Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
Back then had seemed remote, unknown
would seem like fatuity
when up on to these shores tossed, blown
but since turned fortuity
By winds, were they happenstance
brought me in disaffect
On waves, were they circumstance
in life I was shipwrecked
Back then I was downed, almost drowned
Since then blessed on dry steady ground
+)
these shores = here: the US Pacific Northwest
Hey, Nose on Screen, waiting to chew
check this nifty ‘winglet’ thing!
They are rarely more than just two
one at the tip of each wing.
Whether of much use those winglets
or the plane a sleek cygnet
whether most pilots wear singlets
or air travel mere figment:
Still heart & soul of air travel
seems the ‘wheeled larder’? Take heart!
No risk in sky to unravel
for here rolls the service cart:
Heavenward passengers scoot!
Of winglets, who gives a hoot?
+)
-winglets = small angled wing tip extensions which provide extra lift, reduce drag & fuel consumption (somewhat)
Out riding, lightly pedaling
shall still thoughts which percolate
From the workday’s din deafening
freed to calmly meditate
Shall grant rolling latitude
from our life’s churning grind
Fellowship with solitude
when gliding unconfined
Cycling tempers motorized indulgence
ushers us in to quiet effulgence
Quatrain if lazily loiters
must wheeze, wobble in puncture
While when bravely reconnoiters
shall blow through any juncture
From leisurely spinning cadence
let’s shift up from latency
go cycling with verse’s maidens
with unrestrained ardency
Expressing lucid elation
if ably so in crisp rhymes
may cause to flow a narration
stringed with ethereal chimes
Our bodies, minds now fraying
of erstwhile bounce bereft
Our wrinkles deepened, graying
hair of what little left
Years bland or full were they deft
countless days in reprise
Dragging us by heft & theft
closer to our demise
Arrived at earthly life’s edge
we must not age apart
allow between us no wedge
Together, let’s take heart!
Our bodies, minds now fraying
of erstwhile bounce bereft
Our wrinkles deepened, graying
hair of what little left
Years bland or full were they deft
countless days in reprise
Dragging us by heft & theft
closer to our demise
Arrived at earthly life’s edge
we must not age apart
allow between us no wedge
Together, let’s take heart!
When your phone seemed lost
prima facie
didn’t you blame, accost
going crazy?
Then found! You were returned
from despair’s deepest canyon
No longer were you spurned
by your Dearest Companion!
How you had yearned to be prompted
back in ‘phonily’ graces
charmingly enticed & wanted
held in torrid embraces!
You may find it condescending
if labeled ’smartphonistic’
though hopefully not offending
but simply sybaritic?
Now you’re back in Reality
in cool nuzzling normality!
Spent its vitality
Winter’s worn dulled paws
scratching in rivalry
with Spring’s fresh crisp claws
Ushers warmth’s renewal
along roads drying
blossoms in accrual
while snow melts crying
Spring’s playful winds tender
beginning to blow
sweeping budding splendor
where flowers soon grow
Spent its vitality
Winter’s worn dulled paws
scratching in rivalry
with Spring’s fresh crisp claws
Ushers warmth’s renewal
along roads drying
blossoms in accrual
while snow melts crying
Spring’s playful winds tender
beginning to blow
sweeping budding splendor
where flowers soon grow
Did I at Poetdunk learn verse?
At no university
but since child enjoyed verses terse
which Mom found perversity
Am, it seems, an autodidact
lost in our culture’s group think
Who knows, perhaps to counteract
consumer culture’s hoodwink?
Hence never enrolled in class
just tapping my inner sass
+)
-Podunk = any small and insignificant town
-Poetdunk U = (taking license) any liberal arts college in such town
Riga straddles the mighty river
for all vitality it’ll give her.
She strides on heels stiletto
elegantly arrayed.
Drools over Rigoletto
cultured through her free trade.
Riga shows spires & beauty
from centuries of booty.
+)
mighty river = The Daugava forms deep in Russia and flows out in to the Bay of Riga
edited 09/09/21 1805
Recent Summer days’ hot brow
wiped by Fall’s cool hand by now
Summer’s burgeoning greenery
has now faded quiescent
changed in a tweed hued scenery
of yellow, brown, rubescent
Getting clad in cerise fleece
preparing for chilled caprice