One Hundred Poems, Volume I

by Tuomas Vainio

  How one alone could fill up any role,

  Yet a one man's band is still just an effort of one,

  Thus bound by limitations to what could be done,

  Where the effort of one can only fall short, perhaps a group can succeed,

  It can shape and combine together the singular sounds after unified creed,

  Thus have power to raise our spirits or simply ensnare,

  It could even reshape our minds without a single care,

  But it still requires to be given the chance,

  A moment slightly longer than a glance.

  What you can do all alone,

  Without the need to groan,

  Is to pick any song you already like,

  Check for orchestral rendition alike,

  Then click play as you close your eyes to enjoy the ride,

  To experience something new with already familiar side,

  And perhaps it can open your mind,

  To see beauty behind all that grind,

  Learn how to appreciate,

  What once did not satiate.

  26.01.2015 Syriza 01/26/2015

  Political will was recently torn from its roots,

  Now they all quake in their boots,

  Those Troika's scared big fat cats,

  With their own debts spewing out of their hats,

  The money owed and money spent,

  It was all given with same consent,

  As we all traded those Dutch tulips once more,

  As belief did not turn concrete under the floor,

  It was far too late to cry about regrets,

  And someone had to pay all the debts,

  Thus what came before was just same old lies,

  Dangled with the promise of even greater rise,

  Along with the strangest of compromise,

  Only the people were responsible endwise,

  Those with least felt the cut in their own purse,

  While corrupt politicians were not ounce worse,

  Greater profits for them without pangs of guilt,

  As the ones hurt most were not their own ilk,

  Just an invisible mob without money or future,

  And now they begin to understand their blooper,

  As people voted for Syriza seeking for a change,

  Now we wait to see if they march like a phalange.

  On the actions of terrorists

  A statement that is indispensable;

  These actions are incomprehensible,

  While I understand the intent to sooth,

  It can only lead us further from the truth,

  When someone points a gun at another,

  We all cry not to do it to your brother,

  And so we fail to say the obvious,

  As the truth makes us nauseous;

  People without their self worth,

  Feel they have no place on Earth,

  Just broken souls seeking for advice,

  Therefore it is more than easy to entice,

  By words of worth and ideals not quite right,

  That enables them to rediscover their own might,

  What gives them a purpose in their hopeless blight,

  And turns them away from light by stealing their sight,

  They are hopelessly bound by words both hollow and ill,

  Their actions become devoid of all reason and free will,

  Meaning is found in reasons convoluted and obtuse,

  The bottled wrath is just waiting to be set loose,

  A constant longing for the chance to get even,

  To finally act on what they believe in,

  And so their cruelty comes easy.

  But what makes me feel uneasy,

  Is how behind the vestige of a monster,

  Behind the actions of cruelty and slaughter,

  I still see a human being both hurt and misguided,

  Someone who tried to find a place in a world lopsided,

  Someone forced to face a question immutable,

  With consequences all but irrefutable,

  When a gun is against a forehead,

  Someone always ends up dead.

  Day

  Without much of a say,

  Today is just a day,

  Yet another day,

  Another day,

  All away,

  Will it stay,

  I cannot say,

  I will not play,

  It is another day,

  Where is the way,

  Why is it not okay,

  Who are we anyway,

  I do not know the way,

  There is no one to pray,

  Not a reason for a hurray,

  How can I make you stay?

  Legend of Zelda

  Is it not strange that the Hero of Time,

  Vanquisher of all foes and puzzle rhyme,

  Remains forever unnamed on the cover ink,

  Why is the game never called Legend of Link?

  Who is this Zelda but a princess to rescue,

  A pretty doll at the end of royal queue,

  Crying for the brave Link for help,

  Truly she is but a pathetic whelp.

  Never did she raise the sword,

  Never did she collect the ruby hoard,

  Never did she venture out to challenge foes,

  All she ever did was to stare out of her windows.

  But perhaps we need to look at the path of our Link,

  Of everything he had to overcame and let it sink,

  Thousands of foes cut down without mercy,

  Of Rubies claimed on a stealing frenzy.

  He is destruction in green hood,

  Others are at the mercy of his attitude,

  For he longs for power and it will not elude,

  No obstacle is too great nor can he be subdued.

  So at the end of the day he stands above us all,

  All who once opposed him could only fall,

  And now he will claim his final price,

  The Princess Zelda as final vice.

