Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
Do our character flaws
whatever the cause
detract like tearing jaws
or mere scratching paws?
Flaws shall keep us estranged
make us seem deranged
and while feeling shortchanged
still persist unchanged
Human Nature unruly
which we ought but abhor
it keeps us ensnared cruelly
Just doesn’t work to ignore
Keeps persisting immutably
while doing so inscrutably
In sweet voices lilted
while vocabulary wilts
communing gets jilted
very language itself tilts
Why is it presumed painful
in case word-flow slows to standstill
to ‘conversation’ baneful
when cliches pile on as ‘word fill’?
Mutter not in soliloquy!
Select words which dance ballet
most willingly and willowy!
Shun words when served as buffet:
Insist instead to see the full menu
or you shall be cast as the ingenue
A person’s unique essence
in human interaction
business views as excrescence
treated as infraction
But scripting won’t make us sincere
(sincerity needs no script)
puts up but a flimsy veneer
in obsequious prescript
Leaving our hapless corporate cog
to plod on in soulless workplace bog
Piercing, plaintive
shrieks of lone seagulls
faint, complaintive
such eerie earfuls
Beneath graphite clouds
on fierce waves metal grey
we’re tightening shrouds
while drenched in lashing spray
Rolling, pitching pinned
on old ship rusty
drifting sideways, downwind
in gale bursts gusty
With hollow hope, we wail
hearts pounding, bones chill
frantically we bail
while bilges still fill
Thus we’re crossing our own Atlantic
getting worn out in pumping frantic
Fall’s last leaf quivers
in duty most steadfast
in chilled winds shivers
determined to outlast
The last leaf on the branch
to past Summer hanging true
A rousing rear guard stance
or just blind loyalty’s glue?
When loses its gallant grip
last one to abandon ship!
With riches ill gotten
they now claim entitled hots
(ethics best forgotten)
for more mansions, art & yachts
While the poor ‘ill begotten’
have most essential hots
for meals less thin & rotten
and to sleep on clean cots
On each poor the rich make but a penny
but it adds up because they’re so many
A father’s advice to his son of marrying age
Whether a ‘lounging’ heiress
find one with spiritual depth
or an ‘on feet’ hairdresser
Insist on sweet soul, mind of breadth
(Not, if newly, a divorcee
or a just released parolee)
One shapely with good looks:
A compelling muse
one who adeptly cooks
doesn’t watch tv news
A woman hard for you to match
and one not too easy to catch
We’re told that granddaughter Ellie, on a NYC field trip, craved tasting a ‘real’ bagel. While waiting in line (snaking half-around-the-block) to Katz’s Deli she ‘elliequently’ burst out: “Is this place any good?”
“Did she sweetly get nervous
fearing that the long wait
was just due to slow service
not bagels being great?”
The other year Ellie visited the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, and is said to have made this ‘ellitist’ remark:
“Well, it’s wholly holy
but of modest scale
in height rising lowly
but go ahead: wail!
So that’s all:
an old wall?”
On the same NYC trip as when Ellie snaked around Katz’s she also visited Wall Street, and perhaps congruently she reflected:
“Be it where they scam & cheat
where displaying grim gall:
Just another city street
lacking parking. That’s all!”
She’s the Katz’s meow!
O Bella, ciao!
Splendidly gallop our horses
below glimmer of sabers
in bravely fought lost good causes
thus found stillborn our labors
While briefly providing
gushing feelgood rush
way too soon subsiding
that compelling crush
Thusly often runs the course
of many a ‘noble’ cause
Only found out yesteryear
when soaked by waves of fears
when it became crystal clear
that I’ve been old for years
Had already lost my stride
long before realized
had turned oversized my pride
which by then ossified
Been trying hard to hide
that I then replied
with “I take it in stride!”
Well, back then I lied