Singer/Songwriters

You are amazing, wonderful, and talented.

However… do not mistake what you do with song as what a writer does with writing. That is not the same thing, not even close. Please stay in your lane. You are an honorary writer, yes, but that is not the same thing as an author or poet who does not sing. A poem of ink and pen, does not enchant the audience with a beautiful song that can be heard, a stage performance that can dazzle with lights, and the bewitching grace of her beautiful presence.

She writes the words on the page, like stars in the void of black, empty space. Maybe you see a blooming nebula though her telescopic lens, or maybe the constellations come to life from myth, but the words do so as themselves, not with the poet who writes them. They are like fireworks that the reader must set alight.

An author is very much the same. The main difference is the length of journey I suppose. A poet is like a refreshing walk in a well tended garden. Even though you see the same garden every day, every day when you pass under the ivy covered wicker arch and into the shady orchid and oleander grove with the stone bench and moss covered water bath, you enter a new world every time. Her poems are like a trip to the red light district of Roppongi at midnight. The neon lights of classy bars and clubs are like a city street casino with barkers and hostesses here and there inviting you in for drinks. Girls and guys dressed their best under the cover of night shimmer one and all while Aphrodite casts a haze of divine perfume over the district, a welcome illusion for everyone to fall in love with everyone. Which stanza should I enter for a drink? Which verse to order and imbibe? Every word invites you in, calls for you like a shameless lover, needs you to go inside and drink her wine. Maybe you stay all night, or maybe you leave while the night is young.

The author is like a lonesome mountaineer. He moved away from the city and sounds to find the wilderness of nature uncivilized. Then he made a path through thicket, valley, wood, and stone, careful with each step and turn to be least imposing on Nature’s realm where he is encroaching as a fearful stranger. He is one of the human beings who have subdued the earth by force and will, tearing down forests, blasting open mountains to tunnel through, drilling deep into the veins of precious ore, and taking the life of beasts for flesh and fur. How many animals used to live in those wilds before humans came and claimed their domain? How many creatures were there whom we will never see because of ancestors who could not limit their greed? Into Nature we go, most feared, but not unwelcome, because we are just another creature of this planet, a son of creation, doing what we will.

That is why such meticulous and patient care is taken to make a path from the base of the mountain to the lofty peak. A walking trail to go one by one, mile after mile. Not only for the peaks most high, but also the valleys dark and low, wild groves abundant vibrant, streams crisp and cold, ponds bubbling with slime, the fresh air, forgotten scents, and the exercise of energetic vigor. We make a single trail, and countless others then walk that trail, but they do not remember us, nor do we care for them to. They don’t see who made the trail, but perhaps what he saw, who made the trail, and more still. They remember Nature’s glory, wonder, and splendor, and atop the peak in the realms below, civilization is just another lake in the earth, one glittering with jewels and gems.

But these are not the only way, sometimes the poet will make the trail, and sometimes the author will reveal a world within a home, and more beyond the wardrobe.

This is different than singing, but do not think less of the art of song. Heavens no! Just take care to not cross the streams.

The writers of the world have been done dishonor with disrespect by an entertainment business that evades the word of law, and civilization suffers without us in our rightful place. The law is not a fiction narrative for you to play with. It is not story for you to change, edit, and reimagine. The law is sharp, cold steel with no purpose other than killing fools.