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Best Poems Written by Jan Hansen

Below are the all-time best Jan Hansen poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Les Miserable

Les Miserable 

I walked and walked down a steep ravine and came across
a village has forgotten by time by a road that evaded dwellings
A track not trodden among boulders and roofs made of canes.
skinny women with empty breasts sat on the bough of trees
waiting for someone to enter their loss of love
While telling their idiot children in the wet grass to shut up
Oh, crying stones free us from the untidy domestic wilderness
where dogs are too indifferent to muster barks. 
Under flat stones, the men are hiding the emptiness of the
existence too much to bear now that the vines take no berry
On this day that has no time, but the endlessness of the gone
Cabbage patch, yellow chickens looking for worms before 
the children do because they are hungry too.

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Street Walker In Oslo

Street Walker in Oslo 

As the black-winged night occupies my balcony
and spread its wings in triumph and shop lights
try in vain to illuminate and gladden a grubby street
I see you leaving your flat and begin your night shift
As you walk past splashes of yellow light,
I can see your white powdered face has not yet
settled into its customary inviting grin and your
lips are a machete slash where blood has coagulated
into lumps long ago.
Dressed in red tonight in the hope of attracting 
rampant lust, but since you are an old bird
you are reduced to service those with a putrid need
for violence, but even in your disgrace I know 
your heart is pure.

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When the Going Gets Cold

When the going gets cold

I was going down the lane
when I saw an ice front coming up the hill
I let go of the dog.
Ran home and burnt old poetry books
to keep the cold at bay.
Sagacity went up in flames keeping me warm
cold ashes and regrets.
The dog, with its thick fur and disregard 
of reading
survived in the hollow of an old oak.

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Entrepid

The Intrepid 

Tall Savannah grass, he had to drive on its only road it was narrow 
had no pavement, he rode his scooter could see the ears of big cats 
listening.
It was noon, the lions didn’t like the smell emitting from his scooter, 
animals only eat when hungry.
He stopped switching off the motor he wanted to be attacked by a lion, 
be eaten alive he thought life would give meaning to his futile life. 
The silence was total heard insects crossing the road sound like a regiment 
on war foot.
Now or never, walked into the tall grass remembered lines like 
“I’m the master of my destiny.”
What rot! He knows nothing about the future.
The savannah was an oat field, a farmer shouted scared the lions away.
Sometimes we will be eaten by the worms in the soil
that is undignified.

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In Defence of Donald Trump

In Defence of Donal Trump

He is a crude person, not one I would
like the share a coke with, but he has galvanised
the working class (middle class) which was
shunned under the previous administration.
The class forgotten by other parties have found
a voice someone who talks for them 
and more Americans are at work as never before.
He represents an America that is not glib and
university educated but merely want a job and be able
to feel they are listened to.
He is a reckless president does not understand 
foreign politics and don`t care to know, but his group
do not care about Afghanistan, Iraq or other places,
he is delivering want they want.
This is what an American president is for?

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Grass Clippers

Silent grass clippers
 Why must lawn movers make such a noise?
Why do people with a garden seek to make an outdoor carpet?
Why people seek to make lawns look like an arrested childhood?
We can understand football stadiums, the ball runs faster
and the players do not stub their delicate feet on mature grass.
One day grass will give up growing turn into sand pits a place
For children to build sandcastles.
as big signs telling us not to walk on the grass?
This is not nature but humans trying to tame the natural world.

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Cleanliness

Cleanliness 

The small town 
Up north
Is so clean
Shoes is 
Forbidden 
Out doors
Only woolly
Socks
People 
Do not go
Out a lot
Especially not
In winters.

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Security Guard

Security guard 

I was broke, no work for me at the shipping office,
got a job guarding tractors; sat in a hut that was cold and had no heating
and bad light. Well, this job was better than sitting at home
lamenting my unemployment, but my god was it boring.
Sat on a tractor pretending I was a farmer ploughing a potato field,
and that was tedious too. The uniform they had given me 
was too small for my frame looked like a walking scarecrow.
 At midnight another guard came to take over and I asked him
how he could survive the tedium. Me, he said I go to sleep
I have full time work during the day.
Next day I got a phone from the shipping office it had been 
difficult they said I had a reputation for not playing ball
and being argumentative; took the job handed in my uniform.

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Foresight

The foresight

When I look back on my life, which I seldom do
I think in my writing, I should be deeper; alas, my self-mockery gets in the way.
Why should I think I`m intellectual to have any worth to say?
It appears to me that many on Facebook feel important enough to enlightening us with their homilies?
If you live like this or that, you will find peace and happiness. 
Balderdash!
Reading what philosophers said, is interesting but it does not change your mind. 
Nor does reading the bible makes you a Christian.
Gladness is a gift and the place for village idiots who lack the ability 
to reflect upon life.
speculated on what life is for is useless; the only cure is acceptance
that life is cruel, and if you live long enough, friends may drive you around
asking you about the old days, a time you rather forget.
No religion or philosophy will rescue you; you are on your own until death.

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The Poem We Cannot Write

The poem we can`t write
 
Make it clear poetry is redundant 
 poets write verses packed in wool
 only other poets can understand,
they are usually about love and peace
but no one is listening.
 There are of course nationalistic poets
who advocates war they are listening to
and often recited by politicians.
Negro spiritual music called the blues
are the poetry of the oppressed the rest of
us write pedestrian poems are forgotten.
So forget that you can write poetry
that is not based on the suffering of the soul.