Posts tagged ‘how to write’

January 21, 2015

The Reality of Free Writing

One hour of purposeful free writing
Had turned to my life portioned in words.
After a second read I knew it was shit,
Moments later the rhyme was absurd.

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November 16, 2014

Snowscape

This Snowscape so quiet;

Not a bird,
Not a car,
Not a sound…

Whiteness covers the world,
Layering atop the frozen ground.

July 22, 2014

a writer engaged…

Engaging keys to dance on the screen
a sticky banged-out sort of language,
eyes flicker-flash as they register,
each finely enacted word is painted.

Sentences used decidedly, discrete-
far beyond just average meaning,
right below the incomprehensible
reading brings light day dreaming.

Realism in lines, dots, and white blank space;
page-art, satire even written in haste,
excessive save excite, readers we do invite,
the slashes and dashes become grammar’s delight.

Ah, to scribe
Ah, what for?
Ah, to be a part.
Ah, what more?

Thoughts just come, one by one;
even when lacking to grasp,
some are produced with purpose-
others just come from the ass.

It is easy to complain, but so much harder to compliment.
It is easy to say we make, but so much harder to create content.

June 25, 2014

Poetry for Profit

Poetry for Profit;
The dilettante says.

It just doesn’t happen,
It’s an illusion in the sick minded head.

Corporate sponsors,
Ads which have mislead.

They have a job to do:
They have to pose and fit for trends.

If you do it for monetary reasons,
You won’t genuinely achieve success.

Real artists have bled,
They don’t concern themselves with worrying about the point-spread.

People live fantasy lives all the time
Where they are famous
They are sought-after
They are “the greatest”, labeled by their closest friends.

Where they try their best to be noticed,
But no one cares in the end.

If you write to proclaim “I’m a poet”,
To get paid cash and attain lavish threads,
To fulfill a lifestyle image that’s been played-out,
In order to satiate big dreaming ego-ed heads.

I have news for you:

You could write non-stop for the rest of your life,
But writing won’t always be the hot ticket trend.
So many others have paved the way before you,
While you merely lazed lying in your comfy bed.

***

Try doing your passion for years and years to free your mind, to share thought, to pass the time, unnoticed.

Could you?

Don’t do it for profit, never do art for profit; take a look at the masters, they lived in destitute, some unrecognized in their lifetimes for what they had accomplished.

-Doubtful.

***

Go, go, go-
I know people who have done more with less, they are called my relatives.

December 9, 2013

From Books to Blogs; A Story of Evolution

 

From books to blogs like cats and dogs;

We’re surrounded by a million writers with a million words,

Wanting to get read and be heard- absurd.

 

Zombies scare me less.

 

How to Be a Famous Writer:

Start today, don’t delay, and get on your way.

Print press doesn’t pay like they say.

It only takes a few seconds to change your ways.

 

Like Flies on Shit.

 

What’s an artist’s wage?

Cost per page?

Adverts?

 

MPR broadcasts their crying.

You’d think people were dying.

 

Do they even fucking read?

 

I could hardly hold back my laughter.

 

Then we look at progress, and the prospects.

Not finding a silver-lining.

 

No room for wining and dining.

 

You find that surprising?

 

No one’s getting fatter.

 

This hobby wasn’t to fill any part of any wallet.

Act like Author Gods but they haven’t yet penned their ‘Hobbit’.

Just minds and thoughts figuring how those unique (everyone) call it.

They were so close, but they lost it.

 

I want to vomit.

 

I don’t see.

They follow what they want to be.

Flee to the next scheme…

 

But sadly others have been there before; up, down, and in between; twice, three times, maybe four.

Do we need anymore?

 

Can we chart forward progress by going backward?

 

Recline, sit in a chair.

Analyze, document, look, read, compare,

Tense up and think about how life is unfair.

 

Are you prepared?

 

Open Market, Open Mic, there’s an Open Season on the Weekend Artist tonight.

-Awake and aware of the unawares.

-Happily, a positive outlier without a care.

Counter parts rest comfortably under stairs.

 

Understand the standard deviation and mean,

But not meaning to be mean-

 

All part of the artistry in the Minneapolis Scene,

Wipe ass with freshly torn pages.

