Poetry Blog by jan oskar hansen

The exile

    No matter how far

    To the other side of the moon

     if you like

    Sadness follows an exile.

    Never at ease

    Thinking of what is forsaken

    Finding it impossible

    To find the way back home.

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 The exile

    No matter how far

    To the other side of the moon

     if you like

    Sadness follows an exile.

    Never at ease

    Thinking of what is forsaken

    Finding it impossible

    To find the way back home.

Read and leave comments (1)

Home from the cinema

We were going home from the movies

It began raining I had an umbrella and shielded

Her from most of the cloudburst, I got wet.

At her home, she said I had to take my suit off

I did but felt silly sitting on her sofa in my undies.

She came back from the bathroom wearing less than me,

We kissed and cuddled and ended up in her bedroom.

...

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Tears at night

 I heard a child crying in the night

Why are you crying son, my father said?

I feel so sad, why are you weeping?

I long for the old days when livening near

The forest where my dog and I walked.

I wish to return.

You are too old now, my father said, think

Of your struggle carry firewood and water

The hills are steep.

I had dreams back then of being ...

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The outdoors

Once, I walked on newly fallen snow

It was sobering,

but then it got cold, and feet froze

enough of sobering.

Thick, woollen socks and boots

I’m not an outdoor man

Traversing the North Pole is not

For me, I’m not a penguin.

 I like to stay by the window when

 it snows look romantic, festive too

thinking of yuletide of yore.

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Haiku

A season is over

Golden leaves softly fall

The breeze is absent.

Haiku

Bushes have the blooms

Still intact covered in dust

The town waits for storm

Haiku

Indoor plants sag too

Sorrowful for no reason

Longing for freedom

Haiku

Umbrellas await

Know their duty are coming

They have the courage

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Suicide

I have lately been contemplating taking my life

The question is, how?

I live on the seventh floor with a veranda

The falling is not bad I shudder by the impact

Also, upsetting people.

A shotgun in my mouth blowing my brain out Is too ghastly,

 Ernest Hemingway did it shoot himself

Blood and gore all over the place.

A 22-calibre pistol should do it, but I dis...

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Looking for serenity

At the corner shop

They have sold out happiness

On sticks

Dreams too

They sell fresh bread

Moreover, plastic toys.

The greengrocer next door

Sell carrots, cabbage and leeks

However, no heart-shaped

Tomatoes.

Further down the road

A shop specialises in exotic cheese

and milk products

However, none of them sells Joy.

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Sleepless

O, sleep, why did you forsake me

I close my eyes will me to sleep

Nothing!

Better get up watch an old movie

A western one and you know who

Are the baddie and the sheriff

John Wayne is holding in his stomach.

The fake fight scene with furniture

That breaks easily.

O, sleep, why did you forsake me.

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By the graveside

The flowers on a heap at the grave,

some given by love others out of duty.

Some with a grudge didn’t show up

as banal revenge of the pain from

 the whip of her sharp tongue.

I found it difficult to comprehend that

my impossible mother was in a coffin

she had no respect of authority, spoke

her mind sometimes unwisely.

I saw he once slapping a poli...

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A notion

It begins with an idea

Something read that becomes a sentence

Written down a chain of words

That takes traction a little story is a result.

Other thoughts enter, make corrections

Suggest another ending

No, let it stand as it is perhaps a comma

Here and there, ok.

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Jacob’s ladder

God had a summer house

In a private cloud, he needed a house painter

Jacob took the jo, and the deity sent

Down a ladder and it was a long climb for Jacob

He was met by God, who wasn’t sure which colour

He should choose, the painter looked around

And suggested light mahogany colour it would

Give God a feeling of adventure in and otherwise

Pleasant env...

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As the wind blows

I knew of a man who could see the wind

As it came in from the sea, a mass of air

Bluer than the sky and he also knew when

it ended getting paler and blowing like

a zephyr inland.

There is always a wind blowing

somewhere on the planet this to circulate

the air we breathe to make it light and clean

and free of pollution and methane gas

of cows in ...

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As the wind blows

I knew of a man who could see the wind

As it came in from the sea, a mass of air

Bluer than the sky and he also knew when

it ended getting paler and blowing like

a zephyr inland.

There is always a wind blowing

somewhere on the planet this to circulate

the air we breathe to make it light and clean

and free of pollution and methane gas

of cows in ...

Read and leave comments (0)

Future

Trying to write about the future

Is almost impossible without the past

Intruding talking about yesteryear.

Perhaps the future is like a thousand

Mirror reflecting itself endlessly.

I know there will be wars it is our burden

The opposite coin of love.

There is no vista opening-up

A panorama of beauty, but there will

Be moments when the glam of war stills,

Whe...

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Reality check

 reality is when a dreamer wakes up

 remember bills has to be paid,

a divorcee in a room without windows

and only know it is raining from

a leaking roof, bare fridge and no heating.

How could it become like this?

Execrable state when dreaming

Life was easy.

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Consensus

Democracy, a hollow word makes me laugh darkly.

Is the USA a democracy? You can vote every 4 years

Among two parties who spring from the same narrow

The base of the elite and is therefore not Democratic,

 but gives the illusion like the democratic republic

Of Kongo, to be one and go to war against those who

Has another opinion, say, freedom from tyranny

And i...

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The collapse

They built an edifice

On a shining hill and

A sandcastle

Here the truth was

Spoken hubristic

One can say

However, they believed in

In the illusion

A man came and stepped

On the castle, it crumbled

Lies and shenanigans

Toppled out for all to see

It was just sand.

The hatred turned to

The truth-teller

He was called a traitor

Rots i...

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