re telling the truth?

I’ll save you the time: no one. You know precisely no one that would do that. Maybe some photo stalking to audit them perhaps, but hey – all it takes to dodge that one is a quick “Where are my college photos? Oh please, I had to delete those when I started applying to real jobs. You know how it is!” Giggle giggle, sly wink, and a sip of that vodka cranberry and we’re on to the next topic. Please. Any uneducated kid with a vocational degree can do it. So yeah, that’s the profile for you. It’s our canned version of ourselves. Which, incidentally, can tell us a lot about someone and how they wish to be perceived.

Then there’s the day-to-day posts. These are basically the fluff that people put up to support the claims advertised on the profile. All initial releases need some backup content, no? Sort of like sequels. Posts are like sequels to our first installment, furthering our narratives. Makes sense if you ask me.

Which, of course, brings us to the meat and potatoes. Comments. Interactions. Arguments! These are what truly reveals who a person is or is not. Actions speak louder than words, after all, do they not? Oh yes. They most certainly do.

But let’s get back, for the third time now, to how you already know your soulmate. It’s by taking the information we just discussed, and intelligently applying it with the appropriate intentions. Social media. Reading people. Easy. You know it, I know it, we all know it.

We all have that one, perfect person out there just waiting for us to slide into their DMs. The question is whether we ever grow a pair big enough to actually do it. And what you’re about to learn…is that me? Well, I did.

Boy, did I.

The One: First Entry

Can we be honest with ourselves for a moment? I want to talk about some things. Things like Facebook. Twitter. Instagram, perhaps. Hell, even Tinder…anything that lets people advertise who they are (or at least who they want to be) without having to concern themselves with the real world.

Yeah, I know.

It’s not easy to examine one’s self. We’d all much rather be judging someone else. But right now, let’s do the hard thing and focus the lens introspectively.

Sure, it’s easy to look on at the spinning wheel that is social media, watching as the people we know and grew up with move on with their lives. Comparison is the theif of joy, ain’t it? That’s what they say, at least.

It’s funny though because everyone’s aware, whether consciously or subconsciously, that social media is just a highlight reel. If only we knew who we all are after each one of those many layers of social graces and obligatory formalities got peeled back. The real, you know? Because as much as we market how cool our lives are, at the end of the day…it’s validation that we really want.

Most of us, that is. And you know what? That’s perfectly normal. Not at all a thing to be ashamed of.

After all, most of us just want someone who knows us. Who understands us. Who IS us. We want to enjoy life with a person who gets, more so than anyone, who we truly are. And I’m not talking about the person at three o’clock, bringing in coffee with the same fake grin we all wear knowing we’re just waiting for the hour hand to get knocked ahead a couple notches. I’m talking about the person we are when the day’s facade is over, the candles go out, and the door closes. That person you see when the ambient light from the TV flicks on as it highlights the it-was-a-long-day-fucked-up-hair and feetie pajamas silhouette. That’s the person we’re searching for.

And you want to know something? I bet you’ve already met them.

I know I have.

You Might Be A Writer If…

“All real writers are published”

Hang on a second, that statement’s wrong!

What say you of bloggers, huh?

Can poets not come tag along?

“Ha! We scoff with tilted heads”

“Real writers do those on the side”

“We know that true art lies in sales”

“For money validates our stride”

“So please, a blogger? Some stupid poem?”

“You think that these can pay the bills?”

“Don’t make me laugh, you amateur”

“Just the thought gives me the chills”

Bite your tongue, pretentious fool!

It’s not for funds, why true arts made

Passion, love guides pen and brush

‘Tis by-product, when we get paid

And cut! Fake convo ends as Matt chimes in

On wars of words, “label” affairs

I cannot help but ask them this:

WHO THE FLY’D FUCK EVEN CARES?

 

Just shut up and write, you dweebs.

