One Hundred Poems, Volume II



  One Hundred Poems

  Volume II

  Tuomas Vainio

  One Hundred Poems, Volume II. Copyright © 2015 Tuomas Vainio.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without a written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please contact the author at [email protected].

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of

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  Discover other titles by Tuomas Vainio:

  Heart of Ceres (Science Fiction)

  One Hundred Poems vol I (Poetry)

  Table of Contents:

  Here we go again

  On the sixth of march

  Compulsory Swedish

  Under the storm and rain (For a fantasy novel)

  Combined European Army?

  European army and how it could work

  Dandelion Prince (For a fantasy novel)

  A Top Gear job opening?

  Terry Pratchett

  #GamerGate and Women in Video Games?

  CHAPPiE

  Garnet

  Poetry is a sounding board

  Break up poem

  Parenting?

  Old love

  We will own this sky

  21.03.2015

  Gaming and microtransactions

  Feminism is our modern swastika

  Space Monkey

  Passive Aggressive Spring

  #Gamergate as FBI priority

  4/5th Direction

  Space Monkey

  Old School Western

  Stereotypical Fantasy Villain

  Another World

  Early bird

  The Dead Fields (For a fantasy novel)

  For what it's worth

  Pillars of Eternity

  I hate you

  Headache

  Let me see

  Culture of rape?

  Hugo Awards 8.4.2015 4/8/2015

  Were I to sell renewable energy

  135 downloads

  #SadPuppies

  Break

  It keeps going onwards

  Hillary's tweet

  GRRM and Sad Puppies

  Netflixdevil

  NASA | SDO: Year 5

  Tower of Judgement (For a fantasy novel)

  Baron of Storms (For a fantasy novel)

  Two days to elections

  The Terror of Honey Badgers at Calgary Expo

  Election Day

  Courage and Bigotry

  Fear

  On the Death of Racism

  Ode to my new hat

  Bicycle

  Flash Gordon

  Man of Steel

  Political Correctness

  The Two Natural Disasters

  Birthday Roses

  Thoughts on Baltimore Riots

  David Simon: End the Drug War

  Happy thoughts

  News from Nepal in 2015

  Bernie Sanders for President

  Space Monkey

  And the sky shall fall

  I like to argue like a Flame Warrior

  Sleep

  Night at the club

  On Potatoes

  A gamer is dead, long live the gamer!

  Space Monkey

  All those racist words

  Controversial poems...

  Fried Rice

  Taunts online

  My dear Watson

  I received a letter

  On police with cameras

  King's counsel (For a fantasy novel)

  Girlfriend's espresso

  On women who want to have it all

  On a brighter note

  A response to Elisa Chavez's “#gamergate”

  Sidetracked

  The bitch waits in the shower

  A Person of Colour

  “Redneck Avengers: Tulsa Nights” — A Bad Lip Reading

  Hundred online straws

  Headaches of mine

  The Green Elephant

  Sandwich with ham

  And now she wants salmon

  Sidekick Max: Furiosa's Road

  To Be A Delicate Flower

  A Green Car

  Hello my love

  Some Two Hundred Poems

  Here we go again

  It is a new start,

  Time for second part,

  Not quite the work of art,

  Only more poems to take apart,

  Thus I wonder if I truly have the heart.

  But here we go again;

  Another hundred poems that I deign.

  Here we go again.

  :)

  On the sixth of march

  My coming vote became clear,

  When I witnessed today's sneer,

  Their crass ignorance of what is right,

  The unwillingness to correct decades of blight,

  I cannot understand how they remain so blind,

  I shall never remember them in kind,

  They try to hold back the change,

  They suffer from mental mange.

