where is Alex

Where is Alex?

He was a famous snooker player, who squandered his fortune
and talent. They all loved him to bits, they said, at his funeral.
His daughter read a poem. Drugs and alcohol had reduced him
to beg, in pubs, challenge amateur players for a game, getting
enough money for more booze and cigarettes.
A free soul, or a man ruled by his vices? A happy go lucky chap
who did as he pleased? Not a man beset by his failures, alone
on the darkest night? Five hundred mourners, florists made
a killing. He had lain death for a week in his flat, and no one
had bothered to ask: “Where is Alex?

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Evenhere, In My Valley

Even here in my valley

After seeing the horror of Mumbai
how peaceful my vale is, rain falls
gently on the roof; earlier today as
as sun and rain shambled about
I saw, in the old olive grove where
the rainbow had landed, forest gods
danced lustily around an angel sat
on a throne of glitzy stones.

As I came nearer they saw me and
disappeared in a mist of aromatic
rose’s scent. It was not a dream, for
I saw marks of elegant, narrow feet,
but, alas, one had a hoofed foot,
bigger then a sheep’s, about the size
of a mule’s that lacks the want to
dance in a ring of reproductive desire.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Whiteness Within Me.

The whiteness within…me

Yesterday I saw an albino raven
it had just killed a sparrow and
had drops of blood on its chest.

Having had the privilege to be
white you would think it would
desist from killing sparrows.

But I must be wrong perhaps it
was an angel dressed as cardinal
they wear red and eat meat.

Or was it was a dove of peace
wearing a ruby necklace, or had
it been hurt by an Israeli sniper?

Perhaps it was a white cloud
I saw drifting along on blue

[...] Read more

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Ignored. (a Seagull Story)

Ignored. (A seagull story)

At the seaside restaurant it was busy everyone was eating lobsters,
I tried to catch the waiters’ eye. I was ignored and got the feeling
that I was Invisible, or that I was so small that my head didn’t reached
over the table. A seagull landed on my table a beautiful bird,
yellow beak and feet, plumage snowy white its wings light grey/blue
and its eyes were green; it also had the aroma of the Atlantic Ocean.
Waiter came, looked at the bird asked what it wanted, lobster, I said
when the dish came I gave it to the bird. Got up, left and no one tried
to stop me.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Nature's Peace

On my scooter I was driving along a slender road
on the upper valley. At the bottom of the vale,
where the main road is, I heard swishes of traffic.
A hot afternoon but the westerly wind blew from
the sea and made it bearable. I stopped and just
sat there listening to the subdued natural din.

On the other side of the valley houses have been
built since I came, that’s ok, as they blend in with
the landscape. I looked up and saw the dead oak,
leafless and grey, nothing lasts forever my friend.
An old man now I’m aware of my mortality, but
this was a moment of peace, and I felt invincible.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Rainbow Man

There was a man, who built a massive kaleidoscope,
I think he was a borderline communist looking for
equality amongst colours…then he walked in to it.
He was so enthralled by his finding that, yes indeed
all are different but very equal, even white and black
had an important place in the scale of shades.

He didn't come out to eat thought he could eat hues
instead, which according to him, in his colour induced?
delirium, tasted as marmalade on fresh loaf; so he was
left in his heaven and forgotten. Years later when he
was found they discovered, a pink skeleton wrapped in
non conformity.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Light Shoes with Straps

In Aruba I bought a pair of sandals, with leather straps and
shiny steel buckles; I wore them with white ankle socks.
Coming home from the sea in June no one in my town had
sandals like mine. Mind, not much call for sandals in
Liverpool, winter rain, soggy streets, hailstones and so on.
When I went back to sea, I left the sandals under my bed
to wear when returning, but when I came back brother had
worn them to death, broken straps and rusty buckles.
I was very sad, but then I met a girl called Sandra and since
it was October, too cold for sandals and white ankle socks,
I got over the loss.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Log Book

From a ship’s logbook
Sat on deck another long day I smelled of chippy fat
and the sweat of honest labour

The stove in the galley was oil fired but I wanted to
read a few poems before I had a shower.

The light wasn’t any good so I read a western book,
as I always had wanted to be a sheriff in Texas.

The book was good I knew the words before I read
them, fell asleep when I awoke it was midnight

I knocked on my cabin door, give roaches a change
escape; impossible long days and blithe was the sea

In the morning I was still reeking of chippy fat and it
was too late to have a shower.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Tiff

The Tiff.

All the games we play, I was busy when you called
had no time to speak to you
So when I rang you back you said you were busy
too and had no time to talk.

Then you will sit by the phone; wait for me to ring,
but hurt by your voice I will not ring before next day.
We will both have a bad night, angry and lonely.
So when I do ring you will say something sarcastic
and I will slam down the phone.

Sleepless night and tired days, something has to give.
So I pick up the phone tell you that I love you,
you say you love me too and the sun shines again.
Ah, the games we play, they call it love

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Chains

In Chains

In the valley where I live there are no elephants
and that’s sad for the children who have to go
indoors and watch a wildlife program on TV to
see one of those magnificent creatures.

My valley is far from Africa and is full of olive,
lemon and almond trees that make the landscape
look like its been painted by Van Gogh, friendly
mules too lend ambience, but sadly no elephants.

Saw an elephant, once, at a fair it was chained to
rusty iron looked forlorn gloomy eyes that often
cried but it had resigned to its fate, that was a sad
sight to see an animal robbed of its natural dignity.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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