Posts tagged ‘ladies’

November 30, 2014

The Morning After (Downtown La Crosse)

The morning after,

Early new day;
“Bar hair” and Fishbowls,
Smell of smoke,
Sore throat-

Subtle suggestions: Let’s walk down by the river.
Last night’s concepts seem less conducive to life.

Now,
Light which sneaks
Through venetians blinds.

_even though they are closed.

Painful to eyes-
And then a piss.
Then a brush of teeth,
Under dry lips.

Moving,
Aching,
Wasting,
Stiff tender bits-

The evening before, knowing full well it would come to this.
Downtown: the nightlife, old friends, the drinks, to witness.

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September 3, 2014

Day One: Campus Type

Cigarette ashes hang like eyelashes

of campus distractions,

from broken hand sinewy seams

this be the death of me-

 

…  and some;

carless,

embarrassed,

 

No Feelings: numb.

 

American Literature and computer generated poetry; as art- good start to the semester, the sun is out in all its glory.

 

Covered in leather and bruises, she moves, tattooed, wounds fester, pimple-faced and searching for pleasure and adventure, no more mommy and daddy leisure.

 

It’s true.

 

Beautiful green lost confused, children adults on the move; me too,

How about you?

 

Choose.

 

Brilliant fulfillment,

United States we live in, lucid livid.

 

Self –surgery

type urgency.

 

Bearing my frown like a leaky raincoat in the center of this rainstorm,

maintaining a productive stance on consuming all there is to absorb.

 

Advice: Mornings are easier when you don’t drink every night,

but for what I’ve just seen I just might.

 

Educate me on this system.

Please, teach me now. 

July 23, 2014

At the beach (Cedar South)

At the beach,

this burnt sand desert;
tan,
beyond feet,
hot!
dig underneath.

Swimming lake water to avoid the heat,
people lazing on towels,
hiding beer cans
attempt save discrete.

Plants sharp as knives while walking with bare-feet.

At the beach
At the beach

Sex parts covered by diaphanous cloth,
where we sit with wandering thought lost.

Sunscreen smells,
lax notion,
rubbing lotions,
discussion minced, quiet commotion-

ride, bipedal, or car from the city to the streets to meet,

at the beach
at the beach.

April 25, 2014

Espresso Royale Observation

Leathered Leaves holding residence
Of standing in pots of dirt in present
These structures capturing the eyes
Outlined fine disguised greyed skies
Boxed and boarded in this casement
Of the light opposed save debasement
Terrarium rest the inquisitive patients
Along the observation deck, gauging at situation.

April 10, 2014

The Sense of Morgen

Morning language of foreign affairs
Out the door, across the lawn
A man lip-syncs silent frustrations
Coming light exposes woken dawn

From afar becoming freshly shaven
Supple smooth shining firm at distant sight
Exposed shoulders soft warm- they smolder
Bending and twisting with purposeful might

Flattened fur amongst fallen fodder
Stepping past on sprung gait fore longed
Hesitate to walk, they jump at a ponder
A flock of Birds sing their sweetly song

Traverse moving, coming forth
Up the stairs straight along the rail
I come passing through the door
Winds up blowing leaves as a sail

Dimmed light inside; night, upon the daily rags
I grab one staggering past as a lady bends
Hands pull and from the rack this pulp drags
Front cover to see what this issue lends:

Of riots it talks, never had that haughty celebration
Of pay it talks, we aim to change the penurious situation
Of development it talks, can we mount this station for payment?
Of research it talks, for progress searching for inspiration

Take a seat and read, the day’s been made
Take some time to think of all these claims.

***
This rests in between reality and not.

October 28, 2013

Blue Sky Float By

Guten Tag:

 

We spoke in intrusive sunlight of lacking shade.

We spoke of latter days.

We spoke anyway.

 

Yoga attire balanced high wire; elegance at foot, gracefully placed.

The looks that took.

 

Buses and bikes passed, and stopped, as cars drove on.

 

Dew covered leaves, bright colors scatter the green grass ground,

Only to break, crush, and turn brown, all spinning around.