  Compulsory Swedish

  There is no need for compulsory Swedish,

  It is quite far away from what we wish,

  Let us choose the languages we learn,

  Let us work hard for what we yearn,

  Away with the binds that chain us,

  A willing mind is always a plus,

  A mind freed of false reasons,

  Of your intellectual treason,

  Please just open your ears,

  Set aside your bigoted fears,

  So your mind will not be askew,

  And we could learn a language or two,

  Instead of hours and years simply wasted,

  We could learn foreign languages without hatred,

  But nor voice or reason ever shines your dim minds,

  You persist to see us fall and struggle with binds,

  When we could learn to embrace the world,

  We are simply kept place in a choke hold,

  Yet no one can be forced to learn Swedish,

  It does not matter how hard you try or wish,

  It does not matter which inside trades you play,

  As your arguments remain without a single sway,

  As our wish of freedom and choice is forever stronger,

  And thus you cannot hold us back a single moment longer.

  Under the storm and rain (For a fantasy novel)

  Can you hear the wind moan,

  See the ropes and banners thrown,

  This storm tonight is something new,

  Change cackles before morning anew,

  What it shall bring forth nobody knows,

  So huddle around in wait as the wind goes,

  Hear its harrowing tap against glass and walls,

  Huddle together around fire until morning calls,

  This is not the first storm to arrive in our city,

  We will survive as things are not gritty,

  Just huddle along and watch the fire,

  Let us enjoy warmth under storm's ire,

  And see for ourselves what morning shall sire.

  Combined European Army?


  Our president gave his thumb up,

  But I think it is time for a close up,

  To consider who shall bear it all,

  Who in case of war is first to fall,

  Is he blind to our very proximity,

  How we can have no unanimity,

  How Europe forgot to forearm,

  How I long not to raise my arm,

  But I am forced by conscription,

  So my life is up out of dereliction,

  Thus today my fate was sealed,

  Russia always strikes a shield,

  Testing metal and will behind,

  It is how our history is twined,

  As my worth seems bugger all,

  I must wonder where shall I fall.

  European army and how it could work

  Although not officially in numbers but in relations,

  We in Europe we have some hundred nations,

  So who would wish to send next of kin,

  Away from home to risk their skin,

  To fight with their leg and arm,

  For somebody else's farm?

  Well, in the past Europe relied and fought with mercenary armies,

  So who could produce the needed numbers ever so hearty,

  Beyond the Northern corner of the union; Finland,

  Nation of war known to fight until last stand,

  So pool in your taxes and funnel expenses,

  Finnish men will become your defences.

  From one corner to another they stand ready and in devout guard,

  Ready to leap in action with the first sounds of bombard,

  No more would your own sons and family need to die,

  When those at risk are soldiers you could buy,

  True descendants of blue-eyed northmen,

  Have them serve you time and again.

  Dandelion Prince (For a fantasy novel)

  A little rat off the streets,

  How he suffered many defeats,

  All while longing to find his place,

  Until there was no one left to chase,

  So became time to wander from home,

  To leave with a heart ready to roam,

  To ever more try to find his place,

  Without leaving a single trace,

  To venture far and wide,

  Find wonders with stride,

  At least so the legend begins,

  In tales shared in taverns and inns,

  Of a boy ever followed by dandelions,

  With a roar that terrifies even lions.

  A Top Gear job opening?

  I did mail that last poem,

  And so shattered jeroboam,

  The series suspended for now,

  How it goes on is unsure; I avow,

  Could I possibly expect a letter back,

  With some luck perhaps I got the knack,

  And to think of that...

  .... my face on Top Gear,

  It will never happen, I am sure of that.

  Terry Pratchett

  I have read your books,

  Looked for them in library nooks,

  Because they gave me reason to smile,

  To laugh and cry for a while,

  To forget how this world seems dreary,

  How the weight becomes weary,

  I cannot thank enough for your books,

  The ones I found in those library nooks,

  But now you have passed away,

  Avoided the rush hour in your clever way,

  Yet what saddens me most is how I have lost the thrill,

  Of opening your latest filled with your wit and skill,

  How I would read it through the late of night,

  How on the next day I would curse your verbal might,

  As I would trot onwards barely half-awake,

  But now it is time for your wake,

  And I offer you my thanks,

  My old friend I never met.