One Hundred Poems, Volume I

by Tuomas Vainio

  And if lucky I too might even survive,

  But the storm only knew to whip and tear,

  Funny how little drops could feel like spears,

  Beaten and bruised I was alone in the dark,

  And my mind could not be more stark,

  I cursed them all to the hells and pain,

  If I survived I vowed for their bane,

  And so came down the flash,

  The clouds torn as I felt a lash,

  My skin was burned and marked,

  But I survived it and thus was freed,

  And now there is a new storm to heed,

  You shall be bound like I was bound,

  You won't be allowed to make a sound,

  Whether you survive is for the god to decide,

  But regardless I bid my farewells to you with pride,

  After all very few get the chance to see the god,

  And as your dad said; do not forget to be awed.

  Washing machine

  The neighbour downstairs is doing laundry,

  It annoys but I do not wish to act staunchly,

  So instead I try to bear for the hour or three,

  As vibrations echo like the buzz of a giant bee.

  Bio

  I was born to parents,

  In a distant land of ancients,

  I suppose I grew up rather selfish,

  And that made me unbearably brattish.

  But I got over it somehow,

  Along with my shouts of holy cow,

  And so what lingers on is just who I am,

  A witty can of tuna filled with nothing but spam.

  And eventually I decided to write,

  Not caring at all how my works remain trite,

  And I suppose that is the reason why you are reading this,

  It probably won't leave you with anything to look back and reminisce.

  Dubsteb

  Wub, wub, wub,

  Wub, wub, wub,

  Tuberculosis,

  Wub, wub, wub,

  Wub, wub, wub,

  Awkward silence,

  Tuberculosis,

  Tuberculosis,

  Wub, wub, wub,

  Tuberculosis,

  Awkward silence,

  Wub, wub, wub.

  A question oddly profound,

  Is there beauty in sound,

  Or does it fall to repetition,

  With the fads of fashion,

  Nothing but a test of patience,

  On our earlier experience?

  Wub, wub, wub,

  Wub, wub, wub,

  Tuberculosis,

  Tuberculosis,

  Tuberculosis,

  Wub, wub, wub,

  Wub, wub, wub,

  Awkward silence.

  I heard it on the car radio,

  Also when buying folio,

  It used to drive me insane,

  Now it is all the same.

  Awkward silence,

  Wub, wub, wub,

  Tuberculosis,

  Wub, wub, wub,

  Wub, wub, wub,

  Awkward silence.

  What do you make of that?

  Winter Olympics

  Winter jackets sold,

  Skis covered in mould,

  Winter sports getting old,

  Audience returns to the fold,

  And so they shiver in the cold,

  Observe the games as told,

  Who shall win gold,

  Toes all ice-cold.

  Putin

  I do not know who you are,

  Whether a peasant poet or a tsar,

  We fear what might come with wars,

  You cry foul but we all bear our own scars,

  And as the brave shout out their roars,

  How they pretend to be carnivores,

  We still stand under same stars,

  So isn't it all simply bizarre?

  Sleep honey

  My darling sleep now,

  Surely you know how,

  It is not time to giggle,

  Or turn and wiggle,

  To be your best,

  Find a way to rest,

  Your eyes are weary,

  Your yawns are heavy,

  I am here by your side,

  Tugged into blanket inside,

  So just find your peace,

  Maybe count some geese,

  Just sleep my honey,

  Just sleep my honey.

  Patriarchy

  The Second World War,

  Women toiled dirty in tar,

  An event that shattered views,

  Shook all of society in its sinews,

  Roles assumed began to crumble,

  Beliefs taught began to tumble,

  Grow did the desires to be more,

  And the more chained the more sore,

  Were those not given a freedom of choice,

  A chance to speak out with their own voice,

  Thus heated anew a battle more than righteous,

  A burst of social change without comparable likeness,

  There were isms from left to right and from up to down,

  Describing what was wrong with almost vicious frown,

  And most of all who was to be blamed for it all,

  Thus for some it was men who made women small,

  It was summed up as the hypothesis of patriarchy,

  A belief where men stand in control of the key,

  Keeping the fates of women all but locked,

  Hence desire to change the society was solidified,

  Thus great strides were put to motion as society awoke,

  Yet it was also forgotten who suffered most under the yoke,

  A minority group whose sexuality and identity could not find a place,

  In the confines of the society without an instantaneous smear case,

  Thus they were the ones who suffered the most,

  And accused all men uppermost,

  How they hid under the ism of feminism,

  To find their place and love under sheets of linen,

  As society of old was not quite ready to accept the truth,

  It was easier path than open homosexuality for the youth,

  Thus I can understand their pain and their blight,

  But it does not mean I have lost my sight,

  Of how patriarchy is but an echo of bygone era,

  Something that should have faded like a tattoo of henna,

  No more do you need to hide behind words,

  As the world has leaped ever upwards,

  Just open a dating app on your phone,

  Know what you want and you won't be alone,

  And as long as you have your vision,

  Not set aside by indecision,

  Or first troubles faced,

  There is nothing holding you in place,

  Patriarchy is but an empty word used as an excuse.

