I put myself on foreign land in search of Travellers’ Gold; but faces there, all fresh, but bland, turned my elation cold. The boundaries all seemed to heed were of visage and speech — ’Twas arduous, thus, to proceed and isolation breach. One’s countenance does not decide the order of their heart. Have not … Continue reading Poem 3
In a time when sexual barely-even-innuendoes, and insipid but rapidly delivered sentences dominate the music scene almost all over the globe, I am writing a letter to all musicians with a hope that they will not be lured by the razzmatazz of fame and fortune and stay true to the music they were born to do.