Archive for October, 2013

October 30, 2013

Media Scandal (Print Shit)

Just up the stairs.

Just down the hall.

Just out the door.

Written on all the walls.

 

Above the low.

Below the Glow.

Until the sun explodes.

We grow into tight repose.

 

Reading, shuffling our eyes;

Mundane, lacking keywords-no surprise.

 

Across the bridge.

Through eyelids and grins.

Ink like squids, afraid.

 

Made up like kids in past days.

 

Read, we’ve skimmed,

Looking for what interests her or him,

Between ads and shit.

Everyone is a witness.

Definitive and absolute on a whim.

 

Vicious id.

Have we truly lived?

 

Overdue when dead.

Leak like sieve, what gives?

All the articles we’ve read.

 

I’ve said.

 

Keeping my head on whilst trying to get fed.

Believing not what the paper’s black print bled.

 

I forgot the daily toilet pages, lest save dread.

Above all, those who remember are intentionally misled.

 

What do they print now-a-days?

What a waste, where’s the good nature?

Empty-headed straight-forward space-case, ready to put you in your place.

 

News Flash: External Cost, all we’ve lost in the name of being current, avoiding danger.

Newspaper Make-up: Corporation, Ads, Assumptions, and naive strangers.

 

Take up logic and stop it…

I usually read more than one.

October 28, 2013

Blue Sky Float By

Guten Tag:

 

We spoke in intrusive sunlight of lacking shade.

We spoke of latter days.

We spoke anyway.

 

Yoga attire balanced high wire; elegance at foot, gracefully placed.

The looks that took.

 

Buses and bikes passed, and stopped, as cars drove on.

 

Dew covered leaves, bright colors scatter the green grass ground,

Only to break, crush, and turn brown, all spinning around.

 

When asked about this conversation I said I didn’t know.

There was no answer,

to no question.

 

Somethings just mentioned.

 

One can liken it to the blue sky; no sum, just something beautiful, an entity floating by.

 

Lessons we learn on the whim of a wave of attention.

Moving as fleeting dust from fluttering sparrow wingspan.

Trivial sorts affection.

 

A dram of logic,

Stop this human project.

 

As we walk and flow through others,

On separate paths,

We have but such a chance to interact.

 

The total might be intrigue indeed, ask and you shall see.

GERN.

Ich mag Diskussionnen.

October 23, 2013

bad day etc.

 

Trying to feel as though I’m not under the weather.

 

Whether for ill or for better.

 

Love letters scribed by loyal setters:

We long for our health.

 

Wine stained teeth and free range beef.

Headache, sick pains, and cold feet.

 

Rain, snow, or sleet,

Each night we tire ourselves over sleep.

 

And in the morning we wake with a leap.

 

Startled sound alarm clock.

As wood floors creek and retreat.

 

Not all was lost;

We found time.

 

What kind of day was it?

I can’t tell….

One night of fun can turn a whole weekend to hell…

 

There are plenty more in stock.

As if we are so drunk; we pretend we forgot.

October 22, 2013

Abend Dinner Meal (Prose)

Salmon, white-hot pink rested on chipped acrylic plates, pastel-teal.

Martini, extra dry extra dirty, accompanied all in the room;

Three dull green olives eyes red pupils watched all scruple.

 

Oven heat at feet, at present; that is, comfort warmth about air pleasant.

Words, gestures, chairs, centered, a yellow table all sat.

To speak of salt, pepper, beer, near a sink, straight-up utensils; bowls, cups, cutting boards adorned and dripping, dish rack; as is, fore and after, stacked.

 

Beautiful view from the window, looking glass thru to beyond, may find that no one looks back.

Outside cold; the only company we lack.

Empty seats, forks, spoons, and glass.

 

And we are satisfied while distant radio plays a score.

Another day, pills stuck in the back of my throat sore.

Was that last night?

October 21, 2013

Morning Read (Just the Leaves)

Morning Read,

Rain wasn’t coming down cats and dogs, but it was discouraging none the less.

Biking up Como to St. Paul from Marcy Holmes had to be done,

This commute remained a process before a process.

 

Water spray wet and cold,  pedaling made difficult two-fold by the amount of cigarettes smoked.

 

Fallen leaves foretold a story foretell as fall had happened, autumn was here.

Four seasons, all was in order well.

 

This time, the travel had served a purpose, dreary Sunday morning.

 

***

 

Just the Leaves, 

 

They float on air from a branch,

To river below,

Through states in a watery escape,

Their colors all aglow.

October 18, 2013

Lab Text 101713 (Daily Prose)

Coffee as pretext to events.

Stay awake on this date.

 

Wasteful thinking; none such-

Linking the unlinkable…

 

Chained to changed up.

 

Drinking from a hot stained cup.

 

Holding posture proper.

 

Nothing but love.

 

Finding resources through resourcefulness.

Logic, commonsense,

Like twopence we forget when bent, but if we wait…

 

Here in this filled computer lab I sit.

