Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
Defenders’ strong resistance ignored
by Sam in dazzling, rushed attack floored
Of opposing team awless
he served a pass so flawless
that even his Farfar could’ve scored
+)
-Sam: Our grandson, who provided the pivotal pass in the close 1-0 victory
-Farfar: grandfather in Swedish
In stillness we need not strive for more
as its wind embraces in warm whisper
The past doesn’t whimper, future doesn’t roar
Thoughts may blur, while emotions feel crisper
Into stillness we’re gladly brought
it’s a place where we may be taught
To bourgeois way he lives contrarious
prefers his days with crowd gregarious
Blåsut found fine just ain’t Campania
and nowhere a place like Scania
Let’s his old man live life vicarious
No deep love affair
or flimsy fling
shall ever compare
with that of Spring
A long awaited blessing
Spring said he’d come today
teasingly keeps us guessing
in chilly rain delay
But so what if she’s arrives late
elated, willingly we’ll wait
Clearly too powerful a pastiche
of the stolid Kingdom of Sweden
to persuade itself to unleash
from seeing itself as an Eden:
Where was that Swedish predilection
for well ingrained circumspection
when joined NATO without election
in untoward genuflection?
Swedish deliberations may seem esoteric
to the surrounding, less advanced, world barbaric
I vad som kan kallas
kanske en arvsrätt
t.o.m åkallas
inom viss folkrätt:
I Frankrike ingen bagatell
att var morgon äta sej mätt
i sed djupt förankrad kulturell
på en nybakad färsk baguette
som varje morgon nationellt
bakas fullkomligt manuellt
She knows her mind
her convictions strong
her heart beats kind
discerns right from wrong
Sweet as sound of dulciana
warm as Summer wind in Havana
crisp as Winter in Montana:
That would be our wondrous Anna!
Better known for compassion
than icon of high fashion
Lands in Hesperia
from Bavaria
gripped by hysteria
to Bay Area
Blinded by hypocrisy
deluded we’ve democracy
while owned by plutocracy
we’re ruled by kakistocracy
We’re out of touch with reality
thinking somehow we’re praiseworthy
basking in bubbling hyperbole
telling others they’re blameworthy
In the ‘shining city on the hill’
conceited we carry on at will!
+)
-Bay Area: San Francisco Bay, CA
-Hesperia: Literally “western land”, a term applied by Ancient Greeks to Italy and by Romans to the Iberian Peninsula and Beyond (i.e. America albeit undiscovered)
-kakistocracy = government run by the vile & worst, least qualified and most unscrupulous people (Greek kakistos: worst)
-shining city: “America is, and always will be, a shining city on a hill.” ― Ronald Reagan
Sam, a 17 y.o. grandson, did a ‘hat trick’:
There was this footballer named Sam
who swiftly went bam, bam & bam
All without a hair out place
what a cool, good looking ace
Poor goalie could not do a damn
+)
hat trick = scoring three goals in one match
How happily I’m hounded
by persistent a muse
so gratefully astounded
enthusing out the blues
Am a tree happily barked up
by inspiration infused
It’s brimming over my cracked cup
foamy verbiage suffused
Verses may be pathetic
in pace peripatetic
The language mere cosmetic
both opaque & bathetic
Delivery homiletic
its effect anesthetic
While response found apathetic
why be apologetic?
Very few poets a Byron
or Shakespeare or Neruda
Very few women a siren
and few gurus a Buddha
So what? Won’t us short on talent
at least attempt to be gallant?