poetry and vignettes
|Posted by jan oskar hansen on August 11, 2018 at 2:50 AM||comments (0)|
The Grave Stone
Many years ago I went to the cemetery to find
my brother`s grave, but he had not been dead long
and had no stone. I was sent a picture, his stone is big
full name and in loving memory, the whole clan must have
chipped in it looked costly.
I felt slightly envious I can get a big stone too if I pay
for it now, the blue marble will be lovely.
I`m hesitant to invest in my stone, just in case I live
Longer than expected. You never know with people like me
I have all illnesses you can think of, but I keep waking up
In the morning, eat breakfast and take my medicine
and as usual, I`m grumpy, complaining I don`t laugh much
but I`m here to everyone’s chagrin.
|Posted by jan oskar hansen on August 10, 2018 at 3:20 AM||comments (0)|
My foolish heart its colour is blue
and my thoughts are rainbows which I ride
on to a mystical past and it is pastel hued.
Insecurities are blinking yellow.
The spectral takes me to the moon places
I will not go near.
It presses on to go deeper to the swam I’m
a bottom feeder eat trout in the raw
for its colour, I crave the light and lust for
The rainbow that stranded me in silver light
on a planet that has no history,
I was my face in the part of me that is unsullied
soon it will be morning.
|Posted by jan oskar hansen on August 9, 2018 at 3:00 AM||comments (0)|
where lies are common to be polite and opinions
are only accepted if it is the realm of what is
viewed as the norm and must not be overstepped.
I believe in the free expression but am sceptical of the free will as it will only bring chaos such as abortion as
on the whim of the day. You can say I`m an authoritarian ascertain order has to follow the law of nature,
which many consider as an infringement of rights.
Europe has a shrinking population thanks
to the idea that the morality of the unwritten law
that can be overlooked without any consequence
of the future generation.
Abortion is capitalist thinking eat your cake today
and never mind what happens when we have gone.
|Posted by jan oskar hansen on August 8, 2018 at 3:25 AM||comments (0)|
The bus driver and a rowing boat
I remember a song “A slow boat to China”
There was a man a bus driver who took his wife on holiday to Spain
where his wife ran away with a shepherd
The bus driver went home alone but had the house which exploded
(a gas leak) when he sat on the loo; he was unharmed but somewhat
embarrassed. When the insurance money, came he bought a rowing boat
which had a mast and he could set sail when the wind was right.
He landed in Falmouth before the winter storms.
When spring came he rowed and sailed to the island of Neves where
he met John Cleeve, who wrote a funny article about the brave man
and suddenly the bus driver was famous.
The rich people in Neve gave him money which put in a bank
(there are so many banks) when he went to the bank to draw
out money for an ice-cream, he found he was a millionaire.
High finance is a mystery and something had gone wrong
not for him to ask questions, but he did transfer the money
to a Swiss bank and took the first plane back to Europe.
The bus driver is now a prosperous cattle farmer in Andalusia.
|Posted by jan oskar hansen on August 8, 2018 at 3:10 AM||comments (0)|
Once upon a time
I was, it seems like 100 years ago,
on an old fashion cargo ship, the carried all sorts
rhum, potatoes, flour, machine parts, plastic flowers,
and tinned fruit, meat, and hats for the wife of the in Honduras.
For some reason, there was a door in my store room
it led into a cargo hold I filled the larder till it looked
like a corner shop. My task was to keep the cost of living down,
and the captain got a telegram from the company complimenting
me on keeping the cost down.
When the ship birthed in some obscure port, the unloading
took a long time and there was time to go ashore
have a bit of fun and a good steak with wine at a restaurant.
I was twenty-five and had a hell of a time, but nothing
lasts forever, the ship was sold to a Greek shipping company
and we all had to go home.
|Posted by jan oskar hansen on August 7, 2018 at 3:15 AM||comments (0)|
One flag one country
in the beginning there was hope it was agreed upon
That a turkey was a big chicken and it wouldn’t offend anyone
as the two fowls had no say and didn’t they had a name.
Around the conference table, there was a spontaneous applause
So little had gone right for them the chairman suggested
In the spur of the moment to find a common name for
Palestinians and Jews referring to the group Lapwejs, there
Was a long silence, but the idea was sound only the name
Lapwejs didn’t have a melodious tone; a comity was formed to
Study the idea if they succeed the people of that part
Of the world would end discrimination s everyone was equal
Of course they had to come up with a new flag on that
Look like Greek copy, but had several warm friendly colours.
No one would be call anti-Lapwejs or something similar.
|Posted by jan oskar hansen on August 6, 2018 at 2:20 AM||comments (0)|
The elite poets
I have been watching a program about poems and the creator of poetry,
what is typical of younger poets they are an upper middle class, university educated and know everything about the craft.
At the end of studies, they feel they have to write a book of poems hungry as they are for literary fame,
having read the old master think they have to be dramatic and write about experiences they have not had yet,
nevertheless, they get favourable mentions in the Guardian and the rest is hype and bullshit.
|Posted by jan oskar hansen on August 5, 2018 at 2:35 AM||comments (0)|
They told you a lie
It is said money is not important but love is Balderdash! when you are old you need money as never before,
your house is falling down and you can`t do anything about it because you are too poor to get a builder.
Sitting on a settee hand in hand watching dripping, dank walls while watching a white & black TV fluming in a dank corner,
and you will regret money spent on frivolities when young
And lacking the talent needed to make money when you could and never mind about
the memory of women you loved most of them got on married rich, powerful men who died and left them with money
enough to paint the house and fix those pesky water leaks
|Posted by jan oskar hansen on August 4, 2018 at 1:50 AM||comments (6)|
A child`s sea
The green sea of hope is deep
has seaweed at the bottom where
baby fish play hide and seek.
The sharks are like fluffy dogs have endless
Love for us; friendlier still is the whale
you can ride on its back
It will even give you a shower
should you feel cold
The green is an optical illusion
but it represents the hope that is no longer
present on dry land.
|Posted by jan oskar hansen on August 3, 2018 at 3:00 AM||comments (0)|
The ship sank two survivors on a raft
the Japanese and me.
On the first two days, sharks circled the raft
but they lost interest and disappeared
The Asian man shook my hand and said goodbye
jumped overboard and swam to
the land of the rising sun.
I was rescued by a fishing vessel the next day
thinking the Japanese had drowned didn`t
think more about him, till I met him in Tokyo
where he made a living as a swimming instructor.