  Selma

  I wonder what the future brings,

  Whether there can be another King,

  Someone to speak out for what is right,

  Someone whose mouth carries might,

  Someone to bring people together,

  To guide us through bad weather,

  One to ensure least of us gets home,

  One not to expect a statue of chrome,

  One to comfort us in our sorrow,

  Telling of the better tomorrow,

  Perhaps someone already has been,

  But it is easy to forget what was seen,

  When we can focus on something else,

  And thumb up in nothing but pretence,

  Check out who did what and when,

  Nipple slips, recipes to cook hen,

  All while the world is burning,

  Grinding to a halt instead of turning,

  A half will freeze and the other burn,

  It is clear how no one will ever learn,

  Yet I wish we could learn to be better...

  Je Suis Charlie

  Collection of wor
ds that spread like plague,

  Even if the meaning behind remained vague,

  And I have to wonder what exactly went down,

  Who were the innocents and culprits in that town?

  But as it stands; there is no one left to tell us the whole story,

  Just news out of reactions, panic, and night endless worry,

  Yet nothing really changed from how things were before,

  So we could all just lie down and continue to snore,

  As it is far more likely for us to die, I do implore,

  By simply slipping down on the bathroom floor.

  Oddities in behaviour

  Did someone just give you mean time?

  It seems there is no greater crime,

  Than somehow forgetting to smile,

  And now you have to walk the mile.

  Funny how little it took for you to fail,

  Cannot even tell if you were hammer or nail.

  But you'll bounce back as you do,

  You rarely cry for the spilt stew,

  And perhaps that is why,

  You never smile or even try.

  But here I go again,

  Trying to be your bane,

  Please flex corners of your lips,

  I cannot come up with any easier tips,

  As that is really all it takes,

  To beat the stakes,

  To make some friends,

  And even succeed in amends.

  But stubborn as you are,

  I know you will try to go far,

  Without a single smile.

  You are as sour as a lime.

  Enough

  It is an easy thing to shout,

  As you just open your mouth,

  And let all know you had enough,

  And to make it worth more than a fart,

  That truly is the hardest part,

  To let go of your heart.

  There is no machine to insert a dime,

  No matter how much it feels like a crime,

  We simply cannot turn back all that lost time.

  So would you rather continue to stare backwards,

  Or would you rather like to see forwards,

  As you continue to move onwards?

  I cannot make this decision for you,

  I cannot help you to pull through,

  Only ask what really feels true,

  Have you really had enough,

  Enough to bear the rough,

  Is your heart tough?

  An upbeat heart (For a fantasy novel)

  Why do I long to fly,

  To soar across the sky,

  To see the ends of world afar,

  To travel and see distant stars,

  This urge to explore,

  What is it all for?

  The blue skies call for my name,

  So I reach up but never for fame,

  I do it for the experience,

  To discover my deliverance,

  For the notion to be bound forever down,

  Makes us all too unbearable to be around.

  I take the risks no one else would,

  Because perhaps no one else should,

  For I fear not failure,

  Nor negative valure,

  The world is out there for taking,

  And I am ready for whatever it brings.

  So that is why I long to fly,

  I got courage that cannot be denied,

  Bravery where it counts the most,

  As that brings home my toast,

  So follow my lead if you dare,

  All in all, the world needs to beware.

  Forever

  I know how this has been going on forever,

  Yet I feel it does not need to go on forever,

  Look at this bad blood between us,

  It is not how we should defines us,

  Look how our eyes are the same,

  Filled with but regret and shame,

  If we could only find the courage,

  We could end the strife of our age,

  Put an end to this foul cycle of violence,

  Replace it with friendship and patience,

  We could look at each other without hate,

  Work together to achieve something great,

  But here we both stand over the bodies of old,

  Both far too scared to violate what we are told,

  So perhaps it is simply meant to continue forever...

