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Slapping high-fives while our Species nosedives

BACK THEN those who resisted & bravely persisted:

For a ‘just vision’
they lost their jobs
landed in prison
beaten by mobs

Cruelly confined
gruesomely grilled
majorly maligned
some even killed

Still courageous & strong
stood against what was wrong

*

WHILE NOW in these splendid times:

Such actions quaint
would involve restraint
might make us faint
so favor complaint

Habitat we extirpate
while keep slapping high-five
from duties we abdicate
while Species takes nosedive!

What?! Slowing global warming
through ‘personal’ action?
Few, despite plenty warning
seem adjust one fraction

In these thrilling times ‘morality’
suffers high rate of mortality

 

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Dagsvers frimodig fast förstås urmodig

Finner vi prosa mer trim
än versstrof med klämkäckt rim?

Bland nätets glitter och twitter
kanske vi helt enkelt inte törs
undra på vad vi försitter
om vi förbiser något på vers?

Bortkastat att sej besvära
med att föreslå dagsvers
till mänskor fint litterära
som läser högre slags vers?

Kanske diktarn själv blev för egenkär
å med dagsvers ställer blott till besvär?

+)
-dagsvers = “En dagsvers är en kommentar till det som nyss har skett, en snabb replik, ett syrligt svar, ett infall rätt och slätt” – Lotta Olsson, vars vers en gång i tiden kunde finnas regelbundet i bl.a. de stora dagliga tidningarna

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Is searching for Reality the ultimate futility?

Do we dare search for ‘Reality’
certain that we do want it found?
Shan’t it be abject futility
in our culture fantasy gowned?

‘Reality’ has turned plurality
awash in all sorts inanities
Ain’t it then just fumbling futility
trying sort from among vanities?

Not being guided by what’s objective
we got lost in reams of dreams subjective

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The Leaf Blower: Just shifts dirt in winked collusion

I nominate as emblematic
while Flora & Fauna glower
of Society symptomatic:
The ubiquitous Leaf Blower

Its credentials are compelling:
* Viciously vociferous
* Dust stirring jet, fetid smelling
* Exhaust carboniferous

Factually there’s no disputing
it’s to Nature quite abusive
being so profusely polluting
and to Neighborhoods intrusive

It replaces rasping raking
of erstwhile such enjoyment
and while by ‘techno fix’ faking
it creates unemployment

Its shortsightedness enigmatic
does not provide a solution
Of our carelessness symptomatic
just shifts dirt in winked collusion!

So by pretense are we then absolved
though the core issues remain unsolved?

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No wind in face

Asks cyclist amidst ‘metal boxes on rubber’
predatorily sleek or overreach blubber:

So in love head over heels
with their crisply gleaming
well appointed ‘caves on wheels’
why aren’t drivers beaming?

On soft seat behind windshield
might driving perhaps be
in climate control congealed
akin to watch TV:

Like sealed off, stale behind chromed grill?
No wind in face, crisp morning chill.

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Rubber sword gladiators

Oh, what nonsense conferred
Claiming it is us who drive
while in backseat chauffeured
How we presume & connive!

We wobble gushingly inane
Us boorish bloviators
we hobble on presumption’s cane
rubber sword gladiators

We ignore contradiction
with our suavest diction
Our syntax dereliction
turns pureed affliction

Between reality and fiction
there’s absolute absence of friction

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To the plight of others blind?

If ours not staunch frugality
(time out here for shocked gasping!)
but a stingy mentality
of plain greedily grasping

Aren’t we rather shark teethed & finned
of others plight coldly blind
oblivious, harsh or thick skinned
while to self indulgent kind?

So ingrained shall we comprehend
what is our life, lived to what end?

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Yeah but, I’m really not sure what you mean?

Planet privatization
while polar caps melting
Gobbling globalization
while hurricanes pelting

Economic disparity
in consumptive temerity
Political polarity
for us people austerity

Perpetually prodigious predation
leaving victims without restitution
Usurious financialization
where’s its societal contribution?

Fades now erstwhile solidarity
in rear mirror’s celerity
with jaded familiarity
and counterfeit sincerity

“Yeah but, I’m really not sure what you mean
as been importantly tied up on my screen?”

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Years in arrears

Amidst glistening trees in morning mist
we’re feeling charged by auspicious jolt
as raises curtain on a new day kissed
but then to ruckus routine we bolt

Sadly short of heart, courage & mettle
jostled toward bodily demise
for ’security’ we strive to settle
but unattainable, so unwise

Days drafting days in life’s waning years
A few cheers, then we’re out on our ears

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Where do not-lived-in verse go?

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