 

When asked about this conversation I said I didn’t know.

There was no answer,

to no question.

 

Somethings just mentioned.

 

One can liken it to the blue sky; no sum, just something beautiful, an entity floating by.

 

Lessons we learn on the whim of a wave of attention.

Moving as fleeting dust from fluttering sparrow wingspan.

Trivial sorts affection.

 

A dram of logic,

Stop this human project.

 

As we walk and flow through others,

On separate paths,

We have but such a chance to interact.

 

The total might be intrigue indeed, ask and you shall see.

GERN.

Ich mag Diskussionnen.

September 4, 2013

College Girls/Nikki Fine Lookalike

Nikki Fine Lookalike/College Girls

By Terry Scott Niebeling

 

 

Possibilities without conclusions within reason, always.

 

Next to me in next to nothing, “Sorry about my mispronunciation, I am used to speaking French.”  Redhead from Ohio, Oh, Hi, oh…

Um…  Guten Tag!

 

Look, take account, not to stare.

All there, and something is missing.

Too early, am I dreaming?  Focus on the material, not what’s under it.

 

What kind of Yoga pants and mid-drift are in store for tomorrow?

 

I saw them skipping through the hallways as if no one was watching, their audience had no vacancy. 

No time for sauntering or talking. 

Walking past with an agenda, I was as the light beam that held me as people walked through it.

 

And they tell you to pay attention, as if you are obese at an all you can eat buffet.

Never today, I am spoken for in many ways.

 

Who did you want her to be, or how?

Was it true to your eyes?

Did your thoughts somehow allow?

 

One could take in tiny blond hairs just at the apex of her legs; thighs at rest, some under thread, some exposed to be what seemed like overhead-this vantage, a view from a seat, of her skirt.

 

Everyone in the class was too poetic; our professor was looking for something more literal.

 

(I thought, don’t take this argument to the streets.  I know a million people who are POETS, WRITERS, and AUTHORS.  THEY HAVE PUBLISHED BOOKS, you know?  They’ll tell you out loud to your face at introduction even before their passionate hand clasps yours for an initial handshake.

Trust me.  Go to any party in Uptown, Downtown, NE, fuck it, anywhere in Minneapolis, as proof.  You will see.)

 

Feet held below stubbled knees, in slip-ons sans socks, where thoughts get long, hard, and lost.

 

Bejeweled with bright rings and things-affixed shiny rocks, on silver-metal bands, held tight to each little finger, on her delicate little hands.  To her mouth, to the air, to her desk, they lingered, and then back again.

 

Is she Nikki Fine?  I don’t know.

That’s fine.

My mind playing tricks again, sitting in class.

I don’t mind.

 

We were talking Shakespeare as the time passed, Sonnet 18.

 

 

June 30, 2013

Confident Woman

Confident Woman,

By Terry Scott Niebeling

 

Confident Woman,

You make yourself,

No one else molds you.

 

You are Top-Tier,

Wanting eyes behold you.

 

Confident Woman,

Lit up red ruby, like a dozen roses.

 

On a June day,

Anything you say, I say,

Anything supposed.

 

You are always here, no door closes.

 

Confident Woman,

Alone with you and your beauty,

 

In the moonlight,

A sight at night,

A chance at life,

Your words are so soothing.

 

Confident Woman,

You vex me with complexity,

Reality has it as you next to me.

 

Purely ecstasy.

 

I am blessed to see you, purposefully, truly, and aesthetically.

 

 

(Disclaimer:  A Confident Woman can be anyone, anybody, and/or anything encompassed, with self-love and self-respect-having confidence.)

March 28, 2013

A Bathroom View

Thoughts of love as I sit bedside this morning with a bathroom view.

 

She looks so fresh, so clean, so new, so cute.

Life expectancy high; much time to choose.

I stay to see proof, or a poof.

 

And I know.

 

As I sit-not sleeping, I remember, open door looking through:  you snooze, you lose.

 

This is magic but real.

This is the truth.

 

 

 

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.”