  Link cannot be stopped by any army,

  To him none of us are different from a flea,

  Yet there is a moment when he puts his guard down,

  When he casts down his sword and looks at the torn gown.

  He encroaches to the bed and stares at the shivering breasts,

  Princess Zelda will not utter a single word of protest,

  She simply lies down for him to writhe against,

  Thus the boy tires for what commenced.

  Thus with both great care and billow,

  Her hand slides and reaches under a pillow,

  She gives the boy his final peck,

  And stabs him to his neck.

  So began the Legend of Zelda,

  A woman who did what no one else could.

  Strawberry mints

  Perhaps you are curious to hear of my favourite fragment,

  Of how I love that sweet strawberry flavoured scent,

  No more do I suffer from a stinky bad breath,

  No more do my kissy lips invoke death,

  And if you did not get the hint,

  Go get yourself a mint,

  Go my strawberry,

  Please hurry.

  Flicker Screen of Death

  Oh no how could you,

  What did I ever do to you,

  I carried you in my pocket,

  You were all I did covet,

  But now you flicker,

  And I do not snicker,

  I try my best to use you,

  But my eyes cannot stand the view,

  Your flicker is my bane,

  It drives me insane,

  Oh how I do moan,

  You were light that shone,

  You were my smart phone,

  Without you I am all alone,

  How can this be undone?

  Batman

  In the darkest night,

  There is a lone knight,

  Black cape and fist,


  Appears from the mist,

  Broken jaw and bones,

  His victim groans,

  In the dead end street,

  He disappears without heat,

  He is a bad man,

  Who acts without a plan,

  Living a life of violence,

  Hurled out of balance,

  There is no justice,

  His vengeance is aimless,

  He is no hero,

  He is less than zero,

  He beats on the weak and hopeless,

  Those ruined by his father's business,

  And he claims himself righteous,

  As he pees on the homeless,

  A man out of his mind,

  Man who is not kind,

  He is called batman.

  And he is a bad man.

  Freaky deaky nap dream

  I was walking on a street near some trees,

  It was snowing,

  If only calmly,

  I grabbed some snow and shaped it to a ball,

  And then I saw that I was not alone,

  There were people walking all around me,

  And so I pretended to tease and throw my little ball,

  It was not a good call,

  They got little crazy,

  Started to make snowballs of their own,

  I danced and dodged most of their throws,

  One just barely graced my nose,

  It was then that I shouted;

  This snowball is as elaborate as the concept of number one,

  And then I saw him; with huge chunks of snow lunging towards me,

  I looked at my snowball almost as clear as ice,

  Instead of throwing it I threw a round house kick,

  And that is when I woke up,

  With my leg standing up.

  Nerdy geek boy's first romance

  I was by myself,

  You by a bookshelf.

  How could I say it to you,

  When you treat me like a fool,

  And the sad thing is that I agree,

  I got the muscles and looks of flea,

  Even my interests are not that great,

  I could not mention them on a date.

  So here I linger two tables away,

  Hearing what you have to say,

  I am so close and still so far,

  You really are like a star.

  I suppose I could get up,

  But I'll probably get a hiccup,

  Then stumble and fall on my shoe lace,

  And become too embarrassed to show my face.

  So I can only look down on my plate,

  And I know what I really hate,

  How my lack of courage,

  Keeps me hostage.

  You walk away,

  I could shout; hey,

  That ought to astound,

  But instead I fidget around,

  Move spaghetti and meatballs,

  While looking at the cafeteria walls.

  If I found the courage and skill,

  Maybe someday I will,

  By the bookshelf...

  Maybe you'll hear how I feel of you.

  Maybe.

  On being introverted

  Can you image being afraid of everyone,

  That company of others makes you stun,

  Overpowered by a simple desire to run,

  A need to flee as if threatened by a gun?

  Can you image hearing too much,

  A quantity of speech you cannot take as such,

  How it makes you appear as if you were out of touch,

  How silence and solitude acts as your crutch,

  How excuses become your clutch?

  Where do you find your peace of mind,

  Is your avoidance of others predefined,

  Is it solitude that enables you to unwind,

  Would you like to be away from mankind?

  Then perhaps you might be introverted,

  There is a five year trip you could be designated,

  So would you like to go to planet Mars?

  In the eye of the beholder

  They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder,

  So you might wonder what I see in her;

  A kind heart and a smart mind,

  There is no greater find.

