Blog

poetry and vignettes

view:  full / summary

sleepless in Cascais

Posted by jan oskar hansen on July 15, 2019 at 4:40 AM Comments comments (0)

Sleepless in Cascais

It was a strange night

Couldn’t sleep thoughts and images

Kept churning around and I was

Horrifyingly awake.

This is pointless, got up and drank

Several glasses of water, my brain

Was talking to me and I had no answer.

To distract myself I watched TV, till

Four in the morning slept like a baby

Until noon, the past is a bleak territory.

 

 

summer evening

Posted by jan oskar hansen on July 14, 2019 at 4:05 AM Comments comments (0)

Summer evening

The day is gone

Darkness is moving in

My day

Correcting poem

Writing new ones is over

Time for TV.

I have read the news

Not uplifting

Seeing Trump

The elected dictator

Triumphant boasts.

Why are the Americans

So stupid

Can he not see

He s shyster

Dragging you into

A new war

Marching happily

Into war for his benefit

Thousand of your soldiers

Die painfully

For his honour

 

 

to suddenly be old

Posted by jan oskar hansen on July 13, 2019 at 7:45 AM Comments comments (0)

To suddenly be old

It came so suddenly one day I woke and was old

I thought it was never going to happen.

To be old is ok up to a point, but the body is falling apart

I walk with a cane now, constant pain when walking unaided.

I have lost my sense of humour nothing is funny,

What made me laugh has turned into shrug about the idiocy

Of humans. We see this clearly when a British troops board

An Iranian vessel, after request, by the USA it is laughable

How they want a war that has no reason other

Then revenge when Iranian students took over the American

Embassy in 1976, it is sniggering funny, I am not laughing as

the world faces another calamity, a war that will hit us all.

Brexit is a hoot the British elite at its worst; it lacks dignity

When incompetent politicians fight for power, do anything

To avoid Corburn getting to control and destroy

The elite’s little earners, I shrug we have been here before

And it is not funny.

 

the pilot

Posted by jan oskar hansen on July 12, 2019 at 5:55 AM Comments comments (0)

No pilot

The ships in the bay of Cascais

Are waiting for a pilot to take them to port.

They have been there long

A strike by the dock workers take time

In the meantime, the seamen do a little work

Painting here and there but mostly

Sitting in the sun getting a tan.

The cook is worried he needs supply of food

No more vegetable left except the canned stuff.

He has frozen meat, but not enough of it

Should the strike last.

He sighs and drinks another coffee

 

 

kitchen drama

Posted by jan oskar hansen on July 11, 2019 at 5:10 AM Comments comments (0)

Kitchen drama

 

We were poor

Shared our kitchen with the woman next door

She was in her thirties

I was fifteen.

We met in the kitchen

It started with a kiss

It ended with full sex.

Mother found out

Called our neighbour a wore gave her a slap

Across her face.

To me, she said.

How could you with that woman!

 

green umbrella

Posted by jan oskar hansen on July 10, 2019 at 6:50 AM Comments comments (0)

Green Umbrella

We were out driving it began raining and

the window whiskers didn’t work.

My wife went out of the car walked in front

I could see the umbrella it was green, but

the progress was slow especially up hill and

we had to stop many times.

At home, I dried her hair and washed her tired,

sore feet made her a cup of strong tea till she

was ready to make my evening meal.

Green Umbrella

We were out driving it began raining, and the window whiskers

did not work.

My wife went out of the car walked in front

I could see the umbrella it was green, but the progress was slow,

mainly uphill and we had to stop many times.

At home, I dried her hair and washed her tired,

sore feet made her a cup of strong tea till she

was ready to make my evening meal. 

 

a friend for life

Posted by jan oskar hansen on July 9, 2019 at 3:40 AM Comments comments (0)

not what you think

 

 

 

as the ship was docked or hidden instead in a small bay

if mother had she known refused to see me go on board

. Along it railing a group of scowling men passing the time by spitting into the water.

