Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
Am a wreck in howling storm:
My old knees bit stiff to fold
poor heart runs chilled & warm
wrinkly hands too cold to hold
With ears worn thin and wary eye
I observe Life’s mystery:
Us humans (although we deny)
do hatch our own misery!
In a next life lets apply prudence
as well as ‘uncommon sense’ shrewdness
In the daily juggle
between truth and ruse
where’s the strength to struggle
with what seems abstruse?
Figuring out what Life asks is tough
so easier just to look for stuff!
and melting down in glower
let’s hang back & closely observe
the gentle limber flower:
Allow her abiding stillness
to squelch our contentious shrillness
Whether blatant or demure
enticingly ardent
glistens feminine allure
perfectly in guardant
Watch how sprightly us men prance
nudged by a woman’s charm
a lovely lingering glance
rarely fails to disarm
When women stare men shall wither
once locked on women don’t dither
As nostalgia torments
in downpour mistfully
then anemoia augments
in dankness wistfully
Yearnings seize us listfully
churning in eerie whistle
Longings languish fistfully
pounce in zinging sizzle
But why to murky feelings abide
when today awaits saddled to ride?
Trend chasing & smart phone prattle
sound to me like empty rattle
It keeps fading my persistence
feeling drained & depleted
Asking haven’t I gone the distance
or am I just conceited?
May I just be left alone?
Chances of change long blown
feeble, soggy my backbone
Hope, once stout, long since flown
In what small time may still be left
please let me not crumble bereft!
Since been blessed to know stillness
are we not now sensing squarely
as agonizing ‘shrillness’
even when dough rises barely?
Clasped in stillness each moment
entirely abounds
ethereal bestowment
eternally astounds
Though clear-cut answers may prove chimeric
resting in stillness is found mesmeric
Voluble words shall lack poise
leave little trace, fade as noise
Words may strain as if in shrunk costumes
when trying leap high in ballet
While aggrieved faces express volumes
of what purloined words can’t convey
Words may sparkle while their essence
get lost midair in senescence
Since morning’s crisp elation
we walk, head down, in daze
Tangled up in frustration
lost in Life’s dead end maze
Yet another day wasted
in mean meanderings
too lightly smelled & tasted
on wobbly wanderings
Are we too mired in anguish
to grasp our heart’s warm language?
+)
-mean = here: small-minded; ignoble
In space planets callously align
silently encircle, rotate
Some hearts may beat warmly and benign
while others coldly desolate
While Universe’s dark frozen space
stolidly shows no emotion
compassion may help us humans face
our continuing commotion
It may not lead us anywhere
but provide solace while we’re here