Posts tagged ‘Media’

September 13, 2018

Mac Miller and Donald Trump and Lil Pump and Theories, they are all good to some, and not.

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***

we can safely say
that Donald Trump DEFINITELY caused
the hurricane–and every other problem in our lives,
set to possibly strike, today.
(Right?! I feel that is what the news is telling me…)
that’s a real sentence, like the news:
allegedly, possibly, here’s my opinion: fact-checked.
tell your Facebook friends in real life about it.
at the same time, in real time,
i ponder revenues and gains
of crises and who pays for the news about possibilities.
(that’s one aspect of an event and objectively real.)
i ponder what if it doesn’t happen?
(i am an economist. a fiscalist. a realist. a human.)
surplus: like gas for escaping.
surplus: like lumber to board up windows.
surplus: like food and supermarket staff…
surplus: of water and winds and clouds, as reported.
petrol to move product to get to you.
.. then again, other tragedy, Mac Miller died, heard a story.
now, i want to start a podcast
called conspiracy theory dad or responsible millennial parent,
get artist before i die… “he wrote this and that.” “Amazing.”
but everyone has a podcast.
everyone makes music and writes words.
everyone is political scientist ready to expound.
everyone is a progressive poet, #RESIST.
everyone is Facebook famous.
everyone is a human being and the same.
everyone has bad days and is at times sad and wrong.
my dad died. i believed in debt. labels define me daily.
told i would never. told i couldn’t. i did.
no matter what i do, anyway, it’s because of how i look.
maybe become a Christian again. maybe.
i believe everyone is good and can achieve if they believe
until they leave. but Mac Miller today.
he filmed a video in a coffin a while back, alive.
self-fulfilling prophecy has him there now still inside.
he wrote a song about Donald Trump, the president,
causing storms and Stormy Daniels news, and pointed views,
read Wikipedia about it on accident a day or so ago.
nothing new, like history.
wow, that all means nothing to me.
wow, that all means something to me.
it’s not like paying debt or working hard or having a plan.
not being involved with consumer debt and ads in the news.
they get you to buy, get you to buy into it…
present an event, present an option to buy, present why.
or, it’s not like
making a sandwich or changing a diaper or getting screamed at.
it’s like asking for a handout and
expecting it as if we were (fill in the blank).
this poem sucks, no potential, and Lil Pump sells millions, fuck!
i am happy for him though, he seems happy too.
he doesn’t cause storms and is alive.

***

Hello.  Do you consider yourself a helpful person? If so, consider donating to keep the poetry on my site free to all. Any amount helps, even a penny. Thanks!

PS: WordPress does NOT pay me for the ads you see all over this page, they make money off of my writing through these advertisements.  I don’t receive a dime.  So anything truly helps.  🙂 

Keep this site free!

Donate at: https://www.paypal.me/TSNiebeling

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September 3, 2018

A Major News Network’s Usage of Facts as Commentary to Describe What Everybody already Knew about Trump with Numbers & Percentages & Words, you know, meh… etc.

“Everybody knows
the news of the red-hot Trump
economy: Quarterly growth at 4.2 percent
(the average under
Obama: 1.6 percent)
Unemployment is bouncing around record lows. The overall rate
is 3.9 percent,
and in May of this year, it hit
an 18-year-low 3.8 percent—
and the lowest rate ever recorded
for black Americans.” – cbsnews

***

Hello.  Do you consider yourself a helpful person? If so, consider donating to keep the poetry on my site free to all. Any amount helps, even a penny. Thanks!

PS: WordPress does NOT pay me for the ads you see all over this page, they make money off of my writing through these advertisements.  I don’t receive a dime.  So anything truly helps.  🙂 

Keep this site free!

Donate at: https://www.paypal.me/TSNiebeling

September 2, 2018

let our government fix all of your problems for you, because it can if you believe it can, believe, you pay for it

“Minnesota has a progressive income tax with rates that are among the highest in the nation. Property and sales taxes are also above average.” –smartasset.com

***

i want more officials voted into office who want me to do better for me by me, through hard work.
that said, bigger things dont
necessarily mean better things, plainly.

my mom says dont help.

