The waters of uncertainty crash on our shores
A briny sea beckons questions
The love of beauty
The fear of death
Wrapped up in a single wave
Seafoam gentle and curdled
Up on the shores of our land
The tide of uncertainty has rolled in
One hour late
But is here to stay
Here to stay
An uncertain tide
Has rolled our way
More fighting
Is it really needed
We are all tired
When we heard the call
And headed
Now more brutality
I thought we were headed
To civility
Goodness dear friends
What happened to us politically
Socially
When is the contest over
And the collaboration begin
When can we have forgiveness
For all of our vulgar sins
Not today I guess
As all hopes of civility
Renewed and put to the test
What in the world
Strength throw dumbbells curled
Javelin hurled
Bench press thrust
Is this a must
Such poor word selection
Power hard
Fast and furious
This leaves more to be curious
Than resolved
Our new mantra to be debated
While people in our country are confiscated
Why such ignorance and clamor
Why the subtle glamor
Celebrating the courageous politicians
Who are much more to be pitied
With blame
Gut the ethics!
Renew the clashes
I want to hide $50 bills
Underneath white mustaches
Purge the homeless
But protect their babies
We will burn our way through
Leave the individuals feeling hotter
But no medicare in their 80’s
Pursue big oil with dirty hands
Make new faces in the Klan
Instill fear and vanquish hope
Drop it in the ocean with ball and rope
Here comes the new government
Ready to take the country
So start hiding your hope
And your money
Gut the ethics
Cut the semantics
Just political buffoonery
Ideal tactics
The individual can only hope
That no one can dash our hope
With a 10 cent rope
But either way here we go
I cry cowardly over my leather shoes
The moan of hateful speech
Beacons a new wrath
The exotic clover has grown
Dried up and shriveled
Bequeathed
For the next generation
A sensational generation
My hope and dream
So I do my part in planting hope and optimism
Even in this world of ever deep division
Our hopes and dreams
Bequeathed from our fathers and mothers
Have been squandered away
On cheap things
How can dust exist in such plethora
Consuming humans in black filth
Penetrating apartments with stealth
What is the creator
The destroyer
Yet it plooms from every
Vehicle brimming black and burdened
From the backs of trucks
Tossed lightly into the air
To begin it journey
Destination unknown
Yet it flies just softly enough
Through the screens
Into our homes
Where it land
Collects friends
Possibly propagates
Until we have the motivation to cleanse
Purging our home from such creations
Out the shoot
And back into the circle
Of the dust migration
Planes circle overhead
Outside dust stained windows
Bustling people away and close
Making their way from coast
To coast
On the ground cars rage honking
Swirling
Speeding
People walking
Talking
Thinking
Ignoring
We hold hands
Weaving through the crowds
With subtle plans
We think
We can
We hope
We plan
In New York
No second guess
No delay
Or deferred progress
But I sit wondering
Looking at the planes overhead
Shuffling the people around the world
New York to LA
In clear light
Late in March
On a sunny day
Thoughts floating indistinct
Finding ears receiving
While some short lived
Fall extinct
Sweet carmel swift
Fall on noses
Scent drift
Bitters produce taste
Lingering strong
Keeping minds wake
Moving
All night long
Greenpoint and Williamsburg
Making friends among strangers
While coffee drips
Testing the hot draw
With tender lips
Small sips we grow
Ideas bloom
From the cold ground
With the melting snow
Tucked in a borough of NYC
They will find us
Locked eyes
You and me
Let’s take a look at the headlines
The twitter feeds
Handles and Hashtags
Feeling a bit out of line
What is coming through the feed line
The umbilical chord of information
Keeping me alive
As my eyes read over every line
Some clowns grab the main light
Stage set for them just right
No need to worry for talent or something new
Just get naked and run around for a few
Headlines running from each side of the States
Somehow I can no longer see straight
To the headlines falling off the page
From computers and newpapers
Wasted on the futile
Infertile information trying to impregnate my mind
With nothing more than wasted time
And energy
Just trying to read head news line
A Cup of Songwriting 