Posts tagged ‘atmosphere’

April 10, 2015

Minneapolis Streets

Hennepin
Central
Franklin
Nicollet

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August 16, 2013

Stone Arch Bridge (Contemporary)

Massive stones stand in place holding her fantastic weight.

Lifetimes move under, across, and through.

At moments carrying even you.

 

An architectural feat orchestrated testament to time.

 

_______Bending the arched frame of our minds, as onlookers twist their lens… hearts, and eyes.

 

Close them, open them, the massive structure resides.

Dilate the pupils, constrict the camera’s convex sights. 

 

 

Like I said, The Stone Arch Bridge is a testament to time.

 

Minneapolis has her spanning both riversides.

 

 

And if you are on her and you drop something to what lies below, ka-plunk, the Mississippi will catch all you throw.

February 9, 2013

It Ain’t The Prettiest (Midwest In General)

A bunch of much of the same; Midwest-mold ubiquitous like the plague.

Break the routine like sinking into a grave.

 

I hear it on the radio, I see it in print.

 

Seen it, done it, heard it before.

I wonder, how long of a stint?

 

How much more, how much more?

 

Shit-sound galore.

Shit-material, what’s the score?

 

As if underground hip-hop is Amateur Hour Club at the dive, or just horribly inarticulate karaoke.

Something to be, don’t be.

Are you doing this jokingly?

 

Coffee from place to place.

The good stuff.

State your case, case your state.

 

Jumping on trend like an almost missed bus.

Jumping on love like lust.

Then bust.

 

As if Portland is Minneapolis.

Getting coal in exchange for your Christmas Wish List.

 

As if vise versa, or versa vice.

Who gives a shit, right?

 

As if La Crosse is cultured.

All progress has been haltered.

 

I’ll drink a beer on it.

 

The holidays are over, winter should be gone.

The year 2012 is over, you should be gone.

Why not go to the nearest local Coffee Shop and write an inspiring song?

 

Too much on my plate to save space, save time, save face.

 

Back to earth without a trace.

Cool beans, I love you too.

 

I am all right.

 

Passive aggressive, throwing it up like it’s the flu.

Done with the mundane typical spew.

 

Amy Winehouse is dead.

The Current is begging for money.

The government is still funny.

 

I’d rather talk same sex marriage and control of guns.

I’d rather talk homeless people on the streets and my lack of funds.

 

How about you?

 

Bowie came out and did it again.

Came out and did something boring, my friend.

 

Prince is talking about sex, breakfast, and an orange juice and vodka drink, and what do people think?

Such a genius, he is on the brink.

 

We came for the Atmosphere and left when we heard of The Chalice.

Breaking through the sacred palace of this fruitful scene, thinking:  I will literally burn this motherfucker down, I promise you, I mean this.  P.O.S. can throw as many

Molotov cocktails as possible, Tyler Durden is on my side.

 

Freddie Mercury called, he wants all of his ideas, sounds, moves, and lyrics back.

 

I have something to be excited about:  Something different, something advanced, something true.

 

You just got Ninja Mind Fucked.

July 15, 2012

Her Name is Taken (part 1)

Her Name is Taken

 

Hard times are had when trying to not think of her.

Usually reading about the past, objectively.

Although that is subjective.

 

Imagination working overtime for peanuts.

 

Thoughts twist, bend, and crawl-toward me.

Hands outstretched.

Buzzing, like high, like climbing up the wall.

 

Like goodbye and don’t call.

Like Goodbye, don’t call.

 

Please.

 

Ring, ring, ring.

 

If looks could kill, the world would end at her feet.

If wits could kill, she should try to keep her mouth shut as to save us all.

 

She walks, talks, and knows everything.

 

A little girl looking for purity and compassion.

A boy in the same boat.

Imagining life-

Where only good things happen, and most decent things stay afloat.

 

Falling into view, though, my eyes frequently gaze to stall.

Everywhere, and all

Everywhere, and all.

Seeing everything and all.

 

Most hardly notice.

 

Blink, and the picture is lost…

 

Gone like the sun after dusk.

 

Like the wind.

 

So close to capturing a mythological being, but the wrought was for naught.

She’s a shapeshifter and compulsive drifter.

 

And she didn’t come with any of the special features neither.

 

Tug of war between teacher and believer.

Words and silence.

 

Diligent preacher lying for leisure.

Pupils to closed eyelids.

 

But the problem is meager.

Just meager.

 

***

 

Um, yeah…

What were we talking about again?