© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

The return to one. 
One life 
One love 
One world. 
The life  
Of a tree 
Standing 
And free 
Come and see 
The light in me. 
Do or do you 
Not believe? 
The proof is  
In the air 
Your breath 
You don’t have 
To stare.

One Life

Dark Side of Mobile

Dopamine

Trailblazing Memoirs

The Gentle Interlude

Bring Back the Smoke

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

The hegemony 
not understood, 
how it influences 
my propensity. 
My reaction creating 
an atmosphere, 
uprooting and hurling 
as my perception 
adjusting to the swirling. 
Confusing my focus 
As I listen to 
Some type of hocus pocus 
of the truth. 
The anatomy of 
my conceptual thinking 
misplaced as my spirit 
begins sinking. 
All all at one, 
Creation’s gentleness 
Is all I see. 
See it where? 
A place where the audience 
Is taught not to stare. 
The attention is  
Directed elsewhere. 
Perhaps by the narcissistic gleam. 
Deny, dismiss, devalue and divorce. 
Becoming their common way. 
Controlling the narrative 
Of discourse. 
So, there it sits unabashed. 
Within its gentleness. 
Bestowing the grace 
Of my acceptance. 
The question is, 
“How did I miss this? 
It was placed 
in a state 
of my illusion. 
Ashamed and divorced 
from the communication 
of my very source. 
Denied by the truth 
of my nature. 
by something 
that pretended 
to be greater. 
Dismissed and devalued, 
by the disparaging acts 
of mindfulness that loomed. 
Please old faithful spirit 
in order to breathe 
I will need soon. 
The exposing of  
This hegemony. 
Bringing back  
the breath 
to me.  
I lay my sins 
on it no more. 
Giving me the light 
To endure. 
By the hegemony 
that attempts to shadow 
my propensity. 
The uprooting 
of my soul 
is the perception 
the choice 
for this subject 
to behold. 
The illusional  
Traumatic ties 
Of my sub-personalities. 
These sins I laid 
In the reflection 
of my vision. 
The world of 
celestial gentleness 
becoming my decision. 
To be defined by 
The object of 
What I see. 
Or to plan and  
simply be free. 
To accept me 
As me for me. 
Giving me  
the power to see. 
The blessing 
to be free.

Old Faithful Spirit

Thunder

On the Porch isn’t just a record, it’s a conversation. It’s the sound of old souls and weathered hands, of stories told long after midnight under a sky full of stars. It’s music played on borrowed instruments, with creaking floorboards for percussion and a rusted steel guitar crying in the background. It’s imperfect on purpose, because so is life.

This album is about the roads that shaped us, the ones we chose and the ones that chose us. It’s about scars that never quite fade and memories that refuse to leave. It’s about love that breaks us and saves us, wars fought far from home and battles fought deep within, about grief we carry and grace we try to find along the way.

This isn’t a polished studio album meant for neon lights and perfect mixes. It’s the sound of boots on a wooden porch, of a low, raspy voice telling the truth because there’s no reason to lie anymore. It’s a celebration of the beauty in imperfection and a reminder that some of life’s greatest songs are the ones played simply, honestly, and without apology.

So pull up a chair. Pour something strong. And sit with us a while because every note, every word, and every story here was meant to be shared on the porch.

Piper in the Distance

A Quiet Minute

Ethereal prelude from an unborn soul, dreaming of life's first breath in a cradle of ancestral whispers and tender fates.

1. Whispers from the Womb (A Prelude Unborn)

My songs feature original lyrics that I write myself, paired with music generated by AI based on my custom prompts. I have a deep love for melancholic, sad songs. Only recently have I discovered the beauty of expressing these words through music, and I must say, they resonate in ways I really like

Dark Side of Mobile

Dahl Tice

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