In what is perceived as crisis, a true self is revealed.
Intuition can never be verified until it materializes.
Poison is always served with a smile and pleasantries.
Here is another excerpt from “Am I A Poet, Yet?”
“Can I call myself a poet, and what does that even mean?
I mean, what do you get for it, besides the constant urge to dream?
Are the words I write useful to anyone, or are these rhymes just for self-indulgence?
Will my bars be remembered when I’m gone, or are my verses just a bunch of silly notions?”
This time around, the naming conventions are a little different than my usual. Until now, every new book was named after the title of the latest chapter. In this, next release, the newest chapter is called “Conversations With God,” but the book is titled “Am I A Poet, yet?” Right now, the release is tentatively scheduled for beginning of March of 2018.
“I hear your ancient voice. You giving me a choice or terms of toleration?
I seek collaboration, but I’m receiving business pitches.
Should I be looking for some matrix glitches?
I have a haunting feeling that something isn’t right.
Sometimes, I see the light, or is that just hallucination of my ego?
My mental ecosystem seems so feeble, reality begins to morph into a dream…”
Full version is coming this year, in then next installment of Michaels Lyric, the book series.
Hello, my old friend, do not fear the end.
Life isn’t a trend, it is a runway of style.
Let’s put each other’s shoes and walk a mile.
Point compass dial to the mystic Nile, and we’ll sing with Oompa Loompas.
Jeweled sun, it shines for you,
as my love, for only you,
softly warming up
the blue skies forever.
Tears of joy as morning dew,
and the birds, they sing for you.
Each day, it starts
my love letter.