(i dont want to be labeled or seen as unusable–i have hands, feet, & a head, like most.)

more bloat, more unhinged, more confusion, thanks Chuck Todd… And CNN… Their ads…  
my television and your Facebook tells us so.  gives me something to fear about today.

QUICK look over there:
more taxes, more need for unnecessary, IT’S necessary–we make it so, so…

but come November forget what we charge you to be in charge of you and remember to vote to look good not feel good.

(i think i can do anything, or most things, when i think i can do those things.  irregardless of production or support. )

still throwing money at something
without a plan is still throwing money
at something without a plan still: blue solutions = bigger institutions.

when you fail to plan, you plan to fail, so many have said.

i want local politicians to stop talking
and stop taxing and stop spending on special interest and change
the size of the potholes on my Midway block,
change the size of my American made pockets and pocketbook to bigger, and less empty.

(i have a goal and lists and chores that could use it. :))

yet many worry about how someone in a white house might do something that the media says is such and such and that is not good, you must obey that thought and act on it without question…  but it probably wont happen. very unsure..

you know the guy down the street in charge of the town wants to have you pay him more money, right?  his buddies up the way want to gather more bucks from you to give as gifts in their honor to their voters to keep them in charge…  you pay for that probably.

tho maybe your tax dollar flies overseas
for things you dont believe.
tho maybe those taking have unknown friends
with no sight of the end. IDK.

could use space, could us paper with faces on it as well to better my community, my yard, my rental, my commitment, my family, my potholes–like the ones i give you.

i want to change my life for better every day–i try,
with every dollar of my time it takes, then those
around me will be better themselves too,
with their time the same. just good old fashion trial and error.

i have a plan.  plans…
capitalist for hours and minutes, optimizing my abilities and resources.
even if one is anger or disdain or confusion.

could drag just about anyone and their name through the mud.
that’s easy. thoughts of what was.

and usually when i ask for handouts it’s into a mirror with silent facial expressions,
usually i can find crumbs, water, and hope.

usually when i ask for handouts i dont ask, i ask but it’s remote.

So here:
Do you consider yourself a helpful person? If so, consider donating to keep the poetry on my site free to all. Any amount helps, even a penny. Thanks! 🙂

Donate at: https://www.paypal.me/TSNiebeling

February 12, 2018

point the finger

the tragedy of our misadventure
begins when we blame others
for where we stand now.

January 18, 2018

I wonder how much #Wordpress makes for these advertisements…

we are the coffee pot high marks,
cold shower goose pimples,
cold shell outdoors,
adverts between posts
machines making money, the most,
and living on piqued hopes.
i wonder where they come from?
reality attuned–or askew?
skilled in many topics,
including topics like you,
including flying to the moon,
including AC in June.
but that’s logic anyway.
still no idea really.
can’t care: too many mouths to feed.
too many days not fishing,
too many walks in the weeds.
i still see my dad in me.
haven’t visited that stone though.
like elvis, tupac, and biggie.
somewhere exotic, secret home, alone, you know.
i am cheap coffee grounds, again.
barely breakfast, usually little lunch.
no inheritance.
words between ads that don’t pay me.
but i pull for that company.
thanks wordpress.
thanks, now i care.

September 9, 2017

logically you are not even if you say you are on account of your actions and that language’s histories

i wonder if when I,
poets, activists, or protesters
disparage Western concepts, culture, constructs,
in their precious american English
they realize that they are
wading in the deep waters of
conflicted ideology.
(i am not defending or attacking it, just a thought.)
i wonder if they realize how careless they potentially look.
(tho it could be misread or misinterpreted, easily.)
the language of the Oppressor
suites well for an offensive, good thought… Lorde’s

master’s house with master’s tools (as explained):
same with antifa violence–end’s means,
or narrow-mindedness politics, not for me.
some things are only those things in name.
i want actual world peace.
i literally want equality.
i have begged for equal parental leave rights for fathers.
(and sometimes i just want coffee or beer.)
i can’t care though in a world of apathy towards definitions;
maybe you can see what i look like through texts.
there must be a proper algorithm for that.
i write in it,
i teach in it,
i think inside my head in it,
how do you do in it?
language is that prevalent, do you think in second languages?
probably told something
about how i am in it by someone i don’t “know” in it.
but i must re-reflect in it, hypocritically.
do i wear cotton clothing?
most likely my parents did, and their grandparents did…
that crop we should truly burn for its despicable history.
who is this building i live in named after?