 

Hard to Get

A damsel in distress she’s not, though nights are all besot with her

Affection widely chased more than even gold, frankincense and myrrh

Aged better than Venetian wine, smoother than a fine liqueur

Treat her as the Queen she is: this maiden we call Literature

 

Sought by many, caught by few, to court her is a Fool’s Errand

Exceptions only granted when one’s dedication’s apparent

Gentle, patient one must be; to nothing she can come second

For absolute commitment is the quality of all legends

 

Everybody’s knocking but the owner just turns out the light

Fight to find a way inside and find the lock is far too tight

I smile as I watch them shout and beg her for one night’s invite

Because this pen unlocks the pad where Writing lays her head at night

 

So intimate we’ve grown to be, forever I’ll be in her debt

For it was I who was distressed, and she who saved me from regret

Sincerely now I thank her for becoming my one true duet

Eternity I’d wait for her: this love who was so hard to get

Wanderlust

Wanderlust, traveler, perhaps even gypsy

So many labels they’ve applied, but in reality

Living life is all she wants, it’s really that simple

Her spirit shines through both her smile, and her cute cheek dimple

Life is meant for living, yes, a thing she truly gets

Singing, dancing, spinning round, she loves without regrets

Always brightening what is dark, this girl, so free of care

Defined by “one day at a time”, she’s happy everywhere

Some may say she’s weak, not strong

But she knows that they all are wrong

She is not lost, like others say

This girl’s just finding her own way

For all the things we say and do

There is but one thing that is true

Life, she says, is nothing more

Than canvas, white, awaiting more

It’s you who gets to fill the blank

And for this chance, we all should thank

This beautiful and wondrous place

For giving us the life it’s graced

Support

It’s so funny

To me, at least

Each time I see

A friend succeed

As others shout

He’s a sell out!

In a negative outburst

Real friends agree

And true family

Support you, see

Help climb that tree

They do not doubt

What you’re about

They help you charge headfirst

It’s easy to see

The irony

For if you feed

In jealously

As people go

I’ll let you know

My friend, you are the worst

Winds of Change

Softly cup my hand to ear

As wind blows whispers that I hear

Sadness, loss, regret they bring

All shadows from my yesteryear

Words escape me, ones I’ve lost

I never knew how much it’d cost

When I thought not to buy a ring

The path I should, I never crossed

Now I’m forced to walk, move on

Time has passed; those moments, gone

And though I wish to have them back

I must stay focused on the dawn

For life is cruel, it won’t concede

Regardless if I pray and plead

And though I may not be on track

Faith in myself is all I need

Things in life, they come and go

And as I lift this small window

I look outside, only to see

That we reap the things we sow

Every action, every word

Is seen, or felt, or tasted, heard

And whether it is you, or me

Life’s purpose always seems so blurred

So, to you, who has a past

Do not let your transgressions last

We’re here, together, throughout our time

And everyone has sins amassed

Live with love, try to arrange

The life you want, an open grange

Do not break rhythm, just to rhyme

And always, ride, the winds of change

Woe is Me

Friday night, bars are closing

I don’t know why I’m here

Feelings hit me deep inside, stepping in this Uber ride

It’s loneliness I fear

Every time, inside my head

I say that she’s the one

Naïveté and ignorance have got me acting with no sense

So why oh why do I keep saying this is pointless and I’m done?

Finally things are going well

But like every other time

The real comes out and causes doubt

I cant stand the paradigm

I don’t think I’m wrong but

You don’t think I’m right why

Can’t we get along and

Not do this every night

I’m tired of the fighting, and

I’m tired of the arguin’

This only causes breakups and

Makes people want to live in sin

I wish more than anything

To find someone who’s struggling

Someone who sees the world like me

Who doesn’t judge and lives freely

A person who embraces flaws

Instead of these unspoken laws

Who’d rather sit and talk with me

Than go out for a shallow drink

Sadness sweeps so subtly

The more I think of you and me

I wish this world was different, see

Filled with love, and yet sadly

It’s superficiality

That guides our actions, you agree?

I beg your pardon, woe is me

This world is just…melancholy