My Everything

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

I live in this container 
Not on a shelf 
Dancing through life 
Pretending to be myself 
Competing with life 
And the cards being dealt. 
Asking my mind 
To look for a heart 
That can be felt. 
Speaking to my soul 
While its presence  
Seems to melt. 
Into the universal drama. 
Unfolding this blissful dharma  
Santana Dharma 
Transcends my thinking. 
As I sit and listen 
To the presence of me. 
Clearing the path 
To a mind 
That can see me. 
The joy of life 
Becoming 
Enters into my sight 
The eternal path of Heaven. 
One must ask the question 
Why do I choose repression 
And not regression? 
As it comes from my discretion. 
Am I looking at  
The world’s transgressions? 
I’m a vessel sailing 
Through the universe 
With the ability 
To transcend time. 
Timeless and free. 
The touchstone 
Of the holy thoughts of God 
Are seen through  
My empathy. 
Experience is difficult 
Through telepathy 
But vision is  
What we see 
Take the next step with me 
Past time’s sleight of hand 
The vast illusion 
And be set free.

Time Traveler

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

Opportunity with
gracious impunity
My function is not
Some buffoonery
But an identity with
Hallowed unity.
The mind 
without a body
Cannot make mistakes
Waiting for the time
It awakes
Awake to the fact
That  “ I have a function
God would have me fill.”
Seek the mind
That is still
To the angered fearful
And tortured mind
Disordered
From a place 
Of being ordered.

Forward into now
For your how.
Forgiveness gently
Looks upon all things
Unknown in heaven.
This new profession
Freeing us 
of an oppression.
past my obsession.

The cleansing
of the state
no need to mitigate.
To subirrigate
A wholly human
Centrifuge.
Transmuting
By a deluge
Of grace.

Forward into now
For your how.
Forgiveness gently
Looks upon all things
Unknown in heaven.
This new profession
Freeing us 
of an oppression.
past my obsession.

The propagation
Of my fate.
Freedom road
Is to be merciful
And to behold.
My joyful serenity
Lies within 
My mindful identity.
Stepping back
To the fact
My function 
Is not found
Within a world
Of envy, hatred
And attack.

Forward into now
For your how.
Forgiveness gently
Looks upon all things
Unknown in heaven.
This new profession
Freeing us 
of an oppression.
past my obsession.

Forgiveness is 
My function here.
A mind awake
That can hear.
Translate
Pontificate
A function
That associates
To the light
From an
Awakened insight.

Past My Obsession

It's not your fault, don't blame yourself
'Cause you had to put your life on the shelf
Living in shadows, under their control
But now's the time to reclaim your soul

Wake up, rise up, it's our time to stand
Against the tyranny, hand in hand
We've been asleep, but now we see the light
Together we'll fight for what's right

They've painted our world in shades of fear
Whispered their lies, year after year
But the veil's lifting, truth's breaking through
We're seeing the world with a different view

Wake up, rise up, hear the freedom call
Breaking the chains, we won't fall
From the ashes of silence, our voices unite
In the battle for truth, in the fight for our rights

In every heart, there's a spark of flame
Spirits un-broken, wild and untamed
In each of us, the power resides
To change our fate, to turn the tides

Wake up, rise up, hear the freedom call
Breaking the chains, we won't fall
From the ashes of silence, our voices unite
In the battle for truth, in the fight for our right

Wake up, rise up, it's our time to stand
Against the tyranny, hand in hand
We've been asleep, but now we see the light
Together we'll fight for what's right

Wake up, rise up, hear the freedom call
Breaking the chains, we won't fall
From the ashes of silence, our voices unite
In the battle for truth, in the fight for our rights

Madeline Rowe - Wake Up

Who Wrote This

I look to my side and you're still here
Like a ghost stuck in an old, worn house
I can't escape you, and you can't escape me
We're tied together like a sorrowful melody

I wish the scene had played out differently
That we weren't a sad song from a beautiful love
I still see you here, still feel you near
But we’re not really here, not together

Words can cut so deep
Even "I love you" hurts when it comes from you
I tried so many times to make it right
But wrong always felt so right to you

If I can’t forget you, then at least don’t scream
Haunt me gently in my dreams
I want to let you go, but I’m still afraid
So haunt me gently in my dreams

I know I sank so low with you
But I tried so hard to make it work
It wasn’t for lack of trying on my side
It was easy for you to stay,
But for me, it never felt right

I don’t want to hurt you, don’t want your hate
But the way you haunt me, it’s not been kind
Even in my sleep, you don’t let go
Even in my dreams, you still won’t go

If I can’t forget you, then at least don’t scream
Haunt me gently in my dreams
I want to let you go, but I’m still afraid
So haunt me gently in my dreams

Haunt me gently
Oh, oh, ohhhhh

Haunt Me Gently

Uma música melancólica sobre uma separação

Despedida

Marks I Carry

Hardy Mums- Not So Hardy At All

This playful folk-style tune takes a humorous look at the fall garden favorite: chrysanthemums. Sold as “hardy,” they burst with color in September and October, only to vanish when winter comes… or reappear as a single scraggly sprig the next spring. A little satire, a little truth, and a lot of autumn charm.

Perfect for gardeners, humor-lovers, and anyone who’s ever bought mums again (and again).

Hardy Mums (Not So Hardy At All)

news.m4a

More Than Words - Music Travel Love

This ongoing project rises from heart, soul, curiosity, experience — and a couple of programs that help me piece it all together. Share if you care! :)
Rap, trap, indie, grunge, country, trance — just some of the sounds I’ve been shaping along the way.

My music changes with the day. No plan, no limits — just feeling, rhythm, and the joy of creating something that might make someone else feel too.
Thanks for being here — check out my other pages if you want to dive deeper. Q&A in the mail please.

Who Wrote This

Dr. Foss

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