Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
We persist by push & aggress
may advance using cold guile.
We stir up excess, make a mess
crest our material pile.
At last, alas! We thought: Success!
We’re ‘uniquely’ distinguished
but pray tell who did we impress?
Soon we’ll all be extinguished.
Nonetheless not letting up, roiled in strife
Too busy hiding out in daily Life.
On winged feet our ‘indoor racer’
with wild hair flowing, flying
trajects like gun fireworks tracer
eternally she’s plying
Upwardly, leveling stairs
utensils clattering
all with efficiency’s airs
Bystanders scattering
Smoothly she slides round corners
‘smartphonely’ connected
Past cowering bench warmers
on short cuts perfected
+)
-bench warmers = among those her slacker husband
Between Fantasy and Reality
there is now little or no friction
rather perfect congeniality
Dancing cheek to cheek with swift diction
For who’s got time, awash in verbosity,
to pay much attention to dichotomy?
Trashing the planet while we can
ain’t hardly plunder or theft!
With so little remaining, man
not very much left to heft!
No way, not just my opinion
it ain’t me, just take a look:
The Bible commands ‘dominion’
long since read such good a book
Prefer to float on own cloud nine
spouting TV show humor
insisting on rights which are mine
as consummate consumer!
+)
dominion = Psalms 8:6-8
Are words only something we say
(while of use when pray or prey)
often a chatter game, a play
of silly flatter or flay?
Ain’t sweating meaning for fools
and hassle use dictionary?
Words need not be meaning’s mules
No! to word constabulary!
But words still prove useful tools
when needing to allay
or leading gullible fools
on to a path, astray
Although phrases may stray
do gather up a bouquet
when attempting to sway
someone to love or to pay!
Haughty members officiate
in lofty paneled splendor
Each looking the initiate
though who knows mere pretender?
They bow down to Holy Economy
while in pseudoscience dalliance
suspiciously bit like astrology
in mantic Wall Street misalliance
With technocratic virtuosity
interprets the arcane, complaisant
with ceremonious pomposity
befitting Elite turned complacent
Of social justice little said
by those bailed out Capitalist banks
or of folks hanging by a thread
in desperation-filled serf-like ranks
While The Fed & other Elite conspire
to keep people down in debt-ridden mire
+)
-Fed = here: The Federal Reserve Bank. The ‘Central Bank’ of the United States & globally which claims to be independent while owned by banking interests
Lifted beyond mind & heart distraught
Unshackled from self insignificant
Saved from lonely fear & scattered thought
Freed from mortal body recalcitrant
Passion’s waves crash on to eternity’s shore
from turmoil, anger & of guilt relieved
Briefly we rest in immortality’s core
not absolved, momentarily reprieved
While only the most clueless among nerds
dare describe Beethoven’s music with words …
In the early 1920’s through mid 40’s era:
Arm straight at 45 degrees, empty palm down, with jaw jutted upward aligned with arm. Transfixed on Il Duce or Der Fuhrer. Practiced by tens of millions, saluting those fascist unsavory squirts in their black or brown shirts, who stirred up the desperate masses.
In our current era:
Around 90 degrees between upper and lower arm, palm up,
hand slightly rotated inward, head slightly turned with jaw tilted downward.
Transfixed on The Screen. Practiced by billions of distracted, desperate masses some of whom may spend a significant portion of their income on their smarter-than-them phones, which further enrich huge corporations:
“Being stuck on Fantasy’s Screen
like Narcissus focused on his bod
blind to how they fervidly preen
twittering away in ‘nose glued’ plod
So come on, try a detached look:
boorish, self centered banality
living life liking on Facebook
substituting for Reality
In both eras: poses thought beyond cool
Unless one were a ‘nonconformist fool’”
+)
-Il Duce = Benito Mussolini, ruler of Fascist Italy 1922-43
-Der Fuhrer = Adolf Hitler, ruler of Fascist Germany 1934-45
“Strip away the trivial and the banal, the empty chatter and foolish obsessions that fill our days” – Chris Hedges
Indulging each bagatelle
welcoming every distraction?
In our games of show-and-tell
we lack reality traction
Why not live to be able to say
when catches us the Grim Reaper:
‘At least I agonized in the fray
make sure to tell the Gate Keeper!’
Rather in ungainly Reality struggle
than vainly in Fantasy trying to snuggle
Remote entry lights flash, honking horn
just to get into one’s own car?!
Am I the only one left forlorn?
Ain’t this too much, taken too far?
Anywhere left to go to be spared
all that talking, beeping, tinging?
Tell me: Must all ‘happy’ noise be shared
must our ears be buzzing, ringing?
What happened to just plain driving
spared electronic conniving?