MINDLLC

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Impatient in finding the result is a limiter. Keep learning seeking answers to the questions

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Driven1

Hopes and dreams echo through all mankind as we push forward to be what we can and can’t see

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🎤 How to Be a Lyricist-Pt. 7 – Protect Ya Art (Theme: What Is Intellectual Property?)

Your lyrics aren’t just lines — they’re intellectual property. That means your words, your melody, your originality… it all has legal value. If you don’t protect it, someone else can claim it — and get paid for your pain, passion, or punchlines.

So what is intellectual property (IP)? It’s any creation of the mind that can be owned. For lyricists, that means:

Lyrics

Hooks

Melodies

Concepts

Recordings

Even your artist name

When you create something original, you automatically hold copyright — but if it’s not registered, proving ownership in court becomes a nightmare. That’s why professional lyricists file copyrights, log sessions, and document who wrote what.

Collaborating? Get it in writing. Co-writing without contracts leads to confusion and lawsuits. Don’t let a handshake cost you publishing.

Also, remember: just because something isn’t stolen yet doesn’t mean it won’t be. Artists have lost whole catalogs because they didn’t understand their rights. Don’t be one of them.

It’s not about paranoia. It’s about ownership. You worked for those bars. You rewrote that verse ten times. You bled for that chorus. Protect it like it’s yours — because it is. Bars are valuable. Treat them like assets.

And as always……r u using ur mind?

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remembering the many failures trying to move the pieces forward and staying motivated thru it all and growing....

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DON’T BITE THE HAND

Once upon a time There were two hands Each one with a mind of its own The right hand did the writing The left hand-held paper and books And everything else together Left hand believes the right hand gets to do more Dropping papers and books handling former duties with an attitude that’s poor Everything’s a contest, Just to write with a pen Foolish as it is left hand must always win Left hand plots to be alone more with each confrontation Day after day constantly feuding The left hand is envious and jealous always brooding And finally decides to do something drastic Intent plus action equal results which are drastic One fine night left hand hides a knife in the books To act on the fiendish plan that has been made Cuts off the right hand filled of glee But now when writing and everything else must be done

The left hand has no time to have fun Now the fingers are always are always sore, That’s what happens when you try to be cruel So never bite the hand that feeds Now who’s the fool?

From the digital Ebook titled “The Dark truth and little White lies” by Enfantu Raa

#original prose#literature#musings#poetry#words#prose and poetry#poems#poems and words#quotes#spilled thoughts#writings#the dark truth and little white lies

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THE PASSENGER SEAT

That was me for twenty plus years or so, eyes closed with the seat inclined back In that nice, soft, passenger seat With situations and opportunities, passing me by Sitting there, with life driving me, not concerned with driving myself Listening to what other people thought I should do Other people…that didn’t have themselves together I don’t know when it was, that the passenger seat stopped being so comfortable Or I started wondering where I was going, I decided right then! That I had to get out of the passenger seat and get myself into the driver seat Much easier said than done on any level, I had to first get the vehicle to slow down Then I had to get control of the vehicle, then I had to get in the driver’s seat And the hardest part came next Not just driving the vehicle, I had to learn myself, what drove me Drove me to get out of the passenger seat and drove me to get into the driver’s seat Now I needed to know where to go, so I started driving And I drove and drove and drove, until it came to me The goal or should I saw. Where I needed to go….SUCCESS BOULEVARD I’ve been driving for a while now In the driver seat, not quite as comfortable But nevertheless, I’m driving…Driving the vehicle, which is me And now I’m asking you Are you driving?…..or sitting in that other seat?

From the digital Ebook titled “The Dark truth and little White lies” by Enfantu Raa

#original prose#literature#musings#poetry#words#prose and poetry#poems#poems and words#quotes#spilled thoughts#writings#the dark truth and little white lies

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BREEZEWAY

Publicly, there are no private lines. The outside world is a fantasy, he lost track of time. There might have been something lost in this transition To order bound soldier from rational civilian At the start of a new journey in this predicament. Marching every day in the thick of it. Living in barracks, which look like projects. In a new setting with all new effects. His fellow private reads a Dear john letter every night Cries to himself once we turn on the lights This military suppression makes him seek deliverance He thinks civilians have with proper guidance. 8 weeks of basic, 5 weeks of AIT. Our first duty station, What was said to me in MOS school? Success is a team player following the rules. I find myself wondering as well, my permanent injuries tell their own tale Stressed out-he was to be a chapter. His reward is extra duty, his life is a disaster He listens for the 4:1 5 am, trains of escapism for AWOLS. Soft seats time out of the elements for sick calls. Now cancerous his fear and discontent have grown deep

I wonder about him guarding both of us in the foxhole while I sleep Barely 20 cast in a role as a man. Swore to protect and serve as he lifted his hand. Pretending for drill sergeants to have nerves of steel. Chanting redundantly one shot one kill. He’s been sent to the chaplain to find restitution. It may be there’s only one solution. in this occupation-there is no hesitation or you’ll be on the way to a darker destination Wondering if his old girlfriend has found a replacement. In a military marriage he thought was just an engagement one may say he’s in a place he shouldn’t be Sergeants call him a nonconformist, difference is diversity. We positioned ourselves, not as legends making history. More as willing counterparts of true effort-not hypocrisy This still isn’t anywhere what we were told or showed on t.v. Meanwhile-I look for blind justice and true democracy

From the digital Ebook titled “The Dark truth and little White lies” by Enfantu Raa

#original prose#literature#musings#poetry#words#prose and poetry#poems#poems and words#quotes#spilled thoughts#writings#the dark truth and little white lies

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EVERYTHING

What are you to me? Hmmmmm, let me sit here and think You are: the warm heat of the sun, warming me to the core when I am cold The sensual, soft kiss my lips yearn for passionately awaiting a gentle breeze A gentle breeze, whispering softly against my bare skin You are: the tranquil peace and serene surroundings That guide two lovers on a romantic walk With the vibrant glow of moonlight Pulsating through their veins A playful kitten, whose nature it is To have a frantic energy and love to tease Cool water that can quench my insatiable thirst And the white-hot flame within me That has yet to be extinguished You are: the teacher And I am the student you are a dancer And when you dance, you call me with your eyes, taste me with your lips Suggest subtle embraces with your thighs and enrapture me with your hips I really don’t know I can only wonder at what mysteries Lay behind the picturesque vision I see After wondering about these thoughts And many others I can only sit here and let my mind drift to what else… You are to me

From the digital Ebook titled “The Dark truth and little White lies” by Enfantu Raa

#original prose#literature#musings#poetry#words#prose and poetry#poems#poems and words#quotes#spilled thoughts#writings#the dark truth and little white lies

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THE PLAYGROUND IS MY GIRLFRIEND

Think of pain sweet with the first bite, that’s what I felt when I first saw her. WINTER I was only 5ft tall and 8 years old. Even though I inhaled cold frigid air. Brought my friends to meet you, showed them that no one loved her more than I. As the wind blew chilly blast against my face. The whole time my fingers stung and were frozen. But I never let the ball go, I practiced all the time dribbling and moving with the basketball. Just so I could be in her sight, sharing precious times that’s how we were. I fully gave my heart to her, her hair was grass I loved the smoothness of her skin. I could see her concrete contour wherever I went. I had full offense and a little defense. That’s when the situation became tense. SPRING She began to notice me and told me I could play. We could go steady as long as it was her way. And she wanted me. Foolishly unaware of what would of what would occur. That’s when everything became a blur. Days becoming warmer and so did nights. I try to better myself and we would fight. she didn’t want me to love or think about anything but her.

SUMMER I’d see you but we kept on walking, when we did speak we never finished talking. At this rate I knew her and I wouldn’t last, attention she gave me was now broken in half. Now the lights are on, she told me that I no longer have the skills to keep her. She would not give me the time of day and that really made me mad. Now the love we once had has dwindled with time The end of 17 years in a loving relationship the playground was my first love and my first girlfriend

From the digital Ebook titled “The Dark truth and little White lies” by Enfantu Raa

#original prose#literature#musings#poetry#words#prose and poetry#poems#poems and words#quotes#spilled thoughts#writings#the dark truth and little white lies

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AMERICA

America is like a knife whose razor edges. Cutting at my soul aimlessly, land of opportunity. Land of the free, so what will it be. America is like a forkDigging into the melting pot I’m in Where fortunes are lost and sweepstakes are won. A person can get five minutes of fame robbing a bank with a gun. America is like a spoon-stirring perception Deception and capitalism in a stew I’m waiting to be smiled on By lady luck via lottery ticket Everything is worth something And everyone wants to get it America is like a plate With nothing but crumbs on it Where gray clouds And dark skies may loom But one ray of hope can change the tune America is like a cup Filled enough for someone but for others half full And filled enough so that some remain thirsty In America

From the digital Ebook titled “The Dark truth and little White lies” by Enfantu Raa

#original prose#literature#musings#poetry#words#prose and poetry#poems#poems and words#quotes#spilled thoughts#writings#the dark truth and little white lies