The Flat Screen Pulpit

I was mischievously distracted by how the news channel always seems to throw in slanted information into the news. This night I had been thrown off guard by some real information and then remembered the source and was amazed at how well they mix real news with propaganda as to catch and hold the viewer. In addition to making people believe what they say is true – both propaganda and news. But these people have the gift of gab and they use it to their advantage creating truly no overall good unfortunately, but why should they care. Here is a poem about it. Cheers!

Delicately selecting to preach by mouth rather than feet

Sitting on a box on the wooden table

The flat screen pulpit drawing people in with images

To be seen

No significant or deliberate meaning to the words spoken

Crazy fool must be joking

Speaking cotton falling from the mechanic moving mouth

For the masses to walk on

Treading hard on a wiry path

Writhing through city streets and dense forests

The breathe he laments into the open air

Casting spells on the trances eyes

Watching

Eagerly

To see every move

Every word

Spreading fowl spirits

Reckless on the delicate evening mess

If only he would silence his accusations

Resume to the news and useful practical information

That can inform rather than entertain

A challenge he may not maintain

The Salesman of Song

The Salesman of Song

Born to the middle class

They called him Joe

Full of talent

Full of song

Bringing to life

People’s wishes and thoughts

Make people cry or laugh

Whatever he sought

Growing up he took it so lightly

Musicians were not like him

Seemed to flighty

Years had passed

The pressure had grown

To make some money

Have some kids

Own a home

Through all he had been taught

All he had learned about

Never had the nerve

To sing his way out

See what songwriting could earn

So he went to school and got a degree

Went on to teach middle school until he was 53

Then came the recession

The ugly layoffs

He got caught up in the process

Now he had no job

His paycheck is much less

Would push a mower with his hands

Making sure the kids were fed

Keeping steady the natural family plan

Took out a loan and went back to school

No one ever thought this man a fool

Earned a PHD

Still struggling to find what he wants to be

He writes books on religion

Sells them at the doorstep

He knows that he missed

Stumbled when he could have leapt

He just writes songs on the side

Did it all along

Never had faith to make a living

Writing a song

He sells the idea to the young generation

Asking people for help

Feels the weight of procrastination

In a hole so deep

Playing songs so beautiful to the ear

But no singing can anyone hear

He is too old to try out new tunes

Wants to pay off the house and retire soon

He clearly knows years ago

Where it all went wrong

All that is left

Is the Salesman of Song

Shit My World is on Fire

Video

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VZ9BhsYX4FU&feature=youtu.be

Here is a song that I wrote about how sometimes you let things go just a bit too long in your life before you decide that something has to be done. In a similar fashion as to that one time I was in college and left the pizza in the oven and forgot about it. I take a light hearted look at what an angel could do in that moment also – how it would really help because when shit hits the roof – you could definitely use some help in getting life back in order. So this is called “Shit My World is on Fire”. Enjoy!

Shit My World is on Fire

Well I’ve been thinking

About all this time up here

I’ve been wasting

The thing I do and say

Well I am no Angel

But if you see on please

Send her my way

She can save me from all of the trouble

I’ve been making

It would be so much fun

I’m just sayin’

Whoa oh oh

I look around and

Shit!

My world is on fire

Who oh oh

I can make it out

But only with an angel

Whoa oh oh

Look around and see

She can only take me higher

Whoa oh oh

Drink in that sun

My world is on fire!

That got me thinking

When God made this world

She was kinda funny

Now I am just running around now

Making Monday

But there ain’t no way

It ain’t that easy

Just take me and break me destroy me and build me up later

Take a quick minute and pass me

Your lifesaver!

Whoa oh oh

I look around and

Shit!

My world is on fire

Who oh oh

I can make it out

But only with an angel

Whoa oh oh

Look around and see

She can only take me higher

Whoa oh oh

Drink in that sun

My world is on fire!

Whoa oh oh

I look around and

Shit!

My world is on fire

Who oh oh

I can make it out

But only with an angel

Whoa oh oh

Look around and see

She can only take me higher

Whoa oh oh

Drink in that sun

My world is on fire!

Oh my world is on Fire

Fire

Fire

Oh my world is on

Fire

Fire

My world is on fire

 

I hope to have more videos and songs up with descriptions soon so stay tuned. I am casually working on a possible full length album as my first commitment is The Bergamot. A Pop/Rock duo and we play with a full 6 piece band so we can have killer dance parties. Check us out and listen to our entire catalog of work at http://www.thebergamot.com! Cheers!

A Floral Confit or Rose Scented Turpentine

Pink and green

Seaweed green

Sunset pink

With a cup of water to drink

Bent glass in subtle ways

The beauty lasts for only days

Velvet touch

Burnt under glow

Pedal gentle

Summer tone

Resting peacefully

Under gravity’s pull

Drink the water

Until the stem is full

Grasping life

With both hands

Passing time

With falling sand

The clock calls out

With subtle hues

But brings great joy

Until it’s time is due

But with beauty laughter

And laughter joy

Summers gift

Nature’s toy

Time is not infinite

Space not confined

Rose scented turpentine

Joy and fresh

These are the treats

From the flower blooms

Upon eyes a floral confit

The Incandescent Glow

I can tell a story of distracting things

It starts with a computer screen

A little heart and a big machine

Pulling the eyes away from progress

To give the soul infinite distress

This mess is more than a simple collection

If it serves me correctly

I have what the doctors call

A technological infection

Of the mind and skin

Hair and eyes

Kinda hard to see into the digital skies

It moves slowly but then with clever purpose

You would never know if you looked at the surface

But the eyes become strained with every glance

I must try to pull away in this eager chance

In a trance my muscles begin to twitch

In evenings embrace

Face the truth and furry

That time has been stolen in such a hurry

Fingers nimble to touch keys resisting

A couple of circuits and boards

That’s all that’s in this thing

But is there more just maybe a bit

Because it seems to move me when I sit

Through years and years of information

It is a gazing ball

A wonder station

But pull the mind away from sweet laziness

Yet it pulls me back with a lovers caress

Soothes my thoughts and relaxes my feelings

Illuminating what is around me

And casting incandescent light on the ceiling

Reeling and reeling

I am surely swayed but the drug this things dealing

Eyes bloodshot on every side

Who would of thought

Wasn’t this supposed to be a simple ride

A ride through information past and present

With the ease of touch and oh so pleasant

But surely there is more than one option

Get away from this infection I am stopping

Songs must be written and collected

My art will not sustain me

I must go now

The art must be resurrected

But at the flip of a switch

Turn of a knob

The computer is off and silent

The incandescent glow ceases

And the quietness around me grows

I close my eyes and rub them open

That must be some crazy shit

I be smokin’