Posts tagged ‘Spoken Word’

February 26, 2015

Bakken through Minneapolis

Night black as Bakken
oil, which malignly pours past silent
communities,

shipped in cryptic-marked tanker cars
under cover of darkness, rightly
so, they move obtusely opaque—

opposite downtown lights which stick to a wetted haze
in the distance, making this Midwest city glow
for miles—some say 150 of them away.

The shit we’ve seen, and haven’t.

That which creeps along can be found in a jet, in
a car, or on foot,

in hardened
rock snow-crust, cold as a
flushed-toilet shower’s mist—you know; everything
is connected, retraced, unplugged,
tubed, tied, aborted,
and rewind.

Truths for lies:
This is safe,
This is fact,
This in fact is safe,
We care about you.

It is snug-up, or snug-down, or
just snug enough, or caught in between comfortable,
and I can’t go outside,
I have to decide.

Then it is: A pub visit, a flipped
switch, a lit door in the distance—these
palm trees have become foreigners
in desert sands which have turned to mud
by native rain power in your very living room
by way of: your very hand;

the vessel you hold,
repurposed from some ornate
decoration, from some ornate
description, from so-and-so’s ornate party,
or from some ornate magazine—ornate parts
of these

-Cult clubs.

And that is life:
black as night as petro ships by, as exhaust fumes fly,
as exhausted you sleeps, you snore, you don’t think;
as an “elected” official’s bank account goes cha-ching,
as a CEO draws outside of the lines, and talks energy.

(of course we need)

as the air goes in and out
of his mouth,
and in and out,
and in and out—

Like fucking, really.
Hey, you thought it. :)

Humans without a care,
they are there happily unawares.

With smiles on their dreaming faces,
as that napalm tube rolls on steel wheels in their backyards.

February 25, 2015

Free Me

Blood for ink,
the page for flesh,
and few words for character
description;

their imprint does stain,
the pinprick storyline
of a feeling—

I would sit and count
for minutes,
hours,
days,
months,
years,
etc.

but sitting is not conducive
to good movement, patience does nothing
except waste time
and progress
and dull the mind…

They may say: relax, let it pass.

that time; what could be
a particular goal seen to fruition.

Those who hold the ties that bind,
the keys we need,
are working steadily behind my
eyes,

the nerve—these nerves,
and more; each synapsis connects to
the message passed,

this circuit board commanding:

a knee jerk,
a hand slap,
an orgasm,
twitching muscles going to
bed—as you rock to zzzzzzzzzz.

Found out in between,
no verse to discuss,
no song to critique,

just the rigid clock’s tick,
and those who run by it (and from it):

they tell us what to do—
how to eat sleep and breath—
where to be, what to wear, how to look,
when and where—
there—and how to see.

Now who tells you how to be?

February 20, 2015

Make Everything

Make
everything in
life,

But
excuses.

December 10, 2014

Conversation’s Plight

I remember when words had meaning;
A man was only as good as his word.
I thought about this over a conversation,
As my partner’s words were never heard.

November 3, 2014

Words to Action

Ripping down a sign
Out of angst and pure passion;
Having changed a mind,
Put meaningful words to action.

September 13, 2014

Ruled by Cats

Dust management,

scoop,

Lid removed;

Stench to prove-

Ammonia and hardened poop.

This moment,

What it is.

No king cleans out cat shit.

In the air hangs

remnants of digested remains.

Eyes pained

Hands to rearrange

Next to the toilet stool

What a silly fool

To be a cat;

To actually rule.

July 25, 2014

Stream-of-Conscience Free-Writing on Positive

Laugh at yourself more.
Make alternate plans.
Stop speaking in arguments.
Get out while you can.
Eclipse those bold around you.
Expand your mind like desert sand.
Excuse the ill-hearted.
Lie in the sun, get tan.
Be realistic less.
Find happiness more.
Search out your inner Self;
caress and appreciate its core.
Be happy for what you have.
Never attempt to settle the score;
forgive and forget-
because what’s life for?
Realize you are always wrong,
even if you “know” you are right.
Become a better person,
this can happen over night
Be the nicest human being,
not some stuck-up snob.
Tell the government to end wars,
by dropping photo-bombs.
Shake hands with strangers,
meet your new friends.
In the end there is nothing to lose,
so start a new trend.
Open your eyes to adversity.
direct those who can’t.
Try the best to be yourself.
Try your best to understand.
Always exercise patience.
Always exercise. Period.
Never stop learning and reading.
Never stop being weird my friend.
Today is right now.
Yesterday is gone.
Listen to sweet birds singing your song.
Rainbows happen in storms.
Sun is better when it rains.
How good do you feel?
For that you can thank pain.
Understand there is no certainty,
from one moment to the next.
So do everything you can,
be passionate- do your best.

July 13, 2014

Sociopolitical

Sociopolitical,
as lipstick and licorice;
kiss with the tongue,
hard feelings then diminish.

We won’t mention that again.

She said she’s always fine,
the next week she died.

I have the text to prove it.

-Found her along a country roadside
with holes and blood and mud.
The Sunday newspaper said it as
a matter of fact- Just. Like. That.

We had this one class together…
-Fremdsprachen, Deutsch.

Who writes that shit anyway?
It can’t be real-

Those papers…

A life that lacks is labeled as that.
A life on track is labeled as that.

Hands tied, for gosh sakes!
Bright white lines,
Coldest milk shake,
I was on Valium so I don’t remember that day- anyway.

Then the poetry reading was over…
So was everything else-

No apprehension
No hesitation.

What’s tension?
We mention:

Now-a-days,
A lifetime away,
Full of choices
Did you hear them voices?

And you thought for a walk.
And you thought for a talk.
And you made art with chalk
that did not last so long.

-Some cloudy milk transparency.

But that was all you did,
then you slept-

after the sun had left.

***

Also, danke schön Pakistan.
Story: A patron puts one hundred-dollar bills inside of the books he returns only to promote reading.

March 21, 2014

Conscious Continued

On the State Level:

What is Freedom without Oppression?

 

Sunday liquor sales we don’t mention

Exclusive capital through resource retention

Taking the environment without apprehension

Marijuana is off the books because opiates pay pensions

 

Then we walk with hanging heads

Then we eat what we’ve been fed.

***

Paper collection friendships

Corporations part of a faceless community

But they have our president’s holy graces*

Existence thriving in high places so astutely

 

Their tree bearing tainted fruit

That is only being eaten by the ignorant and aloof.

 

***

As I am:

 

Taking the bus to work

Wearing same dirty old shirt

While not putting on airs

Not pretending unawares

 

Liars hold more account on the politician’s ear

Forsaken bent sinewy grotesque and clear, yet standing tall they still appear.

 

***

The trains roll through the station

But my Amtrak is late

Here’s to frack mines devastation

The passengers will wait

 

This one has been delayed

On to better days

Money rolls in, they can’t differentiate

But we must remain

 

Priorities not for minorities

A lesson in disgrace

Haven’t read the history

But what’s important before today’s date?

 

One could tell a story

And call it reality too

One could fly a sign

In hopes of attaining food

 

Desk sit forty hours

No wonder why I’m rude

Don’t count the flowers

Straighten up that rebellious attitude

 

That’s all.

 

This is local-

They appear global-

 

What about America?

What about global hysteria?

 

*Currency

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.

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