Posts tagged ‘Facebook’

December 22, 2015

how to solve all your problems

issue of the day,
and then i am better.
it’s like a light
came on in
utter twilight dark.
we couldn’t ask for more.
we couldn’t ask for less.
we couldn’t ask of ourselves.
calling signs of the time
in sighs and glaring
red eyes, we stayed
up all night to
make it to work
by nine, and tried to forget.
others complained, they had
nothing, just their words with meaning.
just their issues emboldened
of the day on social
media, so displayed.
surely we all know, and
surely we can all relate,
because we are here too
just as you, and
no different–
though you try to say,
while hoping for change
on a scrolling page.

November 16, 2015

This is how it is…

when verbose people
hiding behind screens
say this
is how it is,
lightening
and thunder
beyond the windows
speak more
wisdom in meaning.

when a gut reaction
is examined
as hard “fact” meaning,
our degrees
and letters
and intuitions have
been burnt to ash.

stream of conscious thought
is the next
judge waiting patient,
wanting for
one more line,
one more guess,
for one more anything
contemporary to tell it
how it is–
besides them.

some existence merely
depends on
the expressions of
others, and
how there is no
fact in feeling,
no definitions exact,
only words and thought
to a person,
telling this is right
and this is wrong,
like they fucking “know”
the difference anyway.

October 23, 2015

Modern Eulogy

Now if you die
the newspaper will proudly display
the worst selfie that
you ever took in your whole life
on its front page,

next to big bold print
and bullshit ads and sports team’s
manufactured importance,
and then there is you…

How sad.

This image is
the only photograph of you
that they could find
on your social media page—facebook fame,
quick, fast, now,
through a Google search of your name.

This is the best they could do
for the article, for the paper—for you,

just by going
on the news of your death
and your name,
to your unique page.

I grab the limp paper now
and wonder,
does the family even know?

I wish I had coffee,
I wish other more realistic
less bias things
made the news…

Hillary Clinton goes to jail,
perhaps? But who is she
to me anyway?

No one…

See, I don’t care…
I am worried about my selfie,
my image, my name:
What they will show when I die
on the front page!

This is what life has come to.
I think it costs about $1.00 …

September 20, 2015

Inquiry Related Lament

Oh,

your cellphone died…

So,

when’s the funeral?

And,

could you go to sleep
without tucking

your social media accounts in?

And,

how many selfies
would be unhealthy?

And,

why does there
always have to be something
on my mind?

Inside fixed,
connected with who,
what, why, and when…

And,

when in real life will I see you again?
when in IRL will I see you again?

***

Sometimes it’s better to listen to the wind.

December 22, 2014

Everyday Horror

In a quiet room
Surrounded though alone,
Eyes stare blankly-
Mind’s stuck in a phone.

September 30, 2014

Modern Problem

Overreliance on technologies;

I need my smartphone to:
take out the trash,
go to work,
pay bills
take notes in class…

I need the whole world to shut down…
I need to get off of my ass…

When I push that button
And watch the screen glow-flash
I know I’m wasting my time
I know I’m not alone in that.

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.

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?

January 26, 2013

Perfect Morning Placement (Still-life Vagrant)

She said (some of this):

 

Passion is where your hands are at.

 

The moment you realize hotels never have quality coffee…

You have one in your hands…

 

The moment you realize the last thing you need is an ice cold beer…

You have one in your hands…

 

Love is in your hands.

 

My girl is back; my dick still works.

My ex says I have only one good quality:  A sense of humor…

 

I say perks.

 

She calls pretty regular

Smiles are not her concern.

 

I say adjunct.

 

I’m still laughing.

It was a joke that we lasted so long, yet nothing is right or wrong.

 

The aftermath is where the real comedy lies.

After that one has to decide.

 

Perfect morning placement.

There are so many different arrangements.

 

Big teeth, big eyes, no lies.

The truth is its good.

 

Staying in 3 different places, in 3 different stages, in 3 different ranges.

Enjoying the Now placement, living like a vagrant.

 

***

 

Train travel babble.

Ride the rails like thoughts, its hard to get lost when there is no destination.

 

***

 

And she asks on some social media site, “Do I know you?”

And I answer, “Probably not.”