Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
Others’ proclivity
for shameless self-pride
and dull naivety
keep get things cockeyed
So you, know-it-all minion,
won’t let any verified fact
influence your opinion
or allow fairness to detract
Can’t undertake introspection
when howling strong in projection
+)
projection = (psychiatry) a defense mechanism by which your own traits and emotions are attributed to someone else
Dragoons galloped in the Light Brigade
led by incompetence, stupidity
Now another mind-boggling ‘crusade’
this one in commercial avidity:
Likewise is ‘ours not to wonder why’
when charging in reckless cupidity
ours is just to swipe the card to buy
‘Alive’ while wilting in flaccidity
A lack of reflection on blind obedience
may serve to hide in cowardly expedience
+)
From poem ‘The Charge of the Light Brigade’ by Alfred Tennyson about the 1853 Battle of Balaclava during the Crimean War. The British light cavalry charged, due to its leader’s stupidity & incompetence, on a frontal attack right into the lowered muzzles of Russian artillery. Hence “Ours is not to wonder why. Ours is just to do or die.”
As humans we stagger
in endless desert
keeping up the swagger
digging for paydirt
While our lives set to go awry
why letting cowardice disgrace us?
Don’t despair & lie down & die
just one sand dune til the oasis!
Life’s purpose may be unknowable
at least to humans nebulous
but if in brief glimpses showable
ought that not get us emulous?
What if albeit just for this day
we’d grasp & walk Universe’s way?!
From their luxurious dreamboats
‘calm!’ commands they’re unheeding
elites scramble for the lifeboats
trampling us while stampeding
The elites perform by stealth
elsewhere they’ll disembark
with their self-entitled wealth
as per ‘me first’ hallmark
Those cold-hearted ‘point one percent’ flee first
for solidarity they have no thirst
Fruitless try mess with life’s mystery
humans like trees must shed their ‘leaves’
thus we’re are already history
For now rarely freed from life’s peeves
Although fruitful trying live with compassion
which gives Life meaning, be it out of fashion
On early mornings hares small brownish
and turn-on-dime squirrels forage
seen bolting out from bushes clownish
seeking replenish their storage
While with each pedal stroke
I’ve been spared from: Silliness
blared presumption of ‘woke’
as well PC frilliness
One passing rider even got so elated
that she ventured a ‘Good Morning!’: How outdated!
Planet now gasps polluted
choked by foul breathing fossil fuel
Cannot be restituted
so who are we trying to fool?
If unshackling from what we’re doing
still leaves Earth drained, parched & heated
there cannot be any undoing
how our children have been cheated!
Even if we’d no longer deplete
and agreed upon zero growth
can we put an end to our conceit
& break away from under sloth?
Maybe try out frugality
which does have a winsome knack
instead of the banality
letting shopping have our back?
Better live forgoing
than perish elbowing
Must not spout in staccato
if we truly converse
but to flow like calypso
never try to coerce
Has ‘dialog’ by now gotten so corrupted
that we just compete to speak uninterrupted?
How come that I never tire
pedaling up such steepish hills?
Cause I get to blow off ire
while experiencing these thrills:
A calm mind blessed autonomous
Spared just tagging along sleepishly
on a life’s path synonymous
with over-consuming sheepishly
As well, be it fleetingly, spared the noises
of exigent contrived marketing voices
Sloth congeals the erstwhile heart tender
when mired in petty transactions
misses out on Life’s wondrous splendor
dissipates in dumb distractions
So dare go for that fling
pull hard the bow’s string
decline that gadget thing
avoid the Right Wing
Don’t thoughtlessly conform
or recklessly barnstorm!