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poetry and vignettes

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truck driver

Posted by jan oskar hansen on June 19, 2018 at 3:20 AM Comments comments (0)

Truck driver

I heard crackling under the floorboard

could it be my cottage is falling into a deep

the underground lake where fishes are blind

since they never see daylight.

A lake that has pure crystal water and is free

of sharks and crocodiles.

You are right I have been watching a program

about truck drivers in Alaska who risk their lives driving over a frozen winter lake.

Real heroes who win no medals driving supply

to obscure places dicing with death every day,

their destination is a little pay packet to keep

their families fed.

The crackling has stopped I have to tread lightly

and not eat a full English breakfast.

 

when the dance stops

Posted by jan oskar hansen on June 18, 2018 at 4:55 AM Comments comments (0)

When the Dance stops

 

So now the party in Singapore is over

pacts are signed, and the show of lies is over in the meantime,

I have been looking at pretty flowers FB, which inspired me

to go for a walk, the blooms on the terrace are

past their glory, they are pale shadows waiting for a new spring,

only my cacti are flowering it has nevertheless with by my

ignorance and little water thrived and have bell-like red flowers.

The sheep on the field eat the pretty flowers first

before eating grass, I think they are colour blind

or think beauty must be consumed before it pales.

Meanwhile, the two dancers in Singapore smiled better

then a crocodile would and we cynics wait for the next step.

 

thoughts on Saturday

Posted by jan oskar hansen on June 17, 2018 at 2:35 AM Comments comments (0)

Thoughts on Saturday

 

I saw the Queen of England on TV it was her birthday and people

were out waving flags. I dislike monarchy in any form

but the Queen looked splendid in a blue sky dress

and there were proud men in fantasy uniforms

riding on beautiful horses; no one does

pageant better than the English.

But my heart was not in it, I still lament

the death of Bourdain it was like losing a brother

like me, he was a chef that broke out of the kitchen

and ventured the world.

I have written a poem about my brother`s struggle

with depression but hesitate to publish it

as it might offend his children. Of course, I could

have avoided the absolute truth, but then I would have

done him a disservice. I`m still in Algarve, the removal van broke down

it will take a few days to repair it not that I mind moving house

at my age is difficult.

O well, I have to relax and take it as it comes.

 

 

depression 2

Posted by jan oskar hansen on June 16, 2018 at 5:05 AM Comments comments (0)

Depression 2

I was often jealous of my brother he had what I lacked

which was charm and people were drawn to him

he was intelligently knowledgeable without demonstrating

his aptitude and when someone said a stupid thing he smiled

And refrain from stinging anyone with sarcasm.

Where he worked and when the management had a problem

with the workforce, they came to him for advice.

But he had a dark side he could be absent, silent and sat

drinking for the day, at such a time no one came near him.

Then suddenly he snapped out of it and was his old self.

Illness struck him down he died 38 years old.

I was hot-tempered and argumentative, but he could

calm me with a few jokes and just by being there for me.

I know now that he was suffering from a severe depression

Which no one knew about, he likes a drink they said and left it at that?

But no day goes by when not thinking of him he was glad at heart

On my lack of tolerance but he was always there for me.

 

 

 

gold rush

Posted by jan oskar hansen on June 16, 2018 at 4:55 AM Comments comments (1)

Gold Rush

 

Today I have been watching burly men

with heavy machinery despoiling the Alaska

in a hunt for gold, and when they have gone they will leave

the heavy footprints of man behind; a mutilated landscape!

The mining companies are doing the same in Africa

for their relentless hunt for riches, but all we see is boardrooms

and nice suits legally plundering the land.

Where I live no one is interested in the olive and carob trees

the soil is meagre suitable for beans.

So, for now, we can dwell in peace.

