Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
Ödet knastnar på grusgången
dundrar:”Färdigskrutit å rutet!”
Raspigt, svagt svamlas svansången
blev genomdränkt det sista krutet
Plägade stolt hålla den högt
hoppets häftigt flammade fackla
Numera uttröttad arm krökt
sen viljekraften börjat vackla
Rättfärdigt att vi ringaktas för vårt pjosk
mens letar efter nattöppen korvkiosk
Blown in Twitter storm
amidst benign bloopers
howling locust swarm
of goosestep storm troopers
Under guise of virus relief
they’re bent on making the sky darken
up to their usual mischief
hoping we’re too busy to harken
The Power Elite doesn’t work for our protection
nevertheless we whimper in genuflection
before the virus pounced
would we be in ‘house arrests’?
Life as we knew it trounced?
While for scientists problematic
since turned inept & erratic
by boastful meddling trumplematic
while his base cheers on ecstatic!
Of such noble creed & greed
how come ‘leadership’ lackluster?
Why won’t this Virus pay heed
to blaming, bully & bluster?
While humans poorly embrace
uncertainty iniquitous
forced to stoutheartedly face
our misgivings ubiquitous
Whether Covid-19
or Climate Collapse
slow down or turned routine
or raucous relapse
While seldom do few seconds elapse
when we’re spared marketing & wiretaps
Ung å glad vår David
fann sin livsstil populär
de va innan COVID
så numera sisådär
Likt andra som ej fyllt nitton
i sitt unga liv försmådd
fått betala utan kvitton
av oss äldre fegt förrådd:
Vi grumlade om livet grymt å urtrist
när vi borde ha ordnat till det rättvisst
+)
David = här: en betecknande ung person, som har rätt att vänta sej bättre
with outcomes looming unclear
both unhinged & unforgiving
when we ‘converse’ by bronx cheer
Best not resort to piety
nor indulging propriety:
Just hold that leash short & tight
or she’ll run wild, Anxiety!
On darkening path of blight
below clouds of dubiety
För några år sen prövade vi sätta potatis på vår svenska gård:
Efter att planterat potatis
(förstås ett angenämt bestyr)
fattar jag inget kommer gratis
ej utan valkiga blessyr
Vad som springer från varje grodd
har vi stadsbor uppfattning?
Men att av naturen berodd
har jag nu viss uppskattning!
Så fylles djupt den stundliga tidsramen
med glädje å frid för själ å lekamen
in midst of bathetic prattle
Now, who would have guessed?
Found dead, travel attired
clutching to his chest
Swedish passport expired
The world had once been his to roam
died a wizened homebody gnome
We allow little latitude
while stingy on encomium
As plenty persons’ rectitude
prove brittle like chromium
In such numbers
among us
they lumber
humongous
While few those marching erect
on Life’s path proudly perfect
Earth of such bounty & beauty
we reduced it to mere booty
Don’t we fake most everything
traipsing on the brink of collapse
while fantasy worshiping
subjects us to bizarre relapse?
Out of touch with Life’s essence
we hasten Earth’s senescence
We’re wringing out our own life
while striving to be ‘safe’
in blind, self-entitled strife
neglecting the poor waif
We may find redemption
if we own up and then cease
No-let-slide exemption
fills a turmoiled heart with peace
If life entails morality
how serves us then banality?