 

Some day it could be too late. Trying the best I can to give a shit about making lists and the weather brisk. Someday it might change, or remain the same, with that the date won’t stay.

Time slips away anyway.

How will we know unless we take risks-not just exist.

 

Some find it practical while happy to complain. Defaced, deranged, disfigured, and feeling strange. Some, in the latter state can bring a smile to their face and chase away the rain.

 

Some have taste.

Some have dreams, they keep pace.

 

Some remain in the same place and pray, while others fill their briefcase with gold flakes.

 

Cold mornings, hot spells, what the hell? The difference is quantitative only to subjective measures. Pleasures of our endeavors. We think we are clever. Pressure. Presumably, we watch their eyes.

 

Small things: Pulling an acorn from a tree, taking photos of leaves at feet, then calling both ART-at the very least.

 

And then no one answers,

 

Forget it.

October 15, 2013

Confusion at Best (Around Town)

Confusion at Best,

By Terry Scott Niebeling

 

I send out the same message to everyone I know,

To no effect,

To be similar to you,

So you won’t forget.

I do this just as long as we can grow.

 

It takes place probably somewhere between Coffman Union and Marcy Holmes.

 

This act is redundant proof,

Enough thought to write tomes.

 

And the stuff we are all made of,

Like a warm place where we actually write poems.

 

This is like biking from Northeast to the Turf Club.

-Counting the stars above.

 

Hell Bent as Heaven Sent, stare on bold reader.

These pages are wet with regret and eager.

How we are:  pressing the buttons, blackening the pages, and living life so meager.

 

This is in the Downtown High-rises and next to the St. Anthony Main Theatre features.

 

I bet you don’t even know of the Multi-Verse yet.

But there are so many artists, poets, and musicians, how could you forget?

October 14, 2013

What if I Shut Down?

What if I Shut Down?

By Terry Scott Niebeling

 

What if I shut down?

 

The world will go on with or without me.

Those I’ve let down will no longer frown or doubt me.

Most will believe as they renounce my legacy with glee,

And pull apart what defense surrounds me.

 

What if I shut down?

 

Where you stand won’t change hands,

All will move about free.

 

What if I shut down?

 

Don’t mind the voice (barking television bobble-heads).

End the Fed, they say, but how can you kill what is already dead?

…  We just have to smell the rotting flesh, ready the grave, and off with its head!

 

What if I shut down?

 

This is post-logical, history for news, as they struggle, argue, blame, conclude, and abuse.

Others research, read, and consume truth.

 

What if I shut down?

 

We all sound the same to ourselves.

Are we all fools?

Do we play by the rules?

 

Who is in charge of the pens and papers?

Who is teaching this and that in the schools?

 

True to form, honest doubt;

Questions we have within, and without.

 

I can’t believe such thoughts and ideas compounding, likewise confounding, without viable and realistic results.

But don’t worry, I won’t ask you to cite your source, and to be fair, I won’t ask myself.

 

What if I shut down?

 

I am not like Uncle Sam; he is more indebted than I.

He is not like me; I have unfiltered eyes.

 

What if I shut down?

 

I will be depressed and broke and still move forward in a more positive way.

In my best attempts I try to hide my remorse, of course.

I see a vast life of possibilities on the blank page, but they can’t even come to an office on the same day to make change.

October 13, 2013

On a Rock I Set

Wind blows cold
so I reach for my hat.

Blue skies and clouds above;
forthcoming sunset.

On a rock I set.
Beer to forget.

Much on my plate,
But I already ate.
Never take me away from this place.

On a rock I set.
A dried-up flood-plain, refuse and sediment.

I am okay here because no one is near.
Just myself, distant noise, wind, fishermen, birds, clouds, and the sunset.

On a rock I set-

Close to the Mighty Mississippi.

Times like this there is nothing to fret.

Relax.

On a rock I set.

October 11, 2013

Alternative Transit

Alternative Transit,

By Terry Scott Niebeling

 

How pleasant travel moves my eyes,

Through a wooded forest in SE Minneapolis to my surprise,

 

Sunshine in the day, some will hardly realize;

Sights we pass along this ride.

 

Past vacant Fair grounds with the brightest of blue skies.

A wise man once told me the secret to long life is about walking and using your mind.

 

A transit I had not thought possible, now I go too.

How do you get around, I have to ask you.

 

As many take their personal independent gas-guzzling wagons, others, > take a more proactive approach.

 

I hear people say,

“I can’t,

I won’t,

It’s impossible,

I just don’t.”

These minor things, inconveniences they call obstacles.

Look at me; I am sure it’s untrue-this is plausible.

 

They ride day to day, every place, here and there, every which way.

All helter-skelter, running from the weather for shelter,

It kind of adds excitement to your day.

This adds greater perspective, by adding a different way.

 

Bike, walk, run, wander, hike, bus, or taxi today.

 

So much of the city is hidden from the safe and possessive view of your four-wheeled all going vehicle.

Most won’t welcome change,

Even if it is just a little.

 

 

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