Posts tagged ‘Perspective’

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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February 12, 2018

point the finger

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

April 5, 2017

social sensitivities

here i see social sensitivities
so let’s stretch
his hands out and ride the 16
to the 67 to wind in the face and more wait…

or really cry about
something that won’t happen, ever.
like justices being served in prison terms;
like i won a million dollars.
and the crux of the biscuit is:

we know jason isbell personally,
sort of through someone else, a best friend,
through someone else, a wife,
through someone else, a bandmate
and probably not.

Bourdain said it right tho…
right there on the tv
with Bill Murray over Budweiser
or whisky or wine or food or jagermeister…

all because of a tee shirt
all because of a wet cough

and some sort of talk about needed monies.
but that’s truly a redundancy.

seeing pretty houses and i might buy mine own
all from the comfort of this overpriced rental,
on my living room couch,
just sitting next to you.

September 17, 2016

Life of Bella, the Dog’s Perspective

outside sidewalk.
ruff!

other dogs OUT THERE!
ruff!

underneath
the maple trees.

***

what can i
put
in my mouth
and chew? ….

***
i smell something:
a sock.

maybe i’ll eat it
and shit it
out in the
backyard later…

get yelled at.

***

no. i’ll eat
this peanut butter

toast right here
on the table.

play with my toy.

November 3, 2015

constant reminder

i supposed
i’d rather listen
to the room’s
pipes bang,
& put the kettle
to the rang,
and have
a clear mind,
than think
about why
i woke up
late last night.
they say the
artist will
starve, but the
cat, and the
bills, and the
debt, and the
truck, and the human
food, and the rent,
all those things
are enough to do
you in. but
i’d rather not
think about that,
those things are
just moments,
and most things
do change.
seems i am
constantly
reminded when
noticing
the colors fade,
and the bare
nude trees,
and the cold
chill in
foreign winds of
new seasons.

September 23, 2015

whether weather

maybe rain
maybe sun,
maybe IDK
another day

September 10, 2015

alive

days i wake bolt upright
nothing but happy.

it is here in southeast
or la crosse, or la crescent,

or whittier, or uptown
or dublin, or Washington Ave

where no one alive
can take that away.

nothing but happy here,
just to hit that snooze.

August 10, 2015

untitled 10/08

The sound of white fan blades, nimble cat’s feet,
and heavy outside traffic
woke with the beeping alarm.

Monday life was on its way,
just before breakfast, shower and shave.

Pieces of inspiration fell off in stretches
and movements onto the wooden floor.

As a backdoor opened to musty wet rugs
and well watered plants,
at a place where occupants had been days away.

Coming to again as rebirth:
a second, a minute, a day, a week, a moment chance;
where we’d thought we’d be now is the past.

We were housed by such movements
of certain contraptions, waking, stirring, just as—
sounds and actions unplanned,

came over and overlapped.

August 4, 2015

Bridges of Northeast

Abandoned train bridges make for the best retreats,
Under empty blue skies which remain always there.
Cotton wood branches waved leaves as a busy fleet,
Fading summer months made all those about aware.

August 3, 2015

City Vantage

In varied ways
The city’s buildings stand;

Tall as they are, up with birds
And clouds,

Holding those lives
Seething, going, and watching
There inside.

Mazes put up for institutions,
Humans go about with same minds.