Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
Never thought of as mere trivia
when there’s something that we lament
manners dispatched to oblivia
leaving us unrestrained to vent
That pebble on our path
turns into mighty mountain
precipitates our wrath
spewing from ire’s fountain
Does trying to hide away in what’s trivial
create but fleetingly a mood convivial?
Make sure to keep any facts
freely adjustable
In case they restrain your acts
make them combustible
No need to succumb
Treat facts tentatively
for favored outcome
use them lenitively
For evidence is no more facts
than your esteemed opinion!
They needn’t impede your desired act
so don’t grant them dominion!
So if you’ve got a brain
keep facts on a tight rein
+)
-facts = evidence; “Factual evidence, since it is an impediment to what we desire, is banished.” – Chris Hedges
Driven raskt av affekter
annars tyckes urtrist
med urusla ursäkter
för idelig tidsbrist
Mänskligt att storspela
söka briljera
likaså att vela
å kverulera
Var dag jäktande å banal
utan, kan de synas, själskval?
Hellre habegär
än vettig karriär
Hellre sisådär
än hjälpsam karaktär
Struntsnackande skenheligt
i skamlöst hyckleri
Egenkärt å självkeligt
i grymt grunkfrosseri
En gnisslande samhällig kakofoni
i sagolik ‘harmonisk’ idioti
+)
-grunkfrosseri = (påhitt) otyglad konsumtion av grunkor
-idiot = ett ord de gamla grekerna använde om de som var alltför självupptagna å inte brydde sej om samhälle & nation
Never mind I treat him crudely
as I live by this dictum:
He may not talk to me rudely
or I’ll turn aggrieved victim!
So what if I kicked him?
He’s just too hapless
So what if I tricked him?
So sadly sapless
Only I may claim victimhood
at least in my own neighborhood!
In early morning still
not the time to lounge
From early morning’s chill
must keep going, scrounge!
No time shall be wasted
get hopping, scurry!
Much needs to be hasted
stir up a flurry!
For ain’t living calmly, serene
but for laziness a smoke screen?
How lightning fast she shovels
words in to the hopper
phrases flimsy like hovels
while no one can stop her
Nor can she. How sadly
as distracting madly
“All options are on the table!”
Beltway adulterated
phrase, a repeated worn fable
brainwashed, acculturated
Elite chattering
with scrounged-up oompf
in self-flattering
here goes, harrumph:
Blurting the same old canned phrase
(like talking dolls with battery)
piling on Empire’s proud praise
amidst harsh weapons clattery
Virtuous Officialdom
sure to expunge Evil
They stand up for Christendom
and Freedom’s Retrieval!
Those hard toiling ribboned Elite elves
they simply just cannot help themselves
+)
ribboned = here: honored with service ribbons, medals, awards etc
Been traipsing in to Fascism
in brash American style
on filthy rug of Racism
spouting sick sentiments vile
Are we finding it acceptable
to indulge denial thinking
of cruelty insusceptible
observing while barely blinking
But all ain’t lost, thanks to Kakistocracy
we’ve been saved from worse: Social Democracy!
Ever iridescent
loftily Perfection soars
allure effervescent
unmoved by she who implores
Through ages in vain beseeched
humans have grasped for Perfection
Hotly pursued, rarely reached
adamant in its rejection
Crimped as by pitiless pliers
or hammered flat on anvil, yammered
then thrown in to rejection’s fires
Still pursues our species enamored
then thrown in to rejection’s fires.
Still pursues our species enamored.