Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
With scant knowledge of history
some of us lack perspective
allows the Elite’s sophistry
to provide slant deflective
Media gives space generous
for each crisis made to seem
unforeseen, sui generis
as per Power Elite’s scheme
covering up by spin in profusion
failing that with a ‘pretend solution’
True facts can’t grow or contract
Facts shall remain facts regardless
of wished-for outcome or tact
They are neither kind or heartless
Opinions are but opinions
oft self-serving, subjective
nothing but a claque of minions
milling around affective
Ain’t it these days to facts we take offense
while opinions we airily dispense?
Well anchored in the mundane
a kindly well wisher
won’t worry about methane
was never a phisher
A good parishioner
proudly pragmatic
never a missioner
vaguely dogmatic
Another human afraid & flawed
seeking shelter in a world of fraud
Now longer ‘esse quam videri’
but rather the other way around
Of ancient wisdom we have grown weary
not letting others’ insight confound
These days largely perception
now ‘seem’ equals ‘to be’, truly!
Keeping up the deception
displaying presumption coolly
Be a showoff and act headstrong
and they may not suspect you’re wrong!
+)
-esse quam videri = ‘to be, rather than to seem (to be)’
Finding this ‘ship’ (or a perhaps a similar one)
https://www.princess.com/ships-and-experience/ships/gp-regal-princess/
docking in my home port of Gothenburg indignantly inspired this verse:
Those cruise ships ascensive
intrusions ostensive:
Floating (so over the top)
huge high rise city blocks
propelled by huge churning prop:
Cruising crescendo rocks!
Railed clueless passengers
grinning & gawking
they’re tourism’s scavengers
while locals mocking
Ship of schlock
please don’t dock!
+)
railed = here: lined up along the ship’s rail
Meet Life’s Fool
thinks he’s cool
Such jewel
lets us drool
Sillily, grinning
he’s on a tear
“For sure, yeah, winning!”
confident cheer
He saunters, skipping
down the boardwalk:
“Who’s tripping, slipping
talk of cakewalk!”
Then walks on to the pier
thinks “No one hotter
I’m the guy to revere
walking on water!”
In Summer sun’s bright glare
all blindingly clear
embraced by fawning air
“I’m untouched by fear!”
“No way I’m compromising
got it all handled, thanks!”
His eyes fixed on horizon:
so he walks off the planks!
Wild curses from waves below
indignant voice in snort:
“How was I supposed to know?
Who built the pier too short?!”
Surely you have noticed how many pedestrians insist on crossing busy streets diagonally after not being bothered walking to an adjacent street corner or crosswalk? Behavior that puts others at risk be damned if we can save a few steps – even absurdly so when out walking or running for exercise!
Not in this Homeland Star Spangled
crossing streets, or at corners
do we ever walk right-angled
That’s for rigid foreigners!
In ‘One Nation under Shortcuts’
diagonally we proudly cross
whether for dire needs or donuts
We’re, as freedom lovers, our own boss!
We dash out between parked cars
into the busy street
without a ‘look left-right’ pause
with nose on screen or eat!
Except when marching off martially
poor small weakly armed nations to mangle
which is done globally, most harshly
Then our troops turn smartly in right angle!
In our earthly lives cruelly bechanced
of unremitting suffering
we chase after stuff & fun romanced
as Reality buffering
How we race & rush
but does it really work
while we grin & gush
like if some clueless jerk?
Still we try detouring in distraction
which remains our major daily action!
Under Internet’s spell
we snappily yack & yap
away on our crisp cell
Heedless of that it’s a trap:
All those on-screen ad clones
pretend they us adulate
while noses on smart phones
from Life us alienate
We’ll come to regret the barren blight
on what seems a ‘safe connection site’!
+)
-‘safe connection site’ = alludes to ‘safe injection site’ where addicts can ‘safely’ shoot up
Never thought of as mere trivia
when there’s something that we lament
manners dispatched to oblivia
leaving us unrestrained to vent
That pebble on our path
turns into mighty mountain
precipitates our wrath
spewing from ire’s fountain
Does trying to hide away in what’s trivial
create but fleetingly a mood convivial?