Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
“More ribs cooking on U.S. grills as meat supply increases” 5/28/18 news in our hometown paper. Wow, what a feat!
Quite the welcome feat
Americans love ribs:
More supply of meat
smoking hot, we’ve got dibs!
Short lived cattle anxiously bleat
Soon resting in their burial place
which for them, our supply of meat,
is our insatiable stomach space
Cattle’s plight? Why does that matter?
Just pile more grilled on our platter!
Flowers tiny
Cushy carpets of tiny flowers are growing in our Spring backyard:
In simplicity arrayed
egalitarian
white & green colors cascade
clarions’s clarity
Swaying in pendulum play
with Springtime’s chilly breeze
Dancing precision ballet
harmonious their ease
Each flower a mere sliver
petals in slightest shiver
edited 09/13/22 2100
As loosen my Life’s moorings
I watch flowers unceasingly
awake in early mornings
my awe deepens increasingly
Long since I sailed close to capsize
on choppy seas of rancor
Now til blurry shores of demise
not long til weighing anchor
Until comes such time, veiled in mystery
striving to live now, not in history
Ethereal Bluebells
aren’t on human time
When wondrous Springtime knells
soundlessly they chime
Most faint winds stir them at will
unruffled, uncaptured
unstintingly poised they thrill
We’re embraced, enraptured
Springtime’s soul
breathes through Bluebells
takes no toll
all anguish quells
Bluebells’ ineffable presence
flows unhurried through senescence
nature herself is cruel:
Watch that sweet bunny
happy, hopping around
It’s warm and sunny
Growl! By predator ground!
While a human who is carnivore
may have a good deal to answer for
+)
ground = here: between the teeth of a predator
Narrow roads edge dusty deep ravines
up & down, contorting, twisting
slicing faded cliffs more brown than green
Curve following curve, persisting
With tenuous roadway traction
cars squeezing mere feet apart
no place to indulge distraction
where driving a martial art
Just guessing at what’s up ahead
heedless of ravine-plunging dread
Cresting cliffs, mindless of ravines
in youth we indulged aspiration
silly fantasies, hopes & dreams
Then woke up from exhilaration
On whatever life’s journey bestowed
winding roads shall turn less thrilling
Time, strength, guts & prospects all erode
aging’s rain drizzles bone chilling
Just beyond the very next bend
awaits too soon our journey’s end
Trying to dance to an aria
or speed skating on ice Spring thin
or run red lights under Sharia:
Risky, neither a likely win!
Yet a rare chance
to live fast
in heady prance
that won’t last
Still we’ll engage in hell raising
not like docile sheep just grazing
Seas roaring, winds howling
Shredded clouds racing
under dark skies scowling
Wild whitecaps chasing
Above clean blown ocean
fowl soaringly strewn
sail in spray splashed motion
below moody moon
Crashing on to stolid rocks
waves implode, plundering
Washing over creaking docks
winds in gusts thundering
Watching in deep emotion
stirred by my life far flung
on wild waves of commotion
by raging regrets stung
My own past as well
been too windswept
then calmed in slow swell
relieved I wept
+)
-swell = the undulating movement of the surface of the open sea; particularly non-breaking waves following a storm
Picked flowers in a vase
through phototropism
still reach for light with grace
in short struggle, schism
A servitude bouquet
its buoyancy endeavored
for just another day
after their roots got severed
Each stalk struggling upright
trying its shoulders pulled back
corolla may look tight
but soon too in grieving slack
Gently drops each petal
knowing not of haste
bounces softly, settles
demise calmly faced
In a few days all die
serene in their goodbye