A Reminder
A Message
Our old captain was pensioned off, he had been
the master on the same ship for ten years and at
sixty five he didn´t know where to go as his whole
life had been the sea. The first officer was taking
over. He had noticed the old man every morning
went on the bridge, opened a locked drawer and
read something from a folded piece of paper.
The first officer having sewed on an extra ring on
his uniform, now had four, was curious opened
the drawer. On the paper was written: starboard
is right and portside is left.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Love Letter Not Posted
Love Letter Not Posted.
I got a sweet email, yes romantic as well,
something about holding hands
and things that tend to follow a passionate kiss.
She had read my poems and thought I was
a darling! I thought of sending her a love poem
but desisted as my poems tend to be cynical;
beside there is a question of grooming.
Dear heart, thank you for the email, I shall not
answer you, but quietly dream of what could
could have been if I had been seventeen, and
not a grumpy old man who wears a winter coat
for comfort even in June.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Ageing
Ageing
I saw a picture of him in the newspaper the famous writer
at seventy two, and thought: my god, he looks old; yet I´m
older than him. He was going on about his illnesses like they
should be badges of honour. I look like him, but my mirror
says I look not a day over fifty two which is a blessing.
We are all narcissists at heart and stuck with an image of
ourselves that is untrue, but life cannot rob us of our delusion.
A warning though, do not smile to women who have not got
a wrinkle or two and need to dye their hair.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Love in the Afternoon
I wake up in the night our bed is an ocean I feel starkly alone
and reach out to feel your presence. An empty space, I panic
switch on the bedside light and call your name.
You have been to the loo, ok, tell me not to fuzz, lie down and
squeeze my hand. I switch off the bedside light and the night
continues as you gently snore, it is your silence I fear.
Dawn I wake up and count the beams on the bedroom ceiling,
eight it’s always eight. And it worries me if I should live longer
then you and only count seven bedroom beams
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Wedding In Paris
Wedding in Paris
Coming out of the church after the wedding there were
smiles and cameras clicked, from the steps I could look
down into a park, a tramp was going through a bin
looking for something to eat, he found and ate what looked
like a half eaten pizza. With all the clatter going on
I slipped away, had a whisky in a bar across the road,
saw the tramp coming out of the park, my idea was to give
him some money for food, but I was self-conscious and
hated the thought of looking patronizing so I had another
whisky instead.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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A Winter Memory
Enchanting Winter Memory
The day is lead dark and heavy, TV tells me of unwanted snow,
planes cannot take off or land.
There wasn’t much snow on the flatland of western Norway,
but it was cold, lakes and ponds froze and a bitter wind blew.
I skated round and around till I was inside a white vortex and
the world a blur, I heard nothing alone in the magic stillness
of my breath, now I was free and could fly.
Suddenly the wonder ended, I fell on hard unyielding ice, back
on earth I heard the farmer calling me… milking time.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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A Verse For You
The verse I wrote last night
Is the same I wrote this morning
About my love for you
Rainy days are your tears
Sunshine is your brilliant smile
Everything I see of nature
Reminds me of you
Primrose and roses I can’t escape
The meadow where horses graze
And the morning mist
And the clearing in the woods
Where rabbits frolic
And in the undergrowth so full of
Juicy mushrooms.
And the all seeing eagle flying high.
They are all you my beloved
And your name is … hang on a bit
In all my lyrical prose
I have forgotten your name.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Last Dance
They had been dancing to the tunes of a juke box,
now it was dawn and they were alone except for
the barman who was asleep leaning his head on
his folded arms on the mahogany counter.
Soon the sun would break through followed by
the day and they had to face the dreaded future.
Both were married but not to each other, were their
love strong enough to survive the glare of the day?
They didn't know the answer, just one more dance.
Hell will come tomorrow with its heartache and loss,
but not yet. My god, let this moment last forever.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Cabin Fever
Cabin Fever.
The firewood in the hearth hiss and smoke
refuse to burn bright, these limbs of a giant
will not heat my cabin this winter evening.
I must have done something wrong, don’t
know what. I have doused the flaccid limbs
with alcohol, drank some too, now the fire
is burning bright with an inner ice blue tint.
From the floor looking up I see the roof is
on fire. Someone knocks on my door, I’m
a pirate burning my ship, there is rum for
everyone; for the dreary I’ve diet coke and
for the loony there is low fat yogurt.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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After A War
After a War.
1945 peace broke out, jubilant people danced
in streets; but there had to be revenge, women
who had slept with the enemy, the easy targets,
were rounded up, dragged to the police yard.
Heads were shorn, bald women what a strange
sight… tears and laughter. I knew one of them
she lived in a basement flat near us, she used to
give me soft slices of bread with strawberry jam.
I was told to not speak to her, this fallen hussy;
and that was ok, she was now poor as us had
nothing to give, but her shame and endless tears.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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