Posts tagged ‘Hometown’

September 17, 2017

Homecoming

My heimstatt has hills that go wending
A mighty river that flows bending south
And people so free, you are too, and can be
A place in the past and present, now
My family buried in deep, rich soils
Trying to fight it as aged leaves in fall
But we all must change for something
I choose docile and those who understand me
Never meant to be caged or tied or told
Fish where my father did, see him
Lost in meandering wakes trailing off
Trawling as a million circles borne for clouds
Through rain and chop and histories in water
Coming back here, want to stay–longer
The cities aren’t so hard at all
But this warmth, this peace–all days
Pleasantries, i hope others cant find it too ere me
For i need space for my love and my progeny
Pull the roots of the trees for better
Head south as that river goes, tell me no
Head south to it, i am fine, no worries, just  

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July 2, 2017

tour de la crescent

on borrowed bikes we rode
up and down quiet vacant streets
where we went and where we stayed
we had yet to decide.

September 18, 2016

La Crescent Haiku #1

Fog of deep valley
drifts away from verdant bluffs.
Small town soul revealed.

June 27, 2016

make a call

the piecemeal
and the sweet
tongue
going perennial,
the gypsum
and the clover,
only had without
strove to
rekindle brethren
likeness,
coming so close
to what we
had to offer,
coming so close
to what we
called home.

November 9, 2015

Vetsch Park

cutting through
the wet knoll,
green and heavy,
here let white
steamed breath.
a blanket of
fallen leaves
under foot with
stones and sand,
droppings of
the night, unknown,
as forms and figures
danced in shadows.
at midday this
lone foraged trail
at Vetsch Park;
start to go, climb to
god’s seeing eye,
climb to Stoney Point,
back to the cross, to
the christmas star,
back around to town,
back around on
this familiar ground.

March 21, 2015

Out of Dodge, 52 South to La Crescent

There are pieces to account for
while getting out of Dodge,
on a Friday eve, away from the city—
on the mind of those,

sat in an aged black truck on edgy burnt-out energy;
a person can purchase a mass of pink-violet
spectacle taking over western skies,

glorious sunset in tired eyes,
painting cloaked-clouds,
heavy dark, invoking peering pupils.

That giant burning orb,
light-years away,
is sinking into a foreland field,

browned is a Minnesota plain’s silhouette to come,
spotted with tail-lights
and oncoming forgotten brights;

before cars snaked out of the city
on veined webs of pavement,
onto highway 35,

which roller-coastered up and down,
thru and around,

wheels traversed crude potholes
and bad drivers—ones inciting rage,
to 52 South, to less ego.

And in the cockpit:
a cracked window,
a rear-view gaze,
changing bootlegged CDs,
and easy conversation.

The journey goes:
follow the lines to-,
follow the lights to-,
follow the signs to-,

each less visible moment passing,
each shadowed monument dusted;
stop here, stop there, no stops at all…
Make time.
Make tracks.
Make it back.

under shrouded moon above,
each sparsely laden gas station,
each pre-ghost town affixed—

to Rochester, by Rushford,
past Winona and Houston,
fast 73mph, thru Nodine—

establishments wax a dimly lit yellow,
down a long hill stretch to 14 61,

along hulks of vibrant-by-day bluffs,
past looming Lock and Dam No 7,

along the sounding Mississippi,
waters show streetlamps caught in the flow, luminescent,

and we go into town,
La Crescent, past the Hub
to Apple Village Liquors,
then to home.

There,
a warm room,
my smiling family,
and hugs await.

Pieces of what’s become
getting out of Dodge.

***

A good aspect of the city
can be getting out of it.

August 7, 2014

downtown La Crosse, circa 2006.

Buying the Tribune
in the morning
in downtown La Crosse,
velvet touch-

A Coffee,
walk the redbrick sidewalk.

Past the Bodega,
and Chairs,
and last night’s Cigarette Butts,

washing dishes in the back of some restaurant.

Faux-Progressive airs;
Talking a lot, stale-
actions and words; NOTICE: they talk a lot.

Burnt-Out Transcendentalists,
watching drunks, and pre-cancer patients and cars being parked—

Save the day.

Wearing shorts under blue skies.

Call clandestine spies, looking up at the corner apartment window-
wondering what’s inside__
… As she wakes,

long legs lie.

Moving, thinking, that fresh brewery smell, now new adult.

In summer heat- beating down,
The Mississippi River on the breeze—cesspool,

I walked back from where I had come
trying to not feel so numb.

Because I had to walk back.

July 11, 2014

Storied Weather (South Ridge)

Familiar clouds
tell of South Ridge
and distant relatives;
revelations such as this
come hard to miss,
a loss of words.

These were once
interactions,
turned keys,
and crossed-out lists.

Rain drops tapping my head soaking my shoulders.

We drove there in the morning
to leave by afternoon.

Now, I stand here under
dark spinning skies
watching
waiting
and hoping for you.

April 15, 2014

“The Apple Capital”

This town
Under bluffs of a river valley

Ancient trees
Fixed in rich dirt of sediment

Through the
Sandstone foundation of long forgotten
Specters under the sky
Incarnation of this “American Dream”

Their progeny haunt
Stalk
Past the dying brilliance
Of traditional affairs

–The audacity of Business
Gathering
From the land
Of which they do not own
–the view
That warns
The conscious being

A vast distance between states
Two, as splendid
Establishment in the new frontier
Dust to flesh

Once whited maps
Growing with pride
Now what it stood for is merely a novelty

March 10, 2014

(Now) The Land of 10,000,000 Lakes/ Relatively Obscure

(Now) The Land of 10,000,000 Lakes

By Terry Scott Niebeling

 

Relatively Obscure;

But Only Now,

This year

 

(Must’ve been the Weather)

 

Thoughts at present

Winter resentment

 

(Had to’ve been a Tasteless Pleasure)

 

Summertime

And

Rhymed lines

 

Blank verse

And

Mini-skirts

 

Beer on a deck

And

Sunburns that hurt

 

Been stuck-inside-life

And

There’s nothing worse

 

Darkest before the light

And

Patience makes all the worth

 

(Blinded by the light-eyesight)

 

Times in the Midwest

With the new season we’ll wear less for dress:

 

Abandon bundles…

Step through Puddles…

 

Avoid Potholes and Passive Aggressive Mumbles.

 

We still (always) look forward to the warm days ahead,

Sunlight makes it easier to leave the bed.