Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
Tired of hearing myself talking
in fat ego distention
of balking, hawking & squawking
Bring on an intervention!
Rarely found nibblers eager
taste my wilted phrases salad
culinary most meager
displayed in dry servings pallid
May lack knack but for the odd ditty
commonly more wobbly than witty?
Vadå, ska vi upphöra
att slösa å förstöra?!
Ej längre tid att förspilla
så vi rusar runt bråttom.
Har en planet att försnilla
så ingen tid för andrum!
Barnens framtid då? Ovidkommande!
Väl inte vårt tillkortakommande?!
With valiant perseverance
in one united voice:
“We brook no interference
with Consumer Choice!
We blindly march in lockstep
while anger & planet smolder
We prattle, whine, chase & schlepp
Cassandras get the cold shoulder
How silly we’re beaming
unbeknownst benighted
Down yet another alley
on yet another day
by yet another sally
stirring another fray
Such manner leads us astray
Let’s tread another pathway:
One that lets us live life caring
not taking but in giving
Our predator teeth not baring
Not blaming but forgiving!
+)
giving = also: the quality or state of being resilient
O, humanity’s attraction
albeit just reactive
to ceaseless din of distraction
irresistibly tractive
Discord rarely averted
when our opinions brawl
amidst invective blurted
stretching the endless sprawl
Is rob Paul to pay Peter
merely ‘sound’ greed, no gall
thus no one is a cheater
for just wanting it all?
Merely business as usual
robbing Peter to pay Paul
only bottom line is crucial
so let’s try to rob them all!
Wrapped in impatience itchy shawl
splashing through Life’s icy squalls
letting mundane pursuits enthrall
gliding in fallacious valse
Turmoil churns nocturnally
contorted internally:
Flooded by angst at night
Clock on night table stands still
No way out, left or right!
While under thick blanket chill
After toss & turn til dawn
face the day, get a grip!
Though eyes blurred, facial hue wan
must try to right the ship
Rising in to the day’s noise
we must try to gather poise
Whining, be it with passion,
plain fails to stir compassion
So try step out from yourself
as the Self a mere illusion:
A cruel mischievous elf
how she traps us in delusion!
Dawn finds me writing hushed verse
flows calmly gushingly
Still should the day turns adverse
it reigns unblushingly
and so each day shall end in afterglow
till I breathe in verse again tomorrow
By remorse acquainted
have tried paint over my past
but by past I’m tainted
so the gloss just would not last
My body dinged, dented
mind mushed, fermented
my poor soul tormented
A Life repented
On Life’s ladder I wobble estranged
fear being put in the ground unchanged
Through Neoliberal contortion
said to ‘free us’ from solidarity
we thrash about in self absorption
in loneliest of insularity
But the ‘freed’ claim is specious
far from innocent gaffe
nor is the claim facetious
since on us is the laugh!
If we don’t fight together
that fierce One Percent Bunch
for sure (not about ‘whether’)
shall devour us for lunch!
+)
-One Percent Bunch = the Power Elites (more like ‘point one percent’) who are stealing our economic, social and environmental commons, by the methods of Neoliberalism