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One Hundred Poems, Volume IX

Tuomas Vainio


One Hundred Poems

  Volume IX

  Tuomas Vainio

  One Hundred Poems, Volume IX. Copyright ? 2017 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-VIII (Poetry)

  Skull of Oghren (Fantasy)

  Table of Contents

  The sound of loneliness

  An oppressive country

  Avoiding a thing?

  Cowardice of Scottish newspapers

  Golden Showers

  'Hate speech'

  Final Fantasy XV

  Cunt

  Back to work?

  Moment of pessimism?

  Brexit?

  'Two European Leaders'

  The day many have dreaded?

  How did that song go again?

  "#WomensMarch"

  Gender Marxists

  Despicable behaviour

  White river

  Reform or revolution

  Generic villain species (For a science fiction novel)

  Suspended from Twitter

  Election promises

  'He will not divide us'

  Sleep rhythm

  Pretence of love and fake news

  Reeeee!

  Berkeley riot

  Salt of the internet

  Blink

  Just thoughts of today?

  Bleeding-heart liberal

  Soul-selling conservative

  Where are the jokes?

  Eiffel Wall

  Sweden's Feminist Government

  'Dear White People'

  Politics in comics done right?

  Lego Batman

  Thy name comes from hypocrisy

  #PewDiePieDidNothingWrong

  A meaningless word in ten years

  It begins anew?

  Trump 2020

  300 Russian hackers? To sort emails? REALLY?

  Trenches of a culture war

  So much for that peace

  Nothing but fake news

  Future Filtered

  A thing about free speech

  John Wick: Chapter 2

  I'm sexy

  A poem about online polls

  Lone wanderer

  Trump's "thin skin"

  European union silences any dissent

  Slush

  The age of walls

  A touch of madness (For a science fiction novel)

  Two five year old friends

  Half a moon

  Those men of ill intends

  After a snowfall

  Yet another '#' about women in the west?

  Vault7

  How could you not love humanity?

  And a novel draws to a close?

  Toothpaste

  Power of repetition

  On a distant world (For a science fiction novel)

  Dutch Election Results

  The radical left and garbage bins

  Faces of Andromeda

  That topic that escapes me mind

  Cover songs

  Go ahead, make my day?

  Some tears of joy

  The world that wasn't

  Art is not fit to stand among STEM fields

  Almost done?

  With headlines like these

  Iron Fist and its reviews

  Old media's war on the new

  Summertime madness

  Brexit Day

  Speech at the wall (For a fantasy novel)

  A society of ropes and canes

  So tired

  Ghost in the Shell

  The last multicultural empire of old Europe

  Distrust

  Winter is dead, so long live the spring

  The horrors of Syria

  I spat on the back of a flying seagull

  About recent events in Sweden

  Vote

  Sleep?

  No need for broadcasting licenses

  Life is strange (For a science fiction novel)

  Loneliness is bad for the economy

  900

  The sound of loneliness

  The house sounds so empty,

  Every second feels like twenty,

  And it is a day just like any,

  But I would not wish for many,

  Because loneliness is heavy,

  Unseen force that is truly scary,

  The hardest burden to carry,

  Blinded within any great library,

  It is an impossible adversary,

  And there is no hope of sanctuary,

  As an experience unnecessary,

  It is a foul curse to become solitary,

  Its horror may remain imaginary,

  Until finally thrust upon involuntarily.

  An oppressive country

  Do you know what lies underneath the snow,

  Is it dirt and stones or plants ready to grow,

  Just biding time with temperature low,

  Waiting for the spring sun's glow,

  But days pass ever so slow.

  Imagine if a mere opinion gets you killed,

  Then silence alone makes you gilled,

  But you are never truly thrilled,

  As reality lies unfulfilled,

  Yet truth gets instilled.

  The pressure remains ever growing,

  With a rate that is never slowing,

  But without strength showing,

  You will not see elbowing,

  But it is still ongoing.

  Thus on one day barriers break,

  It will seem a massive shake,

  But if you had been awake,

  It is not much of a quake,

  And world is less fake.

  Avoiding a thing?

  And here I am slacking off once more,

  Editing my poems feels like a chore,

  So things remain in my drawer,

  Perhaps for a day or four,

  Not a moment before.

  Cowardice of Scottish newspapers

  Are they addressing issues or doing honest reporting?

  No, they have chosen the path unsporting,

  One of dangerous courting,

  And self thwarting.

  A man online spoke views they did not exactly fancy,

  Ones that I do not even find slightly dandy,

  Yet the newspapers did something nasty,

  Perhaps in hopes of a headline flashy,

  They revealed his address and panty,

  Throwing him at mercy of vigilante,

  With no mercy granted to his family.

  And yes, this was just an attempt to deny credibility,

  One born out of pure bigotry of mental senility,

  It doesn't matter if views lack agree-ability,

  If this man becomes a victim of hostility,

  By granting him the victim's legibility,
/>   You absolve him of any culpability,

  You have increased his audibility.

  It really is a sorry state with our far right and far left,

  Because neither side is actually acting deft,

  As bigotry blinds them from bereft,

  It is each other they heft.

  > It is only a matter of time?

  > Until the far right answers in kind?

  > And reveals reporter home addresses online.

  Golden Showers

  Someone on the chan boards has claimed credit,

  And that is unsurprisingly all it takes to discredit,

  Whatever was previously pushed out by the media,

  As their mistakes already fill an entire encyclopedia.

  And if you ask me; Trump can sleep in tubs of uremia,

  It is not that odd if you recall one victim of ophidia,

  Perhaps some are now furiously typing a new edit,

  But it is too late, this nonsense is their only credit.

  'Hate speech'

  Few days yet ago another man was put on a trial,

  For a reason as nonsensical as it is vile,

  Because some words might rile,

  There is a need for a spile,

  So pretentious twats could smile,

  Abuse power just for a moment while,

  Before they are pushed aside by the electoral dial.

  Huge headlines about tears shed before the court,

  A lurid example of how they comport,

  Without a single thought to abort,

  They think winning a sport,

  With attempts to distort,

  To deny any support,

  When their report,

  Fell ever so short.

  It is the same song,

  And the tune isn't wrong?

  There are so many things to loathe,

  But I simply cannot stand the stains on your clothe.

  Final Fantasy XV

  She bought a video game,

  I mocked it a boy band simulator,

  She lacked the time to tame,

  And it was left behind to be finished later,

  Thus as I stare at boredom's flame,

  And I cannot give it a spin out of being a hater,

  Perhaps you might consider it a shame,

  But I will stand behind this conviction far greater,

  Because liking it would make me quite lame,

  I would rather stick my head into a maw of an alligator,

  Than admit ever playing it to my dearest dame.

  Cunt

  > To me it is a word kindergarten kids shout to one and the other?

  While some say it is the most offensive word in the English language,

  And that fact grants me an opportunity rather sanguine,

  One I cannot help but to take advantage.

  So?

  I find you a colossal cunt,

  And you might think me blunt,

  For tossing out such a verbal stunt,

  And your anger might be beyond shunt,

  Blowing full steam while ready to confront,

  For daring to use that word