Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
mired in rapacity
would attempt get it righted
be just audacity?
What if human lives go awry
because burdens be lightened?
Ain’t humanity getting by
despite it’s unenlightened?
Grab instead for distraction
as pastime gleaming stuff
easier than take action
which seems risky & rough
So keep smiling hoping to impress
in a dapper suit or low-cut dress
Ut iväg på vida färden
till helt inbillad förtjänst
Fastnade ute i världen
gjorde mej själv en otjänst
Efter mången frestelsers famnar
om än hände i bakfylla
i vilken håla man nu hamnar
måste jag väl mej själv skylla!
En utvandrare struntviktig
kortsiktig å oförsiktig
Förr bodde jag i ett luftslott
Helt förtvivlat hur gement
om ändå jag hade förstått!
Men som tur blev ej försent:
lyckats undfly nutida skärmar
där luftslottsfantasier svärmar!
Att söka efter långt borta
det som redan finns hemma
får oss att komma till korta
av det bör vi oss skämma
Here’s a gripping tale non-dripping
of hermetically sealed
tight container of cream whipping
with the longest lasting yield
A packaged whipping cream
truly ‘shelf stable’
long the hostess’ dream
for the smart table!
But won’t stabilize a wobbly shelf
Repeatedly tried and failed myself
+)
-‘shelf stable’ = (marketing lingo) the cream stays fresh for a few months in an unopened container outside the refrigerator – while the package is useless for stabilizing a wobbly shelf
Might we lived our life
differently
not ducking from strife
diffidently?
Of course if no ‘free will’
we may relax, chill
life but a puppet drill!
Can’t let it go still?
But then clearly & consequently
we cannot WILL living attently
On fantasy’s waves
the Trumpwhale is splashing
with his pod of knaves
believing he’s dashing
When shall the Trumpwhale
get washed up, out of speech
muddied, in weak wail
on Reality’s Beach:
Cluelessly
gasping!
Crewlessly
grasping!
Let’s keep hoping, while prospects grim
as among sharks he learned to swim …
Finally, at long last
done with my past unfolding
slammed the door shut, steadfast
without regret or scolding
For the wizened dawdler
is not life’s true bestowment
as for the rushed twaddler
peace of mind in the moment?
When focusing on a worthwhile current chore
we may find peace now & the next twenty-four
+)
twenty-four = 24 hours
Waiting in line at the bank
Pompous Temple of Usury
Floor marbled, breathing air dank
smells like a Goosery of Greed
Manager supercilious
tellers aptly pedantic
Banks prudently punctilious
ambience un-Vedantic
Of Money too easily sycophantic
as urge for earthly riches turns us frantic
This verse was inspired by grandson Mikey when as a small boy he romped on top of the windlass in the bow of HMS ‘Queen Mary’, moored in Long Beach, CA since 1967. Of course ‘sic transit gloria mundi’ ship wise, while Mikey is still in his prime as a young man.
On polished upper decks: splendor & light
a display of power, riches & fame
while in the ship’s belly toiled crew out of sight
Times past like today, remaining the same
In her day the flagship of empire
enterprise, industry & might
albeit were it soon to expire
based more on arrogance than right
Many a storm howled around the crew in the con
No longer sets her bow in huge waves rushing on:
The windlass a stage for a toddler’s romp
as parents watch by gleaming gunnels
Without fail shall fade circumstance & pomp.
The ship a play field with three funnels
Now an amusement park in a disparate age
the ‘Queen Mary’ languishes moored in a zoo’s cage
+)
-funnel = smokestack, especially on a steamship
-gunnels = the upper edge of a ship’s side
-the ‘Queen Mary’ held the ‘Blue Ribbon’ speed record across the Atlantic after averaging 31 knots in 1938, between New York and Southampton
Worrying, wobbly & old
his eyes bleak, heart & body cold
Integrity long since sold
a life story not needing told
Shifty much like a sand shoal
covered with tears & mold
dark & shallow is his soul
No hope getting re-souled
Locked away in old age’s cage
stowed & forgotten backstage