Posts tagged ‘drinking’

July 23, 2014

At the beach (Cedar South)

At the beach,

this burnt sand desert;
tan,
beyond feet,
hot!
dig underneath.

Swimming lake water to avoid the heat,
people lazing on towels,
hiding beer cans
attempt save discrete.

Plants sharp as knives while walking with bare-feet.

At the beach
At the beach

Sex parts covered by diaphanous cloth,
where we sit with wandering thought lost.

Sunscreen smells,
lax notion,
rubbing lotions,
discussion minced, quiet commotion-

ride, bipedal, or car from the city to the streets to meet,

at the beach
at the beach.

June 30, 2014

Certainty

Death, a certainty in life
Just one…

Gut-rot hung-over
Dirt in sleepy eyes

Then the rain came;
Drained,
Growth sustained.

Death, a certainty in life
Just one…

Changes as the clouds in the sky

Once tried
Once tried

No more

Certainly.

June 17, 2014

Lock and Dam No. 7

On a boat close an expansive dam
A boy accompanied an Old Man
Fishing for hours cold hands
Only to have come up few clams

The river remained rough
Water spray wet brown splash
Bubbles in the water swirling
Bottom of boat held beer cans

Farther up the boy could see birds
Up close to the tumblers brightly red
Over white-caps exchanged few words
The Old Man palmed his rod in hand

Lock and Dam 7 lent no pension
Yet many prospered in its wake
The Old Man and the boy lay patient
They trolled up and down, but had to wait

Ice coated concrete walls
With rope or hook they fastened tight
Daylight lasted only so long in afternoons
The highway lights suggested night

Untying they came undone
River smell and worms in hand
The fish on the stringer were meager
Pushing off they went towards land

They passed others by and by
Anglers that were mastered
Coming closer to the landing point
Lights on avoiding disaster

Trailing wake in full gait
An out-board went ‘bout 20 knots
Blackness and bugs flew by about them
As they came closer to the docks

Lamplight held empty parking lot
Shown just below the river’s edge
The flat-bottom came parallel the wooden structure
The boy managed at his sea legs

With a hard bump from running in fast
A rope was fastened—quick, and down
The boat made way with the water
The boy made feet with wooden ground

Cold rushed from the river valley out
Nothing held the boy more in life
Than to be out near the Mighty Mississippi
In the dwindling hours of night

As children we are exposed to habits which prove a tradition
As adults we revisit those events to see what lessons were given.

May 14, 2014

Fear Faith

Levity of ponderance
Crushed sand in place
Calculated words of elegance
Make hay or make haste—

She said she was afraid
Though there is nay to fear
She said this in so many ways
Speech fell upon delicate ears

Now,
I am afraid
That people are afraid
That they have something to be afraid of,
But why worry?

May 5, 2014

Pre-Game Summer (Mayday 2014)

Of early summer days, at the parade:

When late hands adorn grease and dirt,
Evidence produced of work and worth.

Beer stains on shirt-
What’s worse?

A face tight from sun bright;
Fried,
Sun-burnt,

Smile with deep lazy pride,
A good hurt.

Rode through
Commuting by
What exercise?
What a great time.

Things not done in winter,
Don’t think of that,

–Think of that.

Minnesotans had become bitter;
Different,
Now back.

In groups we relax.

Clear skies managed weather apropos for on-the-go.

Outside,
Midday,
Mayday,

Until night

With the cricket songs
And the crowds gone

We ride our way back,
And wake with the morning light.

May 3, 2014

Performance Art near Bryant-Lake Bowl

Jägermeister and biers
Then kicked out to the street
We were there for a bit
Then we had to leave

Flew round at sun-down
In scintillated light
Flew down for the evening
I was riding my bike

On Portland Ave.
They exclaim
They might see me

On Portland Ave.
I came
Wheels beneath me

Oh the drunk bastard is dry
Give him his rye
Oh that fucker; mean guy
Let sleeping dogs lie

He is less than me;
His reality is obscene
He is not next to me
He is underneath

Oh, Oh, Oh, and so on…

–No description at all,
None to recall
Was he fat or fit?
Was he thick-haired or bald?

Who judges this person?
Who judges discretely- who calls?
What you see with your eyes
Is described differently by us all

What company we keep
What of those we meet
Was it a pleasant surprise?
Or a disappointment in the least-

Again I sit with local celebrities
I have to ask pressing questions
Are names just minor discrepancies?
Are they darlings for our attention?

