Technical Difficulties

I’m not too sure why my post from isn’t visible…oh well.

Here is the Spoken Word and link to the podcast. I hope you enjoy!


Image by: Re°
Music bed: “Thinking of Home” by ohhgeeeznotagain

Give me a winding road to get lost on,

somewhere in the middle of nowhere.

I want to see lost memories play

like carefree kids in the Summer.

Someday, I’ll run wild and free

out-running the troubles that follow me.

With the wind at my back,

I can see all the possibilities.

Round and around

with the clouds gazing down,

I’ll follow the path

that’s led me to the here and now.

The miles of today

will gladly show me the way

where life laughs a little

and comes back around.

Many dream of a second chance

too occupied with past regrets.

All it really takes is a bump in the road

to notice it.

With one foot in front of the other,

and a personal little prayer,

problems always come and go—

no matter where you wander.

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Take care and have a great week! ~John

Just Another Dream

Image from Pinterest
Music bed by ZakharValaha: “Always With Me, Always With You

Only when a shadow’s silhouette points North
can my eyes clearly see you…
off in the distance
between dusk and dawn.

My heart knows you’re there
but I can’t convince my mind otherwise.

It’s as if time no longer knows who we are.

Tasseled dreams hang from the stars tonight—
just one wish away from being mine again.

Hearing your heartbeat would be the death of me—
if you allow it.

Now, let me rest my head on your chest
and sleep.

Like a December rain or April Snow,
you appear back into my life—
facing reality once more.

How many times will I have to say,
“Goodbye” to you
before we can both completely move on?

Regardless of what I pray and hope for,
tonight is all that matters.

I know that you’ll be leaving again
this time good.

Please take our memories with you
in exchange for the pain I’ve caused
and promise me
you’ll never forget how much I’ve loved you.

Intentionally Left Blank

Image from Pinterest
Music by: Lesfm

What comes to mind when you see a blank page? This marbled morning had me questioning this. I groggily tossed it aside, silenced my alarm, and went about my day. However, I kept thinking about it. So, I sat down with my favorite journal and turned it to a blank page. On this fragile page, things started to come to mind.

The days were so carefree and simple, even the mornings took its time waking up. Heart-to-heart conversations, that normally led to nowhere, were shared over a cup of coffee and where time was better spent.

A friendly “Hello” always made someone’s day. A smile was cherished without knowing a name and having your own opinion mattered without feeling ashamed.

Love didn’t need a definition.
Hope was abundant in every person and
Faith wasn’t solely restricted to religion.

Having had a dose of nostalgia, I closed my journal and sat there. Now, you can guess what I decided to write. But this is what makes my journal so special—no words are ever written. These blank pages have reminded me of “where I’ve been” and “where I can go”, like a map pointing the way forward because the days can be long and complicated but there’s always something to be thankful for. Heart-to-heart conversations can still be shared over coffee. It’s taking the time to listen rather than answering is all that’s really needed.

I’m reminded to speak a little kinder, sharing a smile whenever it’s possible, and yes, if I’m being honest, I’m still learning to accept opinions and criticism from those who actually matter.

Love or a passion can still be realized.
Hope just needs to be revitalized and
Faith…well, that’s for you to decide

For me, every page is like a mirror that shows a version of ourselves I think we need to see. I would like to know what you see.

Last Holiday Wish

Image by: KiSei2
Music by: LesfmChristmas Magic Night

our cautious feet still kick up the snow/
to watch the skies as angels take flight/
on their long way home/

There they go and there they go/
with parting tears for those they know/
I wave my Goodbyes to the angels tonight/
on/my short/walk home/

echoes the sound of an empty home/
Nights are more silent/
Prayers grow quiet/
The holidays are now/long gone/

How I will miss/
nights before this
where we sat down in bliss
and we all reminisced
on the good times we had/
Now I know that sounds sad/
but we’re all/so glad/
for what/we have/

Counting the days
from when we parted ways/
I watch/as time slowly slips/away/
I’ll remember my friend
that this isn’t the end/
I’ll close my eyes and just pretend/

goes my bro-ken mu-sic box/
It’s missing a dancer/to our song/
And next to me is where you belong/

