Poetry Blog by jan oskar hansen
My lie is bigger than yours.
So it is Sunday early afternoon light rain
and I`m not a weather forecaster, and no one pays me
for this observation, perhaps the seagulls do
they are flying low today.
The journalist who bravely fought 15 men, was put him
in a rocket that exploded when high enough, I found
a finger that looked Arabic, but the dog snatched
out of my hands...
Thursday 15th November 2018 8:18 am
A man bought an old fishing vessel
it had a steering house, but the door was rotten
he got a new door a painted it sea green.
Sometimes he forgot to close the door and a sea lime wave
swept him on to the deck, when tried to find the handle
a flounder hang on it he slipped hit his head on the ladder
on the step leading into the steering room.
He painted th...
Wednesday 14th November 2018 8:31 am
A character trait
She was divorced with one child a daughter
had met a man she liked going out for the first meal
the daughter was playing it up her mother tried
to calm her to no avail.
Her new friend lost his temper and shouted, whatever
his profession he was no a psychologist.
Deadly silence at the table, the man tried to say something nice,
but it was too late. The...
Tuesday 13th November 2018 8:51 am
Rolf, the talking machine
There are moments in life when you meet someone
you take an instant dislike to who endlessly talk about
things they don`t know about if you tell them something
they don`t hear what you say, just waiting for their
a chance to rambles on.
He has the sort of face exuding stupidity and is inviting
you to punch him flat and jump on him.
You know ...
Monday 12th November 2018 9:42 am
I was sent a book used when I went to catering
college 60 years ago, I had signed it on a page inside.
What was remarkable was my handwriting
which was a little shaky and insecure like a person
who yet to come to grips with life and tries to
make himself invisible.
The book, about hygiene on ships and how much water
a person needed every day; the text was d...
Sunday 11th November 2018 8:30 am
“Go silent go Deep” a title of a film he saw of Curd Jürgen
an actor who got manly roles and looked good in Nazi uniform,
but somehow was a hero who did the right things.
Alone in the house, he tries to go silent and deep into his mind
pieces of shrapnel of a bombed out U-boat, dead sailors
floating about until a creature takes pity and eats them.
Saturday 10th November 2018 6:04 pm
The new normal in the twentieth century is war
it has continued without a break a perpetual machine
of mass killing, someone somewhere must see
war as a business in which every country has a bloody hand.
Politicians, the handmaiden for manufacturers
of weaponry claim, they only sell the weapon for peaceful
means this as bombs fall in Yemen.
The Afghan war ag...
Saturday 10th November 2018 10:03 am
While I was waiting for the poem, I was going to write
to show up but I can`t find the right words
starting the process, I have amused myself by
writing two smaller things. I look at my nails
they are too long but clean mainly because I do
the washing up after lunch by hand or rather
two hands I have never heard of a one-armed dishwasher.
Thought of the G...
Friday 9th November 2018 9:23 am
An angel sat on the window ledge
Wanted to come in which was understandable
It was a cold night. Walk through the window glass
for heaven’s sake, you are an angel
the angel refused it would ruffle its wings.
He opened the window and let it in and since it
was worried about its looks he took it to be a female.
The angle denied this insisted it was sexless, God...
Thursday 8th November 2018 6:20 am
Reflection after 80
He sat on the balcony enjoying his Nicorette
his 80 years day in October this year had been
a low-cost party, cheap wine and tough meat,
but that was ok he was not blessed having
too much money.
He decided when he was 90 it would be
a blowout affair with champagne and canape
like the rich do when they have birthdays,
He chuckled the idea of livin...
Wednesday 7th November 2018 9:56 am
He was going to write his masterpiece
“The road to London” but the coach from
The airport had a blowout.
When he finally came to London, and it was
Morning and reading the headline
which asked several coaches have suffered
blowouts, could it be the Russians?
Another more sober paper said the accidents
were due to poor maintenance but that is
not a word that ...
Wednesday 7th November 2018 8:01 am
My, my dear Delilah I was drunk and fell on the floor
there I saw your lover hiding under the couch.
My, my dear Delilah I slit his throat with a knife
there was so much blood on the floor you got
a mop and tried to clean it up before the blood
was running down to the next level.
But I run away before there was a knock on
the door I couldn`t take anymore I...
Tuesday 6th November 2018 8:28 am
This is a blue day it is like having a ring
of steel pressing against my head.
Nothing matters there is no outlet and I want to go home,
anywhere, to get away from myself.
I sit on the terrace look at the view it is fucking boring
bloody sea like I shouldn’t have seen it before
after thirty years as a mariner.
This morning I saw athletic people running along...
Monday 5th November 2018 10:41 am
No, I don`t miss my old home the one I rebuilt
from a stable till a house, although its soul never stopped
being a stable a place for those who have no voice.
Thick walls made by stone from the small land windows
animals do not need light.
But walls talk I still hear their murmur and the hoof of
the mule scraping on the floor as it was dreaming of still...
Sunday 4th November 2018 9:50 am
Charles Aznavour and I
Once in Southgate, I bumped into him
I apologised, so did he, and we continued on our way.
Further down the street, I said to myself
you touched a famous man, thought of running after
him telling I knew who he was, but since he knew
this already, he would think I was deluded.
I later saw a picture of him on the door of a restaurant
Where he had a...
Saturday 3rd November 2018 12:06 pm
How unlucky can a man get?
There was a man, an ocean sailor,
in Argentina, he met a woman who he married.
During a storm, she was washed overboard, and
he couldn’t find her. Undaunted he continued
sailing around the world, met another woman
(from Sidney) and married her.
In the strait Moluccas, they were ambushed, the pirates shot
his wife. Well, life goes on and wh...
Friday 2nd November 2018 8:08 am
When women rule
Today at the hospital my walked
on crutches ten meters on the way and the same
Distance back. Her swollen ankles were slim and downright sexy thought of patting
her on her ample bum resisted
she said this act was gross.
How am I to argue we live in the century?
Of women in charge woo the man who did something
that could be construed as an act of invasi...
Thursday 1st November 2018 8:54 am