 

Print press has changed throughout the ages,

And they present new material as if it’s not dated…

 

Faded yellow on a dusty shelf. 

He called it sleeping knowledge.

I think his popularity needs help. 

 

And all of those resources have been wasted.

They don’t factor external cost,

They can’t calculate their displacement*.

 

At least hope and ambition aren’t lost.

 

 

*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Displacement_(psychology)

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November 25, 2013

Failed Writers, and Every Artist That Ever Told Someone They Were (I Love Your Hate)

Do you hate what you do?

 

You’re being paid to forget your passion.

Complain about things which actually happen.

 

Content,

Not moving forward,

Just sitting,

Talking,

And talking…

 

This remains your common reaction.

 

Affixed rock as flowing water moves around you.

Abandon choice to choose, afraid to lose, change astounds you too.

 

Roll on sitting duck.

Others could give a fuck.

 

***

I Love Your Hate,

 

There to motivate.

 

It feels good to surpass those who told me I wouldn’t amount to shit.

I’ll not list them by name, but they know who they are.

 

Keep being yourself, don’t move.

A mindset like that will get you so far.

September 6, 2013

Deutsch 1001; Early Morning Lesson

Education via Poetry (Early Morning Lesson),

By Terry Scott Niebeling

 

Bright lights.

White Board.

 

Outside I stand with a cigarette blowing between hardly noticed and totally ignored.

 

Just words.

Eyes forward.

 

Earlier, fucking with coffee, toast, and what fruit I could afford.

Swatting flies on the side.

 

Stance in Preparation,

Not bored.

 

Learning.

 

Struggling to stay awake.

 

Trying for high scores;

Sort of,

More so,

Looking to get this information absorbed.

 

Existing like a sponge is my new sport.

 

***

 

While most of these kids don’t even show up to class.

 

Thank you.

Thank god.

Danke schön.

 

Always look for more.  

November 11, 2012

Oppressive Options (Now They want to be like Me)

Fans are setting goals in respect to my situation, and talking about words on occasion.  I am in good company; everyone that surrounds.  Complexion not mentioned, hardly ever, always abound.  Those who avoid regressive expression and let it out.  We are found.  We are now.  

Like DKR, Like my roommate.  Like we do.  Like in the BroHaus.  Over and Out.

 

However, I sit and think.  I think and drink on economy, prosperity, reality, and dreams.  How realistic they seem, and how to make ends of means.  I believe.

I guess I believe…

 

I turn pink because I can’t relate.

I read more, instigate, initiate.

 

Not to hate, not to hate.

I’ll extrapolate.

 

Dodge dates, girls wonder why I show late.

Or not at all.

 

Count your blessings.

There are 99 bottles of beer on this wall.

 

Not my fault; I was taught by condition to absolve and revolve.

 

Keep straight forward, on a mission.

Watch out for number one, and wash the dishes.

 

Breakfast in the kitchen; Guinness Extra Stout and Gravity Drip Coffee, eggs, lime, rice, and beans.  Be lean, stay clean, read Minneapolisscene.

 

Write like that, like this here.

Right here, right now.

To exist, not missed, somehow, and still get around.

 

Not so fast, chill out, sit down.

 

So clearly mirror what you are near that you disappear.

Steer clear of fear.

Drink much with peers.

 

Appreciate those you hold dear, and the lack of competition.

 

Wishing like they are fishing for a compliments.

Bitching, that’s how I vent.

Commonsense.

 

And they hold it in.

 

Get asked why I am so happy.

Probably because my smile says fuck you, and inside I want to flee.

Exactly, exactly!

 

Just to be free.

Just to be something like me.

 

So many options and no definitive answers.

 

But freedom and choice cause oppression and tension.

Just go with your gut, end of the lesson.

 

And in my other blog I talk about fucking, and she says its substantial.

Beat that Dane-imal.

She gave me a handjob and called me an Asshole.

 

The day was uneventful, so I slept through it.

 

***

 

Identity crisis, thoughts divided.

Self-minded, ever self-minded.

 

I love you Dane,

Good luck on your goal to out write me.

P.S.  Sorry for drinking all of your SnowShoe Grog Schnapps.  I’ll get you S’more Schnapps soon.

TS-