poetry and vignettes

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a career path

Posted by jan oskar hansen on March 23, 2017 at 3:45 AM Comments comments (0)

A career path


The fireplace is full of ash and cold spring is here

walls full of soot time to either get someone to clean

or paint the room.

A cleaner came she refused to clean the wall, a painter

wanted to paint the whole house since that was not

needed, he left in a huff, something about time wasting.

I called my friend from Krakow he has got a steady job,

but is willing to earn some extra the money he saving up

to send his daughter to university, the locals do not see

beyond lunch.

The slow thinking painter came back offered to do the job

painting after five, too late the man from Poland was

coming he left in the darkest of moods.

As for the cleaner, she is selling herself at 30 euros my wife

has got that news from the hairdresser; when thinking of it,

an easier job than cleaning soothed walls even if she has

to unplug rusty pipes.


the assistant

Posted by jan oskar hansen on March 22, 2017 at 5:55 AM Comments comments (0)

The assistant

At the doctor`s surgery, he had a young girl

training to be a diabetist; she had Chalcedony eyes

that shone brightly as onyx, her skin alabaster

without any blemish, a shy smile played upon her lips

a Mona Lisa unpainted.

I was a witness to perfection a beauty that can`t last

time will wear her down she will get a line between

her pert nose wrinkles around her eyes, of sadness

or laughter one hopes for the latter

Will the world fall into a devastating war and her

a victim of either hunger or radiation.

This didn`t mirror on her face only her glorious youth

and I was lucky to be an observer to the twinkling when

time stood still long enough for me to admire an ideal.



Posted by jan oskar hansen on March 21, 2017 at 5:40 AM Comments comments (0)



I dislike wasting my time shopping for shoes

the man who wrote wasteland a famous poem

is known for this; he did like boots too for walking

He did indeed and many other things too

I, when I had a bike, cycled through wasteland

a domestic landscape growing beautifully wild

I don`t see it know there is a distance between

me and the dream I had, the touch the aroma of

nature is also a memory of horse manure in

a field verdant as the sea around Greenland.

I need a wasteland a place where I can lose myself

without it, life is an endless trivial repetition.

Tomorrow I will go buy a pair of walking boots.


fatal attraction

Posted by jan oskar hansen on March 21, 2017 at 4:45 AM Comments comments (0)

Fatal attraction


The is the sweetest, people friendly poem ever written

it is about moonlight, stars so clear so near you can reach

up touch one of them and make a wish about love, but be

stars can be icicles so cold your finger might fall off.

This a poem about a woman in white floating on a transparent

lake, and it is not Vivian Leigh who is visiting us once again

casting her spell over Sir Olivier should you be a film fan?

No, this is a bigger love story that encompasses all humanity,

but buggers me if I know what it is that no storm can stop

nor flood, this, the fatal attraction of men and women in disharmony.



the bug

Posted by jan oskar hansen on March 20, 2017 at 6:30 AM Comments comments (0)

The Bug

Is Love a compulsion, the sudden idea that this person,

no others, will meet all your need and make you happy.

It is a moment, falling in love only happens once when

you are among the blessed and anointed by the gods.

For some, the illusion lasts a lifetime for others it falls

at the first hurdle of familial tediousness.

Luckily love is transferable you meet someone else who

will make you happy but it will not be the same as first

time, no matter how many times you try to love, is a gift

only given once, the rest is a repetition




China and USA

Posted by jan oskar hansen on March 19, 2017 at 6:00 AM Comments comments (0)

China & USA

In the shadow of banal news,

Russia and spying on elections,

lurks a threat that can lead to

nuclear war and the long night

drops by drips our mine is being

prepared for a war and hatred

this because two giants are on

collision course as the plates of

the earth are shifting, a political

disaster for the sake of power.

We who do not want a new war

are drawn into fake propaganda

learning to dehumanise a people

a war without winners bar those

hiding in caves underground with

their gold and worthless money



a bee and a cardiologist

Posted by jan oskar hansen on March 18, 2017 at 5:45 AM Comments comments (0)

A bee and a cardiologist


I have patched it up with my cardiologist

I sent her one of my books and when I saw her apologised

For my behaviour, and with my new eye

I could see her clearly, but didn`t say so,

I like to burrow my head in her wonderful hair.

Sleep with her in a bed of feather till my heart is cured

Told my wife I was in love with my doctor,

She called me an idiot and said fetch the car while she

Waited In the foyer as it was raining.


I wonder why I`m so angry at time it is like having a bee

Inside my head sting me to be unpleasant and shout

At people, no point seeing a psychologist when

An apiculturist might be cheaper to help me getting rid of

The bee; if so, no more honey on my tongue


animation senryu

Posted by jan oskar hansen on March 17, 2017 at 3:40 AM Comments comments (0)

Animation Senryu

I adore cartoons

Nothing is impossible

Flying is easy



I admire cartoons

I can be whatever I want

An angle or an imp



I worship cartoons

And saxophone playing elephants

Serpents are charming



I venerate cartoons

They show insanity of man

And lightness of life


a friend of a mouse

Posted by jan oskar hansen on March 16, 2017 at 8:40 AM Comments comments (0)

A Friend of the Mouse


Outside on the bottom wall of an old house

I saw a tiny mouse, picked it up it didn`t offer resistance

I looked the small life with wonder

It had lungs, eyes, a beating heart just like me, and a brain too

But of course its world view was

From a perspective of the place it occupied the election of

Trump not its concern and the feeding frenzy of the mass media,

The hysteria and wrong conclusions not to forget the hatred

Of those who thought they deserved to win.

I put the mouse down, it disappeared into a hole, and it will

Perhaps say to its friend:” God held me in his hands but let

Me, go in peace I feel blessed.”



the alternative

Posted by jan oskar hansen on March 14, 2017 at 6:35 PM Comments comments (0)

The Alternative


We lived on the third floor the loo was in the basement

I saw my aunt peeing in the sink while mother was out

It took days to figure out who she did it, I asked my sister

She wanted to know why so I told her, but females speak

Told my mother….trouble.

I often peed in the kitchen sink at night, what else could I do?

Ghosts on steps and landing fat rats having a bath in the bowl

I never told my mother if she came into the kitchen I pretended

brushing my teeth, I also masturbated into it but that was only

when I was sure to be alone.

My mother was strict with the hygienic routine we had a big towel

And since there were four of us we had a corner each.