  If you disagree and refuse to give her fanfare,

  I still find her beautiful beyond compare,

  She opens my heart for the spring,

  Her presence is intoxicating.

  She is furthest away from being a bother,

  She has touched my heart like no other,

  Her presence makes my body tingle,

  For her I would even go to battle.

  I wonder if this is enough for answer,

  She holds my heart now and forever,

  She lies in the eyes of this beholder,

  My feelings will grow only fonder.

  A red line

  It was drawn here,

  To hide what we fear,

  But how does it appear,

  If we gave our ear to hear,

  To ignore how some do jeer,

  Make the violation most severe,

  And cross that red line we revere?

  I never was the easiest child

  Know your place,

  - How would that work in a race?

  Do what you are told,

  - What if it is worse than eating cancerous mould?

  Do not argue with me,

  - Because you are too blind to see?

  If you do that one more time,

  - No worries, you'll never hear of the next time.

  You are doing it the wrong way,

  - What makes you think you have any say?

  You are making me really mad right now,

  - I bet as mad as a crazy cow!

  That is what happens when you,

  - No worries, I'll live through.

  Don't do that,

  - Or what, you'll throw down your hat?

  On the Red Haired Superhero

  Have you read those American comics,

  And noticed what really sticks?

  Whether the fancy costumes are full or bare,

  Those heroines often come with red hair,

  As if it was superpower they all share,

  And of hue that is also simply rare.

  So whose fetish do we have to blame,

  For defining the rules of this game,

  Prevalence of this singular frame,

  How heroines look all the same,

  Barely told apart by their name,

  Don't you think it is a shame?

  But perhaps there is some added benefit to the red head galore,

  A way to make it look good without being a bore,

  A way to see past what is in store,

  What lies in the core?

  Red hair is often cause to be teased and ridiculed,

  It is how superheroes are schooled.

  Disgust is today's politics

  The elections are coming up,

  The parties have set their lines up,

  And now their posts show up online,

  How they act as feral as a evil canines,

  Yet smallest things they do not know,

  This simple fact stupefies me so,

  Five minutes of good search,

  It is hardly hard research,

  To get those numbers right,

  For all those things they write...

  Yet I have to spend my afternoons,

  Writing emails to those baboons,

  Their lack of effort is dishonest,

  It tarnishes all hope and trust.

  Perhaps that is the name of the game,

  How those sociopaths climb to fame,

  But I do not have to like it one bit,

  They disgust me enough to spit.

  Stray Cat

  You were born in a corner of a street,

  Barely able to stand on your feet,

&
nbsp; Little miserable ball of fur,

  No luck when you purr,

  Feeling hungry all the time,

  You have to roll and play in grime,

  And you most likely know of no better,

  Home and cover under a newspaper,

  What becomes no one knows,

  Your death is ever so close,

  Hearts frozen and faces unkind,

  Everyone walking by remains blind,

  And there is nothing anyone could do.

  As your fate is sealed and doomed,

  Perhaps you will live a day or two,

  Your value is less than that of a shoe,

  And there is nothing you can do...

  But it is not about what you can do,

  Instead it is about what I can do,

  No hiding from rats twice your size,

  All life is precious said someone wise,

  And I cannot bear to be so unkind,

  As to ignore what lies behind;

  Welcome home little stray,

  Let us live through day by day.

  If eyes are the mirror of the soul

  Look into my eyes,

  Can you see past my lies;

  How I only tell what I must,

  How my smile carries no trust,

  How I am buried in secrets,

  How it is driving me nuts,

  How I am at the end of my wits,

  How I am unable to stand more hits,

  How I would cry if I could,

  How I doubt there is anything good,

  How my every moment is an act,

  How I do my best to distract,

  Because it easy to be blind,

  And achieve a peace of mind,

  When pain of others is out of sight,

  Even if it does not feel quite right,

  So when you look into my eyes,

  Do you see past the lies?

  Where it all began (For a fantasy novel)

  Though my feet are sore,

  I find myself here once more,

  I have seen the ends of the world,

  The memories I carry are impearled,

  Burden almost like a noose on my neck,

  Yet I hold no regret for my long trek,

  I have found my way back home,

  But this is no end to my roam,

  Just a stop, nothing more.

  On the Airport Security Measures

  I am waiting in line,

  For others to check what is mine,

  It is a loss of privacy,

  Yet we are forced to comply blindly,

  Leave be my underwear,