Occam’s razor a bit more and start removing those bricks too.
every pattern is another pattern resembled: what did it mean, again, then?
that lovely beach you go to, named for?
he must have friendly-fired at some point, making it somewhat ok.
did the Viking‘s not sack Dublin perhaps
raping and killing and plundering that Emerald Isle?
something about my favorite football team that doesn’t win…
the homeless may sleep for free in that structure’s shadow, cold tho.
i can’t recall because i wasn’t there
but these poets, activists, and protesters,
perhaps, they are backwards really–me too,
with language rooted in vile pasts they (and i) despise,
so fluid its will can change fast daily
just to make some poignant moral point work out for a new sign;
like media statisticians, i can make numbers speak too.
get them to sing like a well-oiled machine at church.
a few words in print, alas, but my Narrative… shit.
i can speak another language.
i have visited new and different lands.
i will never stop reading or changing my mind on anything and everything.
perhaps, if you are a globalist who has
never left the States and who only speaks
one language, mother tongue, how good are your big ideas?
practicing and preaching are two different things.
no big deal though, just saying, reflecting.
so how would you like to say what you think now?

August 8, 2017

What?! 

Telling someone you love them and what their mettle is worth to you can happen in the blink of an eye, on the tip of a lash, in the time that you scroll a same feed or update your ever-changing status. Those around you don’t hear it in their eardrums enough–not enough to reach the valves of their hearts… so what is your so special and meaningful excuse? And can you bear to express it? 

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June 25, 2017

i notice and i think you should too

i will tell you, if you want to be unique,
differently skewed and
especially noticed or adulated where you are,
dont be a poet.
coffee and beer are my fuel during this grey day;
opposites like that do attract, like defined words and me.
(Sunday morning coming down,
wrote this yesterday while
teaching students how to speak Midwestern English in other countries (plural).
i could say i am international by now, wont.)
(anyway) to get noticed, get a real job,
work very hard every day, and
mind your own personal business
in this capitalistic venture,
otherwise known as your broken dream land,
otherwise known as real life.
dont take photos to share on social media;
nor add filters for likes, #NoFilters.
nor wear a bunch of makeup
to make up for your flawed human makeup.
nah, you needn’t do that.
just be, thats really real and really noticed.
people think you got a problem then.
tell them to unplug and not scroll.
my breath applauds me, my feel stings as truth alone.
that would be unique in a world where going viral on CNN Breaking BS
or standing on 94 W or E rebelling pointedly,
maybe cutting off ambulance service to someones grandmas dilemma,
like the rest of the thoughtful group
over 12 peers turned to one loathsome local department,
under adjectives: fascist, systematic, murderers et al.,
is considered some sort of special star sticker and truly esoteric
and great advocacy and activism novel, true, poignant, necessary.
but i understand sort of, well i do…
it seems too obvious and you know it…
you do.
products of media brought to you by you and look at those pricey ads.
so go ahead and think,
how can i not be like them, working for someone who doesnt pay me,
the others that do the same thing (as others)
that i do, yet with more good friends
with more important memberships
with heavy solicitations–sell my books, ever heard of pulp?
pulping happens.
with more performances at more trendy publishing houses
at more hipster coffeehouses.
i also wrote a poem today that wont get noticed.
like everyone else(s).
it is bigger than pale generalizations.
more complex than a Saltine cracker
and its box–squarely.
you know, i wont put some same sign in my shitty yard
for people to like.
for i dread mowing and wont water for more work.
the neighbors enjoy my company already, go ask.
there isnt enough space on it already too,
to say what i want to say, with open meaning,
and it wont make the community feel better anyway
because no group backs it, i havent donated to prove i believe,
and because it would say: each individual should do better
themselves as a unique individual, individualists themselves.
because if it were that easy to fix the neighborhood, with signs,
then everyone would be doing it…
and if the doorhandle opens the door i won’t fix it either.
even if i kick the door in and the handle is still on it,
then probably the doorhandle still works.
like poetry–it doesnt take much really.
getting noticed though…
so i dont know what else to write,
that’s true or fiction or thought.
besides: nothing special here, just i notice(d)
and i think you should too.