Throughout the year/we’ll stay/in touch/
and always living for just enough/
As seasons change I’ll patiently wait/
to be/with you/ano-ther day

And so, I raise/my glass/in your name/
I hope/that you/would do the same/
Here’s to the year/and to you/
and may you find happiness/in all/ that you do

Some Me Time

Image from Pinterest
Music by ZakharValaha: “Endless Beauty” (snippet)

Restless are the nights
under a veil of shattered stars and lanterned prayers
when I’m the most social

Sipping on bittersweet silence
to reacquaint myself
with a person I hardly knew

in the confines of the mind
I laugh along with the angel and devil within

Such nights make for memorable moments of yesterday

My Dear December Child,

Image from Pinterest
Music by Lesfm: “Just Relax”

It’s been a while and that time of year again,
Making it the fifth winter.
Sitting on your side of the bed.
Writing you another love letter.

I hope this finds you well and that you’re staying warm this holiday season.
You’re probably stressing out from being all festive as your loved ones walk in and out of your kitchen.

Hey, December child.
Can…you keep a little secret?
It gets harder for me each time
but somehow I get through it.

When the sincerest of snow starts falling
and all the Christmas trees glisten bright,
I’m left frostbitten in solitude
unwrapping memories of when you were mine.
I’m also deaf to the carolers and joys of silver bells asking for a smile or two.
I just can’t bring myself to be charitable knowing someone else has you.

Oh December child, how the nights have gotten colder.
Are they the one your heart calls for to sit by you and the yule log fire?
I should know better than to ask but
do you still think of me?

Cause the thought of you, no matter how painful, is my only gift on Christmas Eve.

Well, December child…it’s time for me to go.
I know it’s not much but I left you a present on your phone.
As for this letter, I’ll lock it away and keep it with all the others.

Until next year my love,

Yours forever

Depressively Content

Image by: ZandraArt
Music by: Dmitry_Taras

On occasion, I like to take my mind out for a walk and stroll the streets of thought to hear what the rain has to say. For we’re alike (the rain and I)—our words falling only to puddle in the most inconvenient of places where people look down on us. No need to worry though. Not everyone is accustomed to it.

Every cautious step takes me further and further away from the high-rises of brightly lit lies and deceptive expectations. A city where common sense and logic are no longer accepted as currency. I remember getting high in the alleyways of “What if?” and panhandling at the intersection of What Might Have Been. If it weren’t for the generosity of people looking to profit off me, I would’ve never found my way out of there.

As I continue my trek through this wasteland I built and call home, I notice that this drizzle is the same as it was back then. And like freshly fallen tears, they’re warm to the touch.

And accepting.

No longer am I a person to stare out their window in hopes of finding an answer to a question no one asked. I’ve sobered enough to understand how agonizing a smile can be on a person strung-out on prefabricated phrases laced with optimism. Their mantra of “Living in the moment” still breaks my heart and I pray that when the high dies down, they can find their own way to accept themselves.

Eventually, this dreary weather will come to an end. For now, I’ll keep it company a little while longer. I’ll ignore the urge to pick a few flowers of inspiration along the way, if I happen to see any.

To the me still wandering, it’s okay to be depressively content.

Literary Pianist (audio)

Art by: Chang Chun Mao
Music bed by: ZakharValaha

Among the many hues of morning,
I see only black and white in front of me.

Thisunsymmetrical tappingcan be too monotonousthisearly

And not before long,
the tapping…turn into notes…
followed by a subtle tone—
one I’m unfamiliar with but somehow know.

I can’t tell you what I’m writing. It feels like I’m on stage, performing.
And that’s when I hear it—that gentle voice I’ve been waiting for.
It sounds just as angelic, if not more.
No longer deafened by fear, I know it’ll disappear.
So, I continue to play what I hear.

Days I thought were gone still have their melody.
Childhood dream within reach.
Imagination finally freed.

I can feel the words I want to say.
I don’t know why I pushed them away.
Was it wrong of me to hold them back—
lacking the courage of their talent perhaps?

Time to toss caution to the wind.
I won’t know when it’ll be back again.
And for the moment, I let go
of all the archived secrets within my soul.

Four…five… and six…

The tapping turns back into silence.