Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
Poems in English
When we prattle & gush
our words get overweening
like wild waterfalls rush
washes away most meaning
When we’re letting fly
with sentences mangled
it shall go awry
til communing strangled
Words which rapidly multiply
won’t explain, cannot clarify
As humans we stagger
in endless desert
keeping up the swagger
digging for paydirt
While our lives set to go awry
why letting cowardice disgrace us?
Don’t despair & lie down & die
just one sand dune til the oasis!
Life’s purpose may be unknowable
at least to humans nebulous
but if in brief glimpses showable
ought that not get us emulous?
What if albeit just for this day
we’d grasp & walk Universe’s way?!
A puzzling precedent
when the Elites coalesce
round a past President
and craftily reassess:
Ain’t Bush2, the Iraq war criminal,
well on way on his own road liminal?
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liminality = (Latin līmen: a threshold) is the quality of ambiguity that occurs in the middle stage of a rite of passage, when participants no longer hold their pre-ritual status but have not yet begun the transition to the status they will hold when the rite is complete
Noticed someone stared
looking mighty unkind
stressed me that it dared
left me feeling maligned
Neighbor’s small dog’s nostrils flared
got me triggered, re-traumatized
with its rice-sized-shaped teeth bared
behooved me getting authorized:
to reclaim my fair share of trauma
indulge my symptoms in high drama!
While proven wrong
myths been cemented
by now since long
turned minds demented
Fantasies sweet scented
in hapless hyperbole
excuses invented
passed off as reality
As U.S. exceptionalism being denuded
in wilful ignorance citizens hide deluded
Am edging close to my life’s rim
blurred in opaque sketchiness
am hobbling on aging’s path dim
cobbled with much pettiness
That which lies beyond the mundane
sensed by the soul, knows not the brain
“Am dying to be slim”, the rat had told them. Life Itself listened in.
A rat rotund felt bereft
been bemoaning his plight
of being fat. Didn’t look left
skipped as well looking right
He stepped into traffic
met a fate most dire:
En end grisly graphic
crushed by a truck’s tire
When found at daybreak
he had been flattened slim
While friends in heartbreak
sort of happy for him
Be careful how you use hyperbole
it may just turn into reality!
From their luxurious dreamboats
‘calm!’ commands they’re unheeding
elites scramble for the lifeboats
trampling us while stampeding
The elites perform by stealth
elsewhere they’ll disembark
with their self-entitled wealth
as per ‘me first’ hallmark
Those cold-hearted ‘point one percent’ flee first
for solidarity they have no thirst
Fruitless try mess with life’s mystery
humans like trees must shed their ‘leaves’
thus we’re are already history
For now rarely freed from life’s peeves
Although fruitful trying live with compassion
which gives Life meaning, be it out of fashion
Planet now gasps polluted
choked by foul breathing fossil fuel
Cannot be restituted
so who are we trying to fool?
If unshackling from what we’re doing
still leaves Earth drained, parched & heated
there cannot be any undoing
how our children have been cheated!
Even if we’d no longer deplete
and agreed upon zero growth
can we put an end to our conceit
& break away from under sloth?
Maybe try out frugality
which does have a winsome knack
instead of the banality
letting shopping have our back?
Better live forgoing
than perish elbowing