Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
With your nose on smart phone screen
wholly unrestricted
like snorting stuff up the nose
you may be ‘addicted’
Makes you feel ascendent
like anything goes
Even seem transcendent
when you’re in its throes
while just lit by the sheen
from flat fantasy’s screen
Alltid lika genuin
i sin kraftfulla bil
som bälgar i sej bensin
kör han i komfort, stil
De Gröna håller på å hyckla
med ”Kör mindre, försök å cykla!”
Men han har ju listat ut
klimatkollaps en ‘Grön’ komplott!
De borde väl veta hut
röra till sån korkad kompott!
Han vet att ganska snart
ska visa sej uppenbart
att klimatet så rart
blir svalare å hållbart!
Så han fortsätter köra utan ånger
och njuter i doften av bensinångor
Originally written during the first Trump presidency
Acquiesced to the Upper Classes
propagandized, maligned Masses
now fawningly fall for Fascism
turn foot soldiers for Barbarism
Incited by The Leader’s rants
join jumbling frantic forces
while shrewd sycophant fancy-pants
play on God-owned golf courses
Still some seem surprised, haplessly forlorn
Had we not seen enough be to forewarned?
+)
apotheosis = the elevation or exaltation of a person to the rank of a god
Prior to restored eyesight
was bumbling benighted
had felt anxious & contrite
with outlook unsighted
I just couldn’t envision
the light beyond cataract
before the incision
had seemed remotely abstract
Since as if by Kliegs enhanced my eyesight
would that next my soul shall fill with insight!
+)
Klieg = an intense carbon arc light especially used in film making
If you attempt nuance and grace
you may come across as ‘wise’
to those aces in verbal Mace
and they’ll cut you down to size
Cliches they’ll shout
thought-ending
absent all doubt
truth-bending
Their bearing & manners cocky
think Life is but football, hockey
+)
– mace = an aerosol that irritates the eyes
– wise = here: as a wise guy; a know-it-all
Feeling ignored, down in the dump
whether you by mere dumb luck
have gotten famous rich & plump
or by own persistent pluck?
Case you still feel neglected
not having chump minions like Trump
try not feel too dejected
imagine you’d been a sump pump:
You’d gurgle & clank in cellars wet, dark & dank
doomed underground regardless of how hard you crank!
Shiny the lacquer
that positively screams:
“Here drives no slacker
but someone lives their dreams!”
Lighting, screens gleaming
painted darkly, sized huge
with gadgets teeming
No measly subterfuge!
Keeps conniving
through windows tinted
pushing, driving
to self unstinted!
But not hard to figger
why the rush to bigger:
Mighty fortress wheeled
of menacing power
as cave, as crutch, shield
We’re King in our Tower!
Should you ask perchance
what is my opinion
I may look askance
can’t be your dominion?
Could you leave it unasked?
Be it of my own making
got set up in the past
mortified, poor pride aching
So won’t be baited yet again
aftermath just too cruel
So I’ll adamantly abstain
being again that old fool
Even when earnestly solicited
my opinion won’t be elicited
Since the Romans has echoed the jingoistic cry ‘Dulce et Decorum est Pro Patria Mori’ or ‘It is sweet and right to die for one’s country’:
Awash in gushing
about what’s ‘sweet & right’
while not much blushing
of others’ dead end plight
While some ‘laid down’ their lives
at home Jingoists grandstand
keep slapping their high-fives
while just The Dead know first-hand
But why bother taking time to reflect
when easier just accept or reject?
I livet vi oss klantar
både till själ å kropp
oroar oss å fjantar
om påhopp å blodpropp
Syns livet oss för torrt
förutan snabbmat
eller åskådarsport
skryt eller kallprat?
Gömmer vi oss i tomhet eller fromhet
var å en sin egen atlet eller profet?