 

 

 

a friendly place

Posted by jan oskar hansen on June 15, 2018 at 6:50 AM Comments comments (0)

A friendly place

There are no catfish in our little lake

but it has giant frogs, and some of them die if they are late

and the sun warms just standing on stone unable to move

Fodder for the crows. There are no dangerous animals

except for boars with a litter and snakes slither away

there were rumours some years ago about a panther-like

like being and farmers cocked their guns

I went to have a look it was a cat that was glad to see me

took it home opened a tin of tuna it purred happily.

It was an independent cat sometimes it disappeared for weeks

then came home telling me nothing, after sleeping in the cupboard

all day it went out and never came back, perhaps it had met a fox

and I relived the struggle must have had before losing.

I had a dog once she lived to be sixteen years and I never trained

her to give paw and chase balls and she told me when it was

time to go for a walk, I don`t walk much now I have no one looking

out for me, my friends called her my daughter.

I have been offered a dog but refuse I think what will happen

to it should I die?

 

when words stop

Posted by jan oskar hansen on June 14, 2018 at 5:50 PM Comments comments (0)

When words stop

Words, words sunken Japanese warships

in the bay of Palau where yellow jellyfish do not sting

and the US military plans to make a base on the moon

and bomb the world to smithereens

I`m watching too much TV and fed useless information

I don`t need. Trying to make sense of this;

war is the loser nature is peace.

Until the war that is cyclical destroy everything this

is needed to win Concord.

In the meantime, economic wars are manufacturing useless

inventions and underpaid garment workers

cheap food and obese people. This lasts until a new hot

battle begins and those who want peace are traitors because

they know there are no winners it is an illusion we have not

been able to understand, like religion and Santa Claus.

When the human voice disappears

when wolves no longer howl in the valley, then battered

Nature will slowly take over, and peace will reign.

 

unwanted thoughts at midnight

Posted by jan oskar hansen on June 14, 2018 at 4:50 AM Comments comments (0)

The Vanished Aircraft

The plane that disappeared some years ago

with 290 passengers didn`t fall into the sea

but landed at the back of the moon, where

The landscape was surprisingly lush if pale as

there are no red roses on the planet.

There was life on the planet, different in

shape and form and easy to tame and taste

like chicken, and disappeared as the Kiwi bird,

or almost as it was the plane`s passengers

the only source of meat.

But there are plenty of edible fruits and vegetables

with no name yet; not to forget

a new religion that worships the earth and

Dali Lama since everyone knew about him others

as presidents remembered are archangels.

There was peace until politics entered and split

people into several camps, for now, they

have no weaponry, so fighting is like shadow

boxing in the pale blue light.

 

the occupiers

Posted by jan oskar hansen on June 13, 2018 at 4:50 AM Comments comments (0)

The Occupier

 

A wrong type of rabbits have invaded

the woods they are aggressive, intelligent

but lack empathy for those not as them.

The rabbits that lived before were smaller

the blue of colour and happy in their modest burrows

thrown out thrown out by the grey ones that

took their holes or made them inhabitable.

The original rabbits live in the corner of the woods

a place too near the road and are often run over

by cars and tractors.

The intruder rabbits originally came from Europe

but there was an attempt to exterminate them

so they moved south and had become a curse

hateful, murderous and intolerant.

The smaller animals in the forest recent this

but they have the boars on their side so little

can be done, but being psychopathic by nature

they eventually destroy themselves.

 

summertime

Posted by jan oskar hansen on June 12, 2018 at 5:40 AM Comments comments (0)

Summertime

 

When I was young, and it was summer

we went to the beach with a bulky gramophone

a stack of vinyl records and a bag of beer.

We drank and sang the modern tunes of the day

of the type, the elderly scoffed at and we

had to keep an eye on the police as it was

forbidden to drink beer at the coastline

(In Norway back then most things was banned)

In the night when the grown-up had left

we made love, and it was not needed to force

the girls they too came for sex and to choose

the man they wanted to marry and did.

I was a seaman then and when I came back

my most of the gang was married there were

only two left we didn`t bother with the music

but brought three bags of beer and talking about

how lucky we had been avoiding the marriage

trap, but knew in our hearts we were losers.

 


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