When elites aspire, us common people expire

Elites stir up the howling storm
amidst mellow middling calm
as their interest in us lukewarm
causes them not slightest qualm

Drawn in to empire’s slipstream
amidst paralyzing suction
Another gut-wrenching scheme
inescapable the ruction

As long as the elites aspire
us common people shall expire

I Livets Vinter hjälper inga finter

Kunde jag blott fått ändå
bo kvar i mitt Livs Höst
hade gärna fått pågå
skulle varit sån tröst!

Blev rynklig nu som korinter
en maskros bland hyacinter:

Insnöad i Livets Vinter
nu hjälper inga finter
Jag dillar, irrar å slinter
i ålderns labyrinter

Men enär som ung jag var redan svagt insatt
märks ingen större skillnad nu i hur tafatt

Don’t even a degree from Poetdunk U

Did I at Poetdunk learn verse?
At no university
but since child enjoyed verses terse
which Mom found perversity

Am, it seems, an autodidact
lost in our culture’s group think
Who knows, perhaps to counteract
consumer culture’s hoodwink?

Hence never enrolled in class
just tapping my inner sass

+)
-Podunk = any small and insignificant town
-Poetdunk U = (taking license) any liberal arts college in such town

 

They wave, smile & shake hands

With their careers at stake
our ‘leaders’ lie & fake

Feeling all entitled
why would they concede?
The elite unbridled
in atrocious deed

They’re hawking ‘give & take’
means ‘they take, we give’
Gladly devour our cake
grimly combative

When faced with our demands
they wave, smile & shake hands

The opposite of ‘cowardly? ‘Cow-ardly’!

On noticing a herd of cows grazing on the edge of a shallow lake:

A herd of brown cows grazing
on grass by the water
short-cut future they’re facing
for goodness sake: Slaughter!

In the now’ heroically
as they’re living on the edge
Noses to ground stoically
while astutely skirting sedge

Let’s be courageous in the now
having a field day like a cow!

+)
-cow-ardly = here: the ways of cows, incl their courage & rectitude, which prominently lacking in the humans who exploit them.

Att irra otåliga på genvägar ihåliga

Att kura i feghet
inför naturens grymhet
mänsklighetens glupskhet
vårt eget hjärtas bryskhet

Irra otåliga på genvägar
i stället för att finna utvägar

Från gråblek misantropi
bråk & kakofoni
fullständig idioti
ber jag nu: Sätt mej fri!

Om inte varit så livsoerfaren
hade jag inte slösat tid i baren

On leaving Anten

On leaving our homestead in Anten, Sweden, inspired by Joyce’s eyes moistening over:

Parting’s cool morning thronging
with borders to be crossed
Unrequited her longing
ailed in lingering lost

The old farm an indelible part
lodged lovingly in her tender heart