Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
A verse lacking lived subject
neither uplifts or stings
It won’t engage & project
if lacks air under wings
If the writer didn’t perspire
it won’t grab or aspire
it simply cannot inspire
verse is doomed to expire
A hardly missed verse
carted off by hearse
+)
-lived = here: experienced first hand by the versifier
At night phantasmagorias churning
suppress one, others proliferate
Fitfully asleep tossing & turning
worries pack punches, regurgitate
The petty & inane astound
like stuck inside a theme park
By heels, face down on grimy ground
dragged around in fog & dark
At last: Morning’s first light gets me reprieved
awake, sweat drenched, elated and relieved
Why don’t we even begin to care
when stumbling around on rubble?
We cannot of action be aware
while mired in fantasy’s bubble!
Why is it our unstoppable quest
while the planet keeps on fading
to soil our irreplaceable nest
and to still keep right on raiding?
Such is the ubiquitous ignominy
of the hapless consumer economy
My aging body aches & creaks
as does Creation, what’s new?
Feeble eyes catch but blurry peeks
Soon I’ll be out of here, phew!
What if my body is but mere glove
of That Eternal Self High Above?
Consumer electronics, what impatience
be they alarms, smart phones, pads or scanners!
Where went subtlety, flirtation, elation
as well courtesy, humor & manners?
Outpouring in relentless profusion
steeped in undiscerning commotion
Suspended in a Land of Illusion
pounding away in self promotion
High time now to disengage with forethought
as fear being changed in to a robot!
Wondering as morning light fades in:
“Did I get the starting time wrong
time soon for my Real Life to begin?”
Well, it’s been throbbing all along
Was a mailed engraved invite expected?
If you’re Twitter or motion-activated
take a deep breath, try ‘inner directed’!
Because ‘taking charge’ can’t be delegated
If of change you keenly aspire
act now! Your life may soon expire …
Small boys & girls darting on bikes
untiringly they explore
in streets, trekking on backyard hikes
“Watch me! watch me!”, they implore
Hover their ‘hood tiny voices’
Each moment full of movement
in Summer’s endless play choices
Movement fills every moment
Fully one with the moment
Life’s ultimate bestowment
When my spouse was enthusiastically on a raw food diet:
Dicing
mixing
fixing
whisking!
After peeling
with feeling
not done chopping
til dropping
Yes! resoundingly to: drying
No! abhorrently to: frying
Raised overhead her clenched paw
when serves another meal
Joyce to the world: “All go raw!”
She’s got you a raw deal!
+)
-go raw = here: a raw, i.e. uncooked diet
Rushing is so much fresh fun
as ‘my sweet life’ has just started
must have a great rat race run
for which I’ll fight lionhearted
Life ought not ask anything from me
exect to enjoy indulging!
Just love staying busy, can’t you see
cupboards, debt & midriff bulging
Out of breath, speech smattered
need to somehow find more time!
Heart & mind all scattered
got no time to waste on rhyme!
When twenty with insolent surety
did he dance on impunity’s floor
At forty untouched by maturity
At eighty wondering: What’s in store?
Rigidity gels primmer
Slender skills keep slimming
Gruesome prospects grow grimmer
Short term recall dimming
His a portrait that rankles
clownish in aging’s rust
Slogging up to the ankles
in Life’s circus sawdust
While squandering social security
in self-obfuscating obscurity