Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
Hur lång tid kan återstå
i vår hjärtlösa värld
med tillförsikt betonggrå
utanför hemmets härd?
Rasande dess förstörelse
av allting som haft lyster
En snar död min frigörelse
från en tid mörk å dyster
Tills dess min fega åstundan
av finna frid i skymundan
If you hunger for conversation
shall ‘customer service’ phrases
(in copious canned aggravation)
restore the art to good graces?
Rather than a slipshod stroll
mongst hackneyed words teeming
don’t we want to fill our soul
with something redeeming?
What might punctured phrases instill
beyond piling up as word fill?
+)
-conversation = a talk, especially an informal one, between two or more people, in which news and ideas are exchanged – with emphasis on ‘exchanged’
Pugnacious like Prussia
claim Western Values saviors
drab, aggressive Russia
steeped deep in misbehavior
She’s referred to as petulant
in US media news
condescendingly prevalent
in repetitive abuse
Russia is overarmed
unless she disarms
states the U.S. alarmed
with ten times her arms
Russia needs a thorough spanking
Let’s bravely sanction its banking!
Wondrous solace of stillness
eludes us without fail
when electronic shrillness
pierces through nature’s veil
Might one of those clueless clods
(who with such hapless abandon
plugs in their stylish ear pods)
find for Net surfing a stand-in?
How without stillness & solitude
shall we re-connect with rectitude?
Hemskt trist förstås vore han nazist
mens kanske bara narcissist
som uppför sej som dryg egoist
en nyårsaftons fyllerist?
Men väl knappt nått egentligt
att tjata om offentligt?
Som när vi själva utbrister:
Daltande dietister!
Veligt vingliga cyclister!
Självgoda nykterister!
Varför måste vi hålla på å stimma
långt efter glasögonen slutat imma?
Så blir det bara att kämpa
mens hoppas att snart bli frälst
från ännu en ålderskrämpa
Gammal känns ju oftast äldst
Om ej egenkärt dryg
kanske kan jag begära
(om förhastat oblyg)
vad som förment att kräva:
Trots brorsan vittnar att Gud blir berörd
My own life’s trifling past
as part of Humanity
as well (in case you asked)
stifling by inanity
Ain’t reassuring
of what shall come next:
Misery enduring
and no mere pretext
Stuck in the now I remain vexed
trying hide myself from what’s next
Years rushing by her
without slowdown
faster & faster
goes the countdown
Even without disaster
life is the hard taskmaster
So why live in blurred hurry
when to live well in the moment
with its own joy & worry
provides life’s inmost bestowment?
The grass may be thought greener
on the other side of the fence
but if its dog barks meaner
would climbing over make good sense?
Wouldn’t we more appreciate our present
by trying make it egalitarian
so all people could live safe & content
– not just the elites authoritarian
who tells us: Stop the flirtation
get yourselves back in formation!
Sam, a 17 y.o. grandson, did a ‘hat trick’:
There was this footballer named Sam
who swiftly went bam, bam & bam
All without a hair out place
what a cool, good looking ace
Poor goalie could not do a damn
+)
hat trick = scoring three goals in one match