Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
Found too light when in action weighed
too many losing hands played?
Sheltering in verbiage’s shade
nerves shot & memory frayed?
Why do suffer ourselves talking
when from vital subjects strayed
avoiding, defending, balking
by flawed perspectives waylaid?
As well wise not to opine
on someone else’s hemline
For phantom power & glitz
sold himself as a tool
hoping that his obsequence
pleased CEO cruel
A hapless well dressed lackey
who smiles kind of smugly
though presents himself wacky
worshipingly rugly
Couldn’t hew the bottom line agenda
so he tripped up (by lacking gall)
on the corporate hacienda!
But got up, crawled back & didn’t bawl
Awash in quarterly profits bosses drool
still justify sack lackey just before yule
+)
-yule = here: period Dec 24-Jan 06
-‘rugly’ = (made up): as in ‘Go ahead, Madame or Sir, do walk all over me!’
Just hung on the tree
did a green leaf
seemed happy & free
beyond ‘beleaf’
Was ‘leafing it up’
just blowing in the wind
brimming its life’s cup
in sunlight widely grinned
Then from clear sky a tear
fell on its body, wet splash
happiness turned to fear
by a single raindrop brash!
That’s where it went awry
so there goes the ‘treeborhood’
To Heavens it would cry:
there goes my good ‘leaflihood’!
So goes the whining of the leaf-alarmist
in a too lightly triggered, poor me ‘valse triste’
Why must I be bored daily
told sports metaphors frail
celebrity quotes gaily
and commercial quips pale?
How does the majority
sunk in deep nescience
think they’ve the authority
to demand compliance
with their endless tedious prattle
spouting threadbare cliches & tattle?
Our minds gone apolitical
bored with analytical
views blindly hypocritical
of restraint inimical
On entertainment insistent
in narcissistic nation
turned Reality resistant
in misguided elation
Are we not head-over-heels
raiding the cash machine
in gilded automobiles
en route to guillotine?
But in these gadget-gathering times heady
we must surely have lost our heads already?
Walking the bike up hill
did you get too tired?
legs too weak, lacking will?
No, a flat acquired!
Tire went ‘bang!’ at a juncture
deprived of p.s.i.
Instantaneous puncture
spectacularly, why?
When by rusty nail pierced
where ever the hole
airflow won’t be reversed
pointless to cajole
When inner tubes does burst
there is mean wheezing
Air rushes out head first
sound most displeasing
Each molecule on its own
elbowed escapes frantic
All solidarity blown
a deflating antic
My dental hygienist told me that one of her patients did, when getting their teeth cleaned by water pressure, actually exclaim:
“Teeth cleaning like water boarding!”
provides a dental chair glimpse
of sample comment affording
by ignorant ‘First World’ wimps
Sense of compassion unformed?
Oddly non-reflective?
Aren’t they sadly uninformed
so lacking perspective …
but that must be hard to see
when all revolves around ‘ME’?
The morning dawns blurrily
thoughts lazy & shoddy
darting around squirrelly
Creaky his old body
As couldn’t endure Life’s steady gaze
he indulged dreams Elysian
Now stuck shuffling in regret’s haze
eliciting derision:
of his mind’s intransigence
and his limbs’ recalcitrance
Remember the past
was it not quite the blast?
But wait, not so fast
don’t we now stand aghast …
… when having to recall
our silly, witless gall?
Too many a close call
drunken nights lost in thrall
Did youth spent heedlessly
flash by in much haste
and rarely weedlessly
prove an utter waste?
+)
-weedlessly = here: clean & sober
Show us all we can grab
how to get our way
as we prefer to nab
not give or allay!
Thus abet
rather than care
just forget
what’s like to share
Have now learned to manage
(spurred on by own greed)
taking full advantage
of those in dire need
Indulgent we’re beaming
finest wines we swill
lounged amidst stuff gleaming
huge thick steaks we grill
But aboard in yachting delight
cruising in the starlit night
cradled in self-absorbed birthright
oughtn’t our collars feel bit tight?
+)
-collars feel bit tight = here: feeling a strain of anxiety about whether we’re steering a compassionate course on life’s ocean