Posts tagged ‘Sales’

January 11, 2015

A Sunday Walk through Dublin

On the streets of Dublin razor-wire hangs from fences.
Seagulls and Magpies dive in headwinds, this sentiment.
From a far off land noting the usual; on the corner is a café,
In the streets are double-decker buses, along the River Liffey
The needy sit, cups in hand, shaking; while padlocks affix
Bridges dressed in rust, only to express an undying love.
On a normal walk on a normal day, thousands of miles from
Home, just on my way – away. I walk to the store for toiletries
And a view. I find a thrift shop and enter to the land of Oz.
Across the street is Religion; with a paper in hand I watch those
Exit from the church, off of their pews, they walk through
The traffic stepping to, righteous, holy, and unamused.

Advertisements
November 26, 2014

Black Friday Sale

Convenient excuse to be excessive,
Spending the money we don’t have.
Bringing cheap products from afar,
Set to come across our open lands.
Exchanging labeled needs for wants;
Buying into a tightly regulated sham.
Ads and companies tell us what is so,
We, the herd of sheep and little lamb.

May 21, 2014

Southern Minnesota Escape

Mother Nature’s gift,
Left the vast cityscape for unpaved ways
Longing for:
Peace
Quiet
And Solace…

Darkness beyond frail eyelids
As it was in the past
Hunter-gatherer sort of habits
Time logged and lost, amassed.

We once foraged
Now we pay for licenses, and pick up trash…

Gasoline—
And leave.

Collect wood
Make a fire
For light’s advantage
-With such a glowing desire.

Night sky bespeckled heavens’ mass,
Walking in circles on matted grass
Just to feel free,
-To feel life.

Smoke trails in our tracks
Cold comes when the blanket above has turned acutely black
Until morning dawns,
The city
The people
The hustle and bustle
The constant intention and interaction…

Out here,
Those things are all gone.

February 3, 2014

At the Rail

At the Rail,

 

At the best spot in the bar

Everyone crowds ‘round me

 

I’ve come so far

Can’t they just let me be?

 

Much work all week

Fleeting warmth with the breeze

 

Free will amidst free drinks

Many fucks not given

Then

We begin

To think…

 

Like-

Fuck me

Fuck you

Another drink

Or new shoes

 

We must make choices too

For the future tried and true

 

I’ve got loans bemoaned only später

Thoughts crowd um der Platz im meine Haar.

 

I don’t know

I’m right there

I ask though

But I don’t care

 

This is life at the rail

 

Happy-got drinks, no fail

More next week, in attempt to prevail.

December 5, 2013

Frozen Life

Frozen face,

Rest of me layered like an onion,

On track-tragen,

Zen composer, it gets colder,

Every day here on out,

Nights we don’t leave the house.

 

Lights tell us the season,

I can see other reasons,

Frost on tree tops bare,

Everyone is hardly prepared.

November 14, 2013

Naked Bits

So many adjectives I get lost in the sentence.

Be plain, John.

Please.

 

Be straight up.

 

Or we have forgotten the original intention.

December 10, 2012

All the Beauty (Of Season)

All the Beauty,

By Terry Scott Niebeling

All the Beauty-

A cold mass hangs in the grey skies;

snowflakes dive about

as the ground comes near,

Tears trickle from frozen eyes.

All the Beauty-

Rosy cheeks touched not by heat,

but by wind harsh as needles,

As we peddle down the street,

Avoiding vehicles and people.

All the Beauty-

Friends for French Press and a baguette at the nearest cafe-

Warm conversation and rest, dry the wet, then progress.

All the Beauty-

Downtown is taken in on this day;

the iced walk ways,

the passing tourist waves,

With the response of a passive gaze.

The way we walk about in a Midwestern Way:

Stop by, but don’t stay; talk a bit, and then stray;

This is the Minneapolis Way.

All the beauty-

Working on display, positive spirit, and

The people we meet as we trudge through along the way.

A nod, a smile, and a wink.

Much time to think.

All the splendid beauty, and time to think.

November 28, 2012

Thanks For Giving

Thanks for giving.

I am thankful for everyone around.

 

Cars lined the streets, loved ones meet and greet-this is no funeral.

We live in this small town.

 

Glasses to blind the light, glasses to cheers, to the night.

Get things right, sit in the seat of that car.

 

The sun spoke in a confusing way.

She said hello and was gone the next day.

 

Sharing stories while we ate.

Unseasonably warm, an unseasonable holiday, heat unseasonably late.

 

Laughing while talking, reminiscing on those who have gone.

They can no longer make it in the flesh.

The herd, stretched tired, rests, then moves on.

 

God Bless.

God or common sense?

Much respect, but this is the present tense.

Hence, I closed the book before the fiction got me entrenched.

 

I don’t speak to those of blood on religion and politics.

Whatever I was, I shrug.

Agree.

 

What I used to be.

 

The rest of your life begins right now.

They don’t see me enough, they don’t see me at all.

 

Food more plentiful, but who will finish what we’ve left when we are full?

 

I wonder, others?

 

No place like this on earth, so small, so quaint, we come from the dirt.

Only to be buried in it, all the land covered in snow and frost for months.

Love this lovely bunch.

 

Daily a memory is lost.

I forgot…

 

Driving around in my mother’s car listening to Prof, the girls at the store notice and I smile as they wave.

 

I come back seldom, just enough to make it seem real.

I fly back to where I am a transplant, and life ticks by.

We all wonder, I wonder if we ever wonder why.