Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
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
Some time ago Yana, our neighbor, emailed that “in these mean dark times my energy is momentarily diverted into a self-administrated, complete pedicure. For now I’m bettering the world one shiny toenail at a time.”, which inspired this verse:
In moral grime
election slime
among war crime:
She’s right on time!
In these mean dark days
she keeps hope ablaze
cutting through the haze
our Yana allays
Items unfurled
artistic
Rosy toes curled
yogistic
A pedicure
nail by nail.
No sinecure
much travail!
Got wrongs to abolish
with elegant polish
Yana standing tallish
Evil to demolish!
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?
makes us viewed ‘opinionated’
But glossaries too overweening
& leave us intimidated!
Are words merely something we say?
So might as well be snappy
no need for syntax to obey
Let them roam free & happy!
Are words just something we utter
in verbose clutter & din?
Let them frivolously flutter
& cascade freed from chagrin?
Have words gotten just something we say?
Besides who are listening anyway?
If it requires boundless words
then is it worth saying
bar for literary nerds
conceitedly braying?
But when needs to be addressed
then let’s articulate
Let it be tersely expressed
avoid pontificate
Dazzle us not with harsh Kliegs at night
but bathe us in morning’s soft sunlight
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!
In 2016 Hillary Clinton treated voters like neglected dogs, which even so should somehow be expected to happily wave their tails at her. After all one of her slogans mightily presumed: “It’s her turn!’. Some of these long suffering dogs bit her instead.
While low were voter expectations
So what? Been so for generations
Bleak, tawdry that election
discourse stuck inchoate
while she was the selection
of Israel, Kuwait
Worn people like soggy dogs
tails tween legs, buzzed by fleas
on muddy slippery slogs
shook off Hillary’s bees
Campaign’s debates were largely disingenuous
the candidate’s grip on Reality tenuous
Opposite people attract
and if titillation
they may end up tightly packed
Bring on captivation!
While those birds of a feather
flock together tamely
those odd ones gladly tether
pressed together gamely
It shall majorly matter
among life’s klutzy clatter
Aren’t words just something we utter
so no cause to get uptight?
As something we just let flutter
no need for feeling contrite?
Take care to avoid some subjects
while be up on latest trends
Lay off our usual suspects
who talk Tesla but drive Benz
Above all don’t appall them all
by acting the rumpled sleuth
who with hapless self-righteous gall
goes out looking for The Truth!
Beware that if we bring up facts
bystanders shall forthwith make tracks!
+)
-facts = caution: factual evidence, unless disregarded, may stop us from doing what we want
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