Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
‘The Orange Ego Coddler’
in policy incoherent
A vainglorious toddler
The ‘Stable Genius’ despot
ignorant & feckless
How he spouts without respite
a Demagogue reckless!
He untiringly trumps up ‘tantrumps’
amidst golf at casino sanctums
+)
-stable genius = Trump has self-diagnosed as an ‘extremely stable genius’
-tantrump = (license) tantrum by Trump
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?
His looks sallow carotene
that shamelessly lying brawler
a sick psyche philistine
in pursuit of that next dollar
Utterly Orwellian
but that’s not by far all
a shameless chameleon
with heart and hands too small
Still those who got him elected
feel elated not dejected
Asleep pain invades my hip
while cramp runs up a leg
in discomfort’s iron grip
does not avail to beg
In bed for too long a stretch
tossing, turning restless
At dawn getting up to kvetch
of hours which dragged endless!
During day I cower
fearful decrepit
of when tonight turns dour
can’t fake intrepid
Body tossed & thoughts churned
in agony, ache
Pleas for ‘peace of mind’ spurned
right until awake
slipping from darkness clutches
‘darling dawn’ embracing
Hobbling as if on crutches
nasty night replacing
whence day spent in flight
from last night’s bleak blight
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?!”
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?