May 14, 2017

get away from it all (mn state parks)

Minnesota state parks do it for me,
like Prozac for some. And less
expensive, and less expensive counseling.
You know you always need to come back
to get better, to pay the doctor,
to make sure the pills are working…
For this i just need a sticker, it’s $25 dollars
and there are no commercials or brochures.
This is better: the ca-chunck of a cold can,
the wetted splash of a distant paddle,
waves calmly lapping my naked feet
in May waters of the St Croix.
here, i think Minnetonka moccasins
should be call Dominican Republic moccasins;
because that’s where they are made, really.
(please see the label for their local status.)
i found my sister’s pot-of-gold lure mimic’d,
twisted it on, threw it out: caught nothing
but a buzz and rocks and sun.
Line gone, line spun, line done.
Watched a lady smell pine sap
her dog lashed to a leash nigh,
she covertly hid her keys on her tire,
as we watched,
and she played Bob Dylan on a ukulele
before the slowly coming dusk.
i watched a child just hang in an ergo baby all day.
i saw the light cut through.
Drank liquids from an orange Nalgene.
Saw the reflection off brown current
cause camera obscura on some island bark,
made my pole dance and my eyes hurt too.
Still i got no fish… not even a bite.
Names cut to rock with metal or twig
in hearts to prove they love, maybe still.
More sap on the pine–i want a whiff too.
i’ll tell you something true.
Once, i wrote a good poem here for a class
that didn’t care. It was about killing bugs. Should have
read the other one comparing me to Picasso–it didn’t matter.
MN state park days are the best to get away.
my shoulders turned a shade of red
and they do label me a shade of white.
Been black and blue, purple, green and yellow too.
my mind thought about what the sign meant
as vessels drifted by, people yelling.
looking for their open sites, theirs.
neosavages, these: European, free, socially aware,
middle-class, their Prius’s and Subarus parked,
tents popped up, foraging in rented canoes,
life vests and manufactured paddles. Pointing like pioneers.
We are still too close to the city i suppose
And the DNR’s new 100 percent reserve policy
on all the good campsites
has them coming in intellectual droves
and this time they bring science not god,
(well at least some.)
Cutting out the day-tripper maybe-stayers in their prime!
Not sure what is worse…
How does a regular guy get away from it all anyway?

March 28, 2017

how to be a thoughtful globalist in the wake of fake intellectuals

this would make me empassioned, or
impassioned.  i am passionate about this something…
that’s how i get
when neo-globalists
who’ve never left the states
try to fix
other people’s problems
with
their English language exclusively.
the irony of westernization; fixed only by itself. YOU SEE?
and that is what they call backwards and selfish.
tho, there will be no stories of this on the news.
because just get out there and disrupt because.
and they should
call those who
think locally “nationalists” too.
a bunch of loud fools.
you know, somethings don’t translate.
you know, people might have different opinions.
this is how language works.
so when they/you designate
their/your ideas, ideations, and ideologies
as such, i just smh in realtime.
so silly, so stupid, so same.
that is why i am a where-ever-i-am-at-ist,
because i am right there,
i can attempt to understand
what i see and experience around me,
for me, for truth, for better.
maybe even for you…
but honestly, not for you (i don’t care)
or the tv (forget tv), i won’t facebook livestream it
or create a clever sign that
gets thrown away next day in some ironic carbon footprint
(that you too should actually hate)
after the post and the filter and the likes–fretter fakes.
and that is what i am passionate about,
or empassioned about, or impassioned about,
all that is around me
because i can touch it tangible,
as they said, i can feel the real,
i can set the clock next to the bed.
and there is something about language and labels.