Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
Are us Humans worms in ‘earthly bin’
lacking in context, perspectives
experts only on the ‘mud’ within?
Not sages, at best detectives?
Are we about ‘volition’
conclusively assured
or merely apparition
just anxiously allured?
Is ‘understanding’ a joke cruel
just nothing beyond illusion?
So perhaps I’m but a programmed fool
deeply tangled in confusion?
Still blessed in earthly life when in peace
when restraining ourselves from caprice
Of practical tasks at hand
we’re deftly discerning
thus in impressive command
we keep right on churning
Humans clever on ‘how to’
while on ‘wherefore’ muddled
thus we’re careening askew
solidly befuddled
Soon to become an extirpated race
due to our endless greed & frantic pace
Scarab beetles, unsung
fashion nifty balls
roll swiftly home the dung
on star-guided crawls
No need or reason, none at all
got GPS in our cars
for humans to roll any ball
guided by heavenly stars
Like human greed propels
depletion & pollution
our hubris ever swells
assuring retribution
The beetle may still roll its ball
when humans lack clean water
frantic we’ll trash about & crawl
seas rising, climate hotter
+)
Scarab beetle:
https://www.livescience.com/26557-dung-beetles-navigate-stars.html
Though abundance never suffices
its pursuit seems never to cease
The allure still prods & entices
despite only restraint grants peace
The self’s ceaseless rebellion
rules in full out attack
The ego is the hellion
playing up to the claque
Impatience seems the slave
to the mind scattered
chases us to the grave
as lives blown tattered
Saplings needn’t travel the world
they grew in place & peace
while men in youth’s folly whirled
in impatient caprice
Tree and man now old, flagging:
while thick foliage, man’s hair thin
Both bent & sorely sagging
tree still a tree, man mere has-been
Do tell why pursue & rush around
when at perfect peace in our own ground?
His life’s edging catastrophic:
Seldom hoisted a trophy
Spouted but faux philosophic
Wrote no endearing strophe
Field of ‘talents’ left too long fallow
guts now weak, motivation shallow
Still calls for resuscitation
tries stagger ahead full bore!
No time for procrastination
tries charge with a last gasp roar:
As better a bullet in one’s heart
than fleeing and shot in one’s rear part!
Of rosy hued vigor drained
off course veered, dropped anchor
‘Just’ causes no longer feigned
subsided rush, rancor
Hearing himself he cringes
pompous in the arcane
Laboring on the fringes
struggling with the mundane
No longer plagued in the throes
of fables lastly shorn
About nothing much he crows
gray, worn – but not forlorn
She left ’Solidarity Among Workers’
of Russian People generous and tough
joined here ‘Me-First Apolitical Shirkers’
eager devour abundant, gleaming stuff
Yana’s road steep, long & hard
on feet, bags & credit card
Ever since setting that noble goal
of Costcoite she’s persisted
been excelling in her newfound role
quick, astute, shrewd & tightfisted
+)
-Costcoite: an ace category shopper at Costco
-Muscovite = in this case our neighbor Yana, formerly of Moscow, where her giggles still echoe in its abandoned streets
We’re jumping into the fray
to injure, use up, jaw
As dawns yet another day
we elbow, step on, claw
One more eight billion people raid
bodies bouncing, minds racing
joy, beauty & sanity fade
never mind what we’re facing:
Species die, forests crumble
all brought down way too fast
Glaciers melt, earthquakes rumble
How long can humans last?
Even so we claim this assault
(as we primp for each next day)
is “no way our doing or fault
so let’s get back in the fray!”
+)
-eight billion = here: the planet’s approx human population
Drilling by heedless fracking
oil is pumped emetic
keeps refineries cracking
in a race frenetic
Now, not until 2030
spills and plastic clog our gills
Earth’s water supply fouled dirty
leaves us sipping noxious spills
Now, not only by 2080
in climate catastrophe rife
comeuppance merciless & weighty
Humans left to horrific strife
Unreflective on how affronts amass:
Hubristic Humanity so crass
keeps making the inappropriate pass
Mother Earth is a virtuous lass
+)
-2030 = read: twentythirty