In the galley, I met the cook who knew the rudimentary of cooking he was cleaning dirt from under his fingernails using a fish knife — a giant of a man few dared to cross him, a friend for life.

With a crew of murderous ruffians and a million cockroaches

I had to live, yet we wore bandana of grey, and they had as I the pallid skin of poverty no soap can wash away,

in a way I felt a kinship with them and I was accepted.

When the ship birthed in Genoa, I noticed some of

the lads smelling of perfume, the cook told me they were

going to meet older men, who gave them dinner,

a little money and shiny objects, it took me a bit before

I too understood. Not to forget the evil twins who went to

Public loo to beat up gays, the cook would not let them come

Near the galley, they boasted of having put a gay man ‘s head

Down a toilet full of shit and they didnt let go before the man

Stopped resisting. But homosexuality raised its ugly head

a bum was patted someone told the captain and the homo

was arrested and thrown into an empty cabin, in the morning

he was not there, and the captain who was judge and jury said he drowned.

 

 

alone in a church

Posted by jan oskar hansen on July 8, 2019 at 5:15 AM Comments comments (0)

Alone in a Church

First time saw Alfred was in New York, 1955. He appeared on a

Clubs ‘stage playing sweet music. I was alone and frightened

lost in a strange world so my father followed me back to the ship a

night of yellow fog and light rain.

For many years, I didn’t see Alfred busy as I was growing up and

yes, not to forget all the beautiful girls how can a father compete

with that?

In was only in later years when penniless and abandoned he came

back, playing sweet music and listened to my story, just nodding his

head and helping me up. I sat in a church it was warm and in front

of me a big note Enough for a good dinner and a bottle of wine, but

Alfred was there too I had to find a moral middle way so I had me

wine and food but went back to the church and put the change in the

collection box. Last time I saw Alfred was at a hospital he came to

say goodbye from now on I had to learn to live without him. I cried

so loudly that a nurse woke me up asked what was wrong, I told,

she lost interest, go back to sleep, she said, so why the fuck did she

wakes me up in the first place. Alfred ‘s face is slowly disappearing,

erased by yellow fog and light rain.

 

alone in a church

Posted by jan oskar hansen on July 8, 2019 at 5:10 AM Comments comments (0)

Alone in a Church

First time saw Alfred was in New York, 1955. He appeared on a

Clubs ‘stage playing sweet music. I was alone and frightened

lost in a strange world so my father followed me back to the ship a

night of yellow fog and light rain.

For many years, I didn’t see Alfred busy as I was growing up and

yes, not to forget all the beautiful girls how can a father compete

with that?

In was only in later years when penniless and abandoned he came

back, playing sweet music and listened to my story, just nodding his

head and helping me up. I sat in a church it was warm and in front

of me a big note Enough for a good dinner and a bottle of wine, but

Alfred was there too I had to find a moral middle way so I had me

wine and food but went back to the church and put the change in the

collection box. Last time I saw Alfred was at a hospital he came to

say goodbye from now on I had to learn to live without him. I cried

so loudly that a nurse woke me up asked what was wrong, I told,

she lost interest, go back to sleep, she said, so why the fuck did she

wakes me up in the first place. Alfred ‘s face is slowly disappearing,

erased by yellow fog and light rain.

 

Egypt Galore

Posted by jan oskar hansen on July 7, 2019 at 3:50 AM Comments comments (0)

Egypt Galore

I was in Alexandra once

It was unpleasant

People stopped me asked

For cigarettes.

They were standing to close

Crowding me.

Asked if I was a Christian

Sniggered.

I found a bar that sold beer

But from every window

They, the rabble

Was watching me

Making unkind comments.

When the crowed thinned out

I left

Some of them asking me about

Swedish women they lusted for

Sex with willing women with short skirts.

I was followed by their foul breath

Until I reached the gate

Of the docks.

I was frisked by the guards

they stole my money and

cigarettes.

 


Rss_feed