Posts tagged ‘Social Media’

June 9, 2014

How do you “know” Love?

People don’t “know” love,
Love is unknowable.

It is a feeling:
Labeled
Assumed
Interpreted
And acted upon.

You are the love you make,
No labels
No others
No excuses
No blames

Just that.

Love:
If it is shit, it is because it was made as such
If it is the best, it is because it was made as such

If you love, then “know”
If you “know”, then love

People assume too much; age, race, and gender have nothing to do with love,
Inside is where it comes.

How’s your love today?

***

If the only thing your love stands for is status on social media your love is lacking…
***
Children speak of love as fantasy,
Adults speak of love as comfort and trust.
What’s the dichotomy?
So, what’s the rush?

 

If it’s broken, look in a mirror.

April 28, 2014

Hipster Trivia at the 331 Club

Traffic lights outside
Squared off streets we ride
Orange glow comes to eyes
Promoting fun inside

Progression riding electric tracks
Now new Prius mounted bike racks
To tires, to gas; of metal and glass
Varying vehicles pass; blurred mass

Two Towns as one; this Twin Cities
Biked them apart in nights- winds against me

Horseshoes hit pavement in the mist of flown pigeons
Spanned bricks and mortar, riverfronts lain nigh bridges

Talking loudly with crass; assumed trite little facts
Old times we tell ourselves not to look back

At great heights we don’t look for cracks
At the bottom we look up and react

A smile;
Could be the start
Of a beautiful frown,
Or vise versa.
….  Or really dumb words…

To the street to the beach
To the liquor store first
On two feet in the sleet
Bright-sunned winters; make hurt

Not like sun burn
Pinked enough to learn
Thrown thoughts of concern to the birds
Know the fish by the worms, in other words

On the bar with “local celebrities”
I have to ask, “Where are they at?”
So many people who are dead to me
The meaningful discussions they attract

Flash those few a fat front row
Wait for a single beer, find seats for the show
She said she writes for Revolver, things like that
She said just put “hipster” in the title for hits, fact.

You learn something new every day.

March 11, 2014

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead Dead

Full shoes rock smuggler

In the basement before dirt

Hopscotch walk muddler

Parted smirk with mirth

 

In a place with no character

We (they) find a shiny coin

 

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern

Are insignificant to a point

 

No spokes in the wheel; full circle

Disdain, now, no wound to ‘oint

 

The Players show empathy to Ros and Guil, no disjoint ;

they are also at the mercy of the elements i.e. Hamlet

They desperately avoid blunder and blood red moist

However they can’t undo fate with any willed choice

 

Lifestyle of livelihood

Real-life social effect

In that case I’m dead

Fractionally:  Yes

 

They’ve been gone this whole time

stuck with inquistion in purgatory

They relive this act on track

This fact amends the story

 

We see it in un-, sub-, and supernatural forces:

They are caught in between.

 

Heads

Heads

Heads

Heads

And so on…

November 3, 2013

Facebook Famous Twin Cities

You’re the next everyone else,

Lest you be yourself.

 

Caption Queen amongst the memes.

 

Twit wit shit list.

 

And we’ve only come to the talk in Uptown.

 

 

Facebook Famous.

Reddit a Million times.

 

No more waiting in line.

Status update: Fine.

 

Googley eyes.

A Wikileaks work week.

 

And we’ve just come to a stoplight on Nicollet in Downtown.

 

 

 

Watching the clock, listing, clicking, trolling, scrolling…

Wasting time.

 

Fuck going outside,

I sit back and recline.

 

And we’ve just been stuck inside.

 

 

All night out.

All day in.

All living in sin.

It’s a hit with the cool kids.

 

What’s a book?

What’s a park?

What’s a walk?

 

Loving it.

 

And the lit up screen in front of me keeps me out of the dark.

 

 

Dial tone on the phone to text.

Who needs to talk?

 

Life is complicated,

And complex.

 

Depressed and unable to rest.

 

Wake to a beep, everyday things in my nightmares mar my sleep.

Thank god it was just a dream.

 

Again, I reach for my phone.

Notification with a beep alerts me.

 

And we lie in a bed in Marcy Holmes.

 

 

I’ve seen things on my feet:

 

From the free clinics to the free church dinners,

Social media makes everyone a winner.

 

Or the ice couldn’t get much thinner.

 

All over these deep waters.

 

You see?

 

Just click.

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.

August 30, 2013

My Contemporaries

My Contemporaries

By Terry Scott Niebeling

 

Stolen stories about how I tell people I’m a writer.

I don’t, I’m not.

I just type a lot.

 

This took place at the VFW, this took place on social media, and this whole idea took place in my mind.

He said she said.

Of course I’m fine.

 

To my contemporaries,

You hardly write, you always talk, and what is there to do about it?

Nothing.

Your work exists in the rain like chalk.

 

Frame of mind, you are blind.

Idly wasting time, waste of time.

 

The only thing we have in common is proximity on a map.

You have released thoughts from their trap.

Your handshakes, salutations, and self-descriptions fall flat.

 

Is there more to you?

More to do?

We can only assume.

 

As long as you are around I know there is someone better fit for the job.

Making us all look good.

 

Cheers,

TS_

 

After Thought:

 

Facebook Famous,

Got it covered like a condom.

 

Not paying to publish.

Not wasting paper.

Not advertising falsities.

Not entertaining bullshit.

 

The only way to exist.

 

I just wrote all of this.

I haven’t spoken a single word.

Ain’t that a bitch?

 

Don’t believe everything you say, speak, read, or see.

Most people lie.

I formulate drafts when I sit.

 

***

How’d you get famous?

You know it’s not word of mouth when you’re speaking about yourself, right?

May 23, 2013

Social Media Obscene

Where is Old-Fashioned Passion,

A lack of action,

Sit all day staring at motion picture contraptions.

 

Wonder why we smoke weed,

Wonder why we don’t read?

 

What’s the need, its 2013?

 

Social Media is Everyone’s Disease, and in Everyone’s Dreams.

Obscene how Obscene the Scene Seems.

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