Puzzles And “These Are Trump Days” (Song)

It’s an unprecedented time, well at least for our current. There have been many more “unprecedented” times before this. But this unrest and the pain that comes with it, a lot of anger, a lot of unnecessary loss, a lot of fuck you to whoever you can say fuck you to, a lot of sadness is just ours now. Man, this all makes the brain a jumble, a trying to grab the puzzle pieces that fall astray while attempting to fit them into borders that no longer exist, no reference to fill out the middle, no picture on the box, borders bending and swaying on their own now, getting larger or shrinking depending on the day or the latest news cycle, creating their own little universe of new puzzle that doesn’t adhere to any norm you were accustomed to and not in a good way. Surreal is too easy to say, too easy to use saying “surreal” as a way to justify but then pass off, “Oh, this is just so surreal Karen, now can we just move on and did you catch how I just used “surreal” … is Glenda’s open yet? My nails are fried”

I’m angry, I’m “motherfucking” everything upside down and sideways on a daily basis these days, rightways, leftways, at the dumb and the senselessness we have taken to as a new normal but trying my best to at least not have it affect me and the girls. This is my bit of whatever perfect might be. Will it last? Of course not, but it’s a good now.

I am writing what I do with the girls right here, they are MY normal. There are pickups and laps, distractions that remind, rubs of my Bella’s ears or Cricket the Blind’s belly or Mimi the Quirky’s back that makes her flinch …and stretch. They are the best of these welcome distractions.

A good friend, colleague, one who I sent a draft of this to earlier, said to me, declining my tune listen, “my soul is weary. I need to feed myself healthy, nutritious positivity. Even satire takes from me…it doesn’t help me right now”.

Point.

And apologies.

I responded back that I can be a glutton of anger just with a keyboard and a microphone. But I also left a small bag of cat treats on her desk for her “Bea”. It’s small but I got a thumbs on that, a paws up more specifically.  It seems sometimes all ya need is a paw of approval “Hey, if only a little thing like some cat treats brightens the world, your small one, like the same cat treats in my own small, then job well done”.

But things are still out there.

There doesn’t seem to be any real brighter right now.

I still anger.

If you’ve read here at all, can’t really be concerned if you haven’t I guess, what am I gonna do, but if you’re here right now, at these very words, then Ok, thank you. I still go on, as this is a just me, and you probably know that I took to singing a little while ago. Not necessarily very well but that’s not the point. The point is that I HAVE a point and a voice, that anger at least having an outlet, one I just like better with accompaniment and new sharp words I hope you find to be on spot, a voice I want to make to make sure is heard, well, if anyone pays a visit that is, even a few. At least know it’s out there to be so.

The Attic isn’t a bad place by the way, it has it’s moments, just mind your head … and your feet, especially if they are bare. Cricket the Blind is quite the litter kicker.

 

Couple of other post links of recent’s in this tuneful vein …

It Was a Dead Day

Hittin’ the Ahhh’s (An Eleanor Rigby Take)

You Can Call Me King

 

 

These Are Trump Days

Once upon a time there was a nation

A proud one come about but fraught with pain

Of dealing with an oh so shameful histr’y

A one that doesn’t seem to want to change

 

These are Trump days my friend

We pray there’ll be an end

As we dance now beneath jackbooted feet

We try to have our say

But are tear gassed away

These are Trump days yes sadly they’re trump days

 

La La La La La La La

Won’t you get off my neck

Oh momma please I need ya momma please

 

And now the matter’s gotten so much bleaker

Not better as you’d hope histr’y would learn

And presidents who should be our uniters

Instead opt to take messianic turns

 

These are Trump days my friend

Please God help make them end

I cannot breathe my eyes they want to bleed

We tried to have our say

For light to lead the way

But it’s Trump days, we’re lost amid Trump days

 

La La La La La La La

Won’t you get off my neck

Oh momma please I need ya momma please

 

He stood in the Rose garden claimed alliance

With pro-testers on a peaceful go

But then he strapped on his small orange jackboots

went for a walk to turn this into show

 

These are Trump days my friend

Please God ya have to send

An angel’s mercy on our hapless lot

Who just want things to change but cannot in this age

These are Trump days, he won’t allow the ways

 

La La La La La La La

Won’t you get off my neck

Oh momma please I need ya momma please

 

La La La La La La La

Please just get off his neck

His momma wants to see her son again

 

There comes a day where me must be deciders

Of fate that’s dark continued going back

Or a one that tries to move us forward

Something that is more than just attack

 

These … are … Trump … days my friend

Heavens please help us mend

Help us push back on tyrants on the roam

To help us save the weak

Knees under cannot speak

These are Trump days, the devil’s in Trump days

 

La La La La La La La

Won’t you get off my nec

Oh momma please I need ya momma please

 

La La La La La La La

Please just get off his neck

These mommas want to see their sons again

 

 

2 thoughts on “Puzzles And “These Are Trump Days” (Song)

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