Goodbye Auf Wiedersehen
On to new situations
On the street forward making
On to splendid occasions

To Bryant-Lake Bowl
In a car we drove
For a stroll, for a go
Exposing deeply our souls

In reddened pale light
A girl died one night
This scene of present sight:
Some mixed up fight

Blurred pictures remain
No date and no name
Was a crying shame
We drank that day

Now we look
Broken on the curb
A collapsed man
Drunk and absurd

Too blind to stand tall
Not at all looking proud
He had something to say
Thick mumbling aloud

We walked towards and down
His adversaries stood over
We watched stepping around
While still moving closer

Blood on the street;
He on the ground
Level with feet
He made a pitiful sound

A bald man in cahoots
Was reciting him his lesson
2 men were to explain
Their benign intentions

Questions of: “Did you strike him first?”
What’s the story?
“Have you done cocaine tonight?”
Boy! Don’t you ignore me!

He was obviously not sober
After a few inspections
Words weren’t coming out right
Aphasia for reflection

They stood at the door; shoulder to shoulder
He: a sad pile of bones in a suit sat
Looking younger rather than older
We 3 strolled along light hitting as we passed

Waiting for a taxi cab
The 2 guys had to explain
One of them shouted,
“He said he had AIDS!”

“He blew blood our way!”
There he lay in subdued shock and dismay
He could not get up
So there he would stay

Now no one touched him
Confused little looks
They went about their business
Scot-free lucky crooks

Moved by this art
The blood drops dark red
Spread thick while inches apart
Trail of liquid which lead

A few more steps
And we were at the door
We took our seats
After chair legs screeched the floor

In most of my glory
Contemplation of sport
Of what we had seen
I was staring straight, completely absorbed

How did I get here again?
And what the fuck just happened?
:
Man in his stasis; we’ve likely had these days
It’s 20/20 vision to talk of others in such ways.
;
I don’t know what you do,
And I don’t care
.
That’s where I was,
I was there.

May 2, 2014

How to: Career Planning

Gold ring found had been nearly drown
Old times from past, histories step to advance
Trees walk among the least, from Sauron they flee
The brave stand their ground as the weak bow down. -OTS

How to Make (Do)

Here I sit at the bar
Not contemplating life
Not outlining my day
Not drinking away my night

Here I sit at the bar
Long faces gather round
Supping dry liquors
Some clear and some brown

Drawing on politics
How the world spins round
Group caste of another knit
Supply far distance around town

Before the sun has long gone
Or merchant door fast locked
They show a gaze forlorn
Of the have and have-nots

The old they say:
Go not to school
But make hay
Education is for indebted and feckless fools, they claim

I’ve polished the boot
I’ve washed piled dishes
I’ve stacked up dirty loot
Backroom illegitimate kitchens

I’ve been told what to do
What to think and how to move
I’ve gone full circle to prove
The importance in abandonment of marionette rule

One surprised at how life takes place
Scholarly alterations of changing ways
They say make haste- time is not to waste
Lest become pastiche of those with taste

People, they talk and they chat
Reacting as they can to this and that
Doing little for much complaint
Devising no real plan of attack

Again, at the bar I sit
Reflection on past
I drink to the good life
To others I say, “Relax, only just act.”

They are merely talking when they say they are making plans
Lips move grand ideas but what movement do they place in their hands?

***

The loudest people with the best ideas
Have nothing to do, and so much to fear.

Excerpt:

Only to enhance our frowns
Taken care of by indebted future lot
It comes with major threats and frets
Stuck in made plans, yet to disband they have not.

April 25, 2014

Espresso Royale Observation

Leathered Leaves holding residence
Of standing in pots of dirt in present
These structures capturing the eyes
Outlined fine disguised greyed skies
Boxed and boarded in this casement
Of the light opposed save debasement
Terrarium rest the inquisitive patients
Along the observation deck, gauging at situation.

March 14, 2014

On the Balcony with Love (at the Kitty Cat Club)

On the Balcony with Love

By Terry Scott Niebeling

 

Outside of the house

Watching droplets all

They bounce up in the sun

Lit sparkling they fall

 

Sunlight how nice

Made an ass of self

For getting after my girl

On account of my fault

 

Amber transparency

Whiskey glass fixed

In a cold dark corner

Full beer can of tricks

 

Bikers sit in the light

Talking weather and trash

They deliver their product

They careen as they pass

 

Balcony noise raindrops loud

Cars go by, and up, and around

Melt snow liquid moves splashing through

University sign scrawled illuminated blue

 

Machine gun fire streams

They fall from above

Perspiring from the heavens

Yellow orb showing love

 

Sit sip this splendid thought

Read and ponder this springtime hot.

March 5, 2014

The Death of Ruby Red

I cut her deep, was a small feat

Her pink shown light orange mingled red flesh

 

I peeled her skin exposed her meat

Her, beautiful orb-cracked, torn, limp, was dead

 

Her innards spray juice-sluiced, hot heat

Her life, close to expire, was in threat

 

This grapefruit I eat

Fact–

I express no regret.

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