"helsinki" poems
While I don't suffer, or suffer from
Normal, eurocentrism, northern malaise,
Nor, academia, a blood disease,
I do mind manners in which doings
And not doings are done or aren't,
As it brings life and light to them,
Or it doesn't, for those most attached
To living or dying are most closely death.
This while acid rain from your closed eye
And an acre of rainforest falls each second.
Thus Earth's tears bleed for all you see is gray.
As machinations of travailing winds,
Miraging, veil, mirror narcissistic nihlistic
False-ego as self, do "..we(e),.." evince to be?
A republican chides, "put another poet
On the barbie", his idea of conservation.
Prump has had his exec. branch criminally:
Edit the official video and script of his
Helsinki news conference where tutin was asked,
"Did you help prump become president and did you
Have your gov't do the same", with tutin's answers,
"Yes I did, yes, I did..." + premeditatedly separate
Latino families at the border to torture them,
Dictate that "if they want to see their kids again
They have to sign away their rights and leave".
He just said, "don't believe what you hear, see",
Almost a quote from Orwell's '1984', in which
Is written, "this dictate of the gov't was most
Important of all, don't believe what your ears
Hear or your eyes see". Since altright universe
Invaders were installed in the Blackhouse we've
Known things will only get worse, what other
Reason could his "military parade in 11-18" be for
Except military rule, will the American daymare end?
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 7:13 AM UTC
Welcome Back To This, Your Isle
The rabbits beneath the deck,
Even the pesky deer who eat the shrubbery,
Sea creatures, living and spirits of the dead,
Lying on the paths and in the creeks of Silver Beach,
All inquire:
Was it better wherever you went?
Were the:
Bears, hiding in the forests outside Berlin,
Eagles, double headed, of Russia
Herring, fried, creamed, wined,
From the vendors on the docks of
Helsinki, Riga, Visby and Tallinn,
Salmon, smoked and cured in Stockholm,
More impressive,
Tastier than our striped bass,
Island cohorts of yours, who waited patiently
For their chronicler to return?
Did the Little Mermaid and her Dolphin
Guardians of the Port of Copenhagen
Welcome you more warmly than your friends,
The ospreys, lizards, turtles and owls
Who overwatch your steps and safety
When hiking in Mashomack Preserve?
Are the interlacing tidal creeks,
Woodlands, fields, salt marshes and the ragged,
Irregular but charmed coastline of this cherished island
Any lesser than those of Scandinavia?
Are the sea-going ferries that transverse the
Baltic Sea and the Gulf of Finland,
More poetic than the Menantic or the Lt. Joe,
Who carry you swiftly home to us?
The National Geographic people say that in
Tivoli Gardens, The Amerikaner (ha!) waffle ice cream cone
Is one of the ten best in the world.
Guessing they have not made it yet to the
Tuck Shop for some Moose Tracks!
Were you unaware that our isle settled before
Peter the Great ever envisioned creating the grand
Boulevards of his capitol, St. Petersburg,
Route 114 was a traveled forest path,
By settlers and Indians, not serfs.
Of the Treasures, the Gold Room of the Hermitage,
The Amber Room of Catherine's Palace,
Wrote not a single word, we observe.
Your attentions, they did not deserve?
The answers all, self evident.
Here, surrounded by the gentle breezes of
Long Island Sound and Gardiners Bay,
Sweet and salty flavors of the Peconic atmosphere,
Words unlocked, from your eyes to the page fall,
Smudged by joyous tears, for the muses of the island
Have embraced you yet again and rebirthed
Inspiration, within their comforting, sheltering grasp.
Silver Beach
July 22, 2012
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
two leaders once met in Helsinki
for talks that looked somewhat *****
as it turns out
still nobody knows
what they were talking about
and that indeed smells rather stinky
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 4:29 PM UTC
Boston Sydney Oslo London Berlin Montreal Ibiza Stockholm Lisbon Dublin....where are you?..Chicago Madrid Turin Liverpool....I need you home!....Tokyo India Rio Helsinki Milan Botswana....please come home....Gibraltar Alice Springs Zurich Tel Aviv St Helier Jerusalem....I really miss you x
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 7:50 AM UTC
A is for Athens
B is for Berlin
C is for Cairo
D is for Dublin
E is for Edinburgh
F is for Fukishima
G is for Guangzhou
H is for Helsinki
I is for İstanbul
J is for Johannesburg
K is for Kiev
L is for London
M is for Madrid
N is for New York
O is for Oslo
P is for Paris
Q is for Quito
R is for Riga
S is for Shanghai
T is for Tokyo
U is for Ulan Bator
V is for Vancouver
W is for Washington
X is for Xianyang
Y is for Yerevan
Z is for Zagreb
Travel the world
see these places
meet new people
make new friends
take photos
make memories
always be happy
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 7:29 PM UTC
and now you're singing karaoke... so ha ha and Kyoto.
and this is the part where i tell you i love you?
it sounds like it's the part where i **** your dog off
and laugh; or maybe that's the part where
i say i'm scooch-peppery-ish!
tangy! mm hmm!
solid gold worth's an advert! aha,
Elvis just rolled up his sleeves!
while Shoon can-can the worthy,
sire nigh nigh the knighted made
speeches at a royal funeral that made 20 kings
abdicate, we all thought of Monaco
and Senna... lipstick Helsinki...
crisscross Albania and: Waterloo...
when Napoleon sniffed glue... oh Waterloo!
i too built Stockholm in a day, based on
the pop culture of Europe casually so.
but indeed Sean, the flowery basin of all
that's Essex, Sussex and Kent,
i.e. Scottish, show... i'm ashoored it'sh
Shcandinavian cartoon or at least halfwit Belgian
with the moustache, dumb-flicked Hercules Poirot...
authored by a nagging Agatha Christensen.
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 11:34 PM UTC
The sea lies solid under ice,
The blizzard seldom stops;
The glögi's running freely
In friendly coffee-shops;
The trams still run