  … No not a day more, ever,

  This is where I make my stand for what is right,

  No more does the violence between us carry might,

  Do you can shoot me down or take my hand,

  Will you shoot me down or take my hand?

  On Aspects of Freedom of Speech

  I believe in the freedom to insult,

  Of the right to ridicule to a fault.

  If your beliefs need protection,

  They are in need of inspection,

  And possibly even total ejection,

  Followed by truthful correction.

  It lets us challenge things that are taboo,

  Walls and obstacles that once held us askew,

  Turn those into something we can see through,

  And our world will transform into something new.

  Thus while words can certainly hurt, main, and disdain,

  They can also be used as a sword swung as the lies' bane.

  Thus the right to insult is our greatest discovery,

  What allows us to defeat our mental drudgery,

  If we refrain from acts of violent thuggery.

  Thus for a politician, teacher, or a priest,

  There is hardly no greater fear or beast,

  Than scrutiny of their words increased.

  If you hear words that are but an insult,

  Try to see if it is you who is at fault.

  A different view

  I was wrong,

  It was all lies,

  I feel so stupid.

  How to let go of something life long,

  How could I ever consider myself wise,

  How it all burns and aches inside my head.

  Yet something new comes along,

  A chance for me to reach new highs,

  A chance to change how I have acted.

  So I find myself strong,

  As I followed new advice,

  And I am glad that I doubted.

  I am no longer wrong,

  I managed to see past the lies,

  Thus I have no reason to feel stupid.

  Soul of Music

  What is music,

  This beat so sick,

  The sound so wild,

  The sound so reviled,

  As we hear it together,

  Somehow it feels better,

  We were lured as moths,

  Whatever were our paths,

  With strangers and mates,

  Here we stand in this place,

  And now people are moving,

  How their bodies are jerking,

  So wild we could tear the wall,

  This moment is shared by us all,

  How it grabs a hold of our minds,

  How it frees it from ancient binds,

  On this moment we are all the same,

  In the world there is nothing to blame,

  Can you hear the rhythm of this sound,

  Can you feel how it shakes the ground?

  Tangerine

  It is smaller than my fist,

  That is the general twist,

  Easier to peel than orange,

  A treat without challenge,

  Sometimes sweet or sour,

  I could eat twelve by hour,

  The easiest part of cuisine,

  A simple mundane tangerine.

  On the Existence of Gods

  To me stories are but stories,

  Causing shivers like a breeze,

  Helping one to find some ease,

  Recollection of
loves and envies,

  Of ancient leaders and their armies,

  Brilliance that defines our blasphemies.

  It is our personal comfort,

  Are the words used to assert,

  To explain the belief most overt,

  To excuse any and all discomfort,

  Poor logic and terrible manners spurt,

  How you cover lack of intellectual effort.

  Heroes born and lie,

  But their feats won't die,

  Words are the wings to fly,

  Until those define the very sky,

  So we are lorded by someone high,

  Something divine with bullshit in supply.

  The scientific method,

  Not a belief to be chanted,

  It shatters beliefs most dreaded,

  It reveals us how not to be blinded,

  It can cure us from bigotry and hatred,

  If we open our minds to reason to be prided.

  Closet Template

  Listen, it is hard to explain;

  I'm tired by this need to feign,

  To cover up how I feel this pain,

  No more do I care for your disdain,

  I hope you find a way to be humane,

  To consider your words and use refrain.

  I am ____,

  I am not ashamed,

  Not any more, or ever again.

  Sugar, we are in a space opera

  Look at me and jump,

  It is time to flee this dump,

  You will have no better guide,

  Just hold my hand as we shall stride,

  All across the farthest depths of space,

  Learn that I am worthy of your embrace,

  We will face dangers at every corner,

  It will make our bond grow stronger,

  Hold and do not let go of my hand,

  For I will show you something grand,

  From pulsars to birth of brand new stars,

  Witness trillions of vessels dying in wars,

  As our path takes us from star to star,

  Can you even imagine how far?

  It is time to flee this dump,

  Look at me and jump.

  On “classical music”

  What could classical music possibly offer,

  When today it seems like a genuine bother,

  Requiring investment of time, skill, and aptitude,

  Not to mention players in a quantity of multitude,

  Filled with inconveniences in the simplest presentation,

  Without any points of credibility to youth of this nation,

  On the face of individual but a slap of a wet towel,

  Truly the whole concept is most morose and foul,

  Yet why does it still electrify my very skin,

  When its very nature is both used and thin?

  We applaud the genius of a lone soul,