Oh what questionable distractions
Attractive as first glance
Quaint and uneasy
Under examined
The sun
The sky
The moon lit nights
Palm trees
Oh the goodness of distraction
The fruitfulness of sanity
Returned from a distant place
Now and again
My distracted zen
I’ve got Google problems
The search engine is number one
One and done
From the top of the tabloids
Now completely undone
Trying to find a home
Amidst the lonely internet roam
Roaming the wires of the pages
Behind the sanskrit and the weary
Continuing through ethernets so dreary
I have a google problems
But I am not trying to solve them
Honestly
I am not sure there is much honesty
Left
To the right of a circus
To the left we are certain
What are we in the middle
Just these regular people
There is little left that can give
Hope or energy
Homeland Security or Department of Energy
It becomes one big blur on a fuzzy TV
The sum of two people is now the we
From our perspective this gerrymandering is nothing
Fun to see
Absolutely
Ridiculously
Brash and unheard
I plead the third
But no combination of words can equal
Such great show buisness
As the one before or the sequel
A soapy sky
Filled with bubbles
Falling all over our heads
Dust embroiled with steam
Dirts downstream
Is there a way to filter the air
With giant cotton towels
Air filters deconstructed paper towels
Can we pull out the weeds and scrub the sky
Like giant wind turbines reducing the pollution
It is a weak gesture
But a possible solution
A soapy sky calls us back
And we force it to voicemail
Seize the spotlight
Adhere to the mission
Don’t give up or else
We all would be wishing
When all partisan rancor is clanging
The bald eagle will be left singing
To pull the curtains
And seize the spotlight
Here comes the surge
The mass deportations
Unappropriated funds
Irresponsible ones
Lead the charge
Lines seen dominating the headlines
How can we not at least take a chance
To try and dissect or understand
What is happening now so routinely
Across this land
There are battles being fought daily
In every moment yet our eyes and hearts can turn
Bland
This one orange toned man
Has no sense of humility or true plan
No one can understand this blight
We now deal with it everywhere in sight
I just open the papers and pour out the news
This is our land
And our land to lose
Seed the truth
With loads of premium ice
Low and cold
Freezing
Sing out in imperfect harmony
Rung out from a towering bell
A momentous part of me
Drinking a cup of hot coffee
Seed the what is true
Pull what is not
Pivot for the brand new
What can be the difference
Between a guitar and a grape
One of consumption
One of art
These grapes of old times
Quaint yet stupid
These grapes fall on an early morning
Yet guitars play late into the night
One withers while the other sustains
While I long for the life of a guitar
I wonder of the sweetness of grapes
Run and duck
We may be stuck
Diplomatic wheels turning
Engine burning
We run low on gas
Late on details
It seems if the cart shakes
More
We will be off the rails
So we shimmy on
On and on
We
Plug along
The intrusion of delusion
Sets itself apart
By itself
Is quite a confusion
Look over here while I adjust this light
Walk a little more to the right
While I grab this pen
Magical intent
Disturbing ends
These games know no boundaries
Have gained such evil intent
An interpretation of truth
Easily becomes the golden standard
Not quite sure where our judgment lies
So we must see with our own eyes
Judge with our own minds
The age of spoon fed politics
Is a bygone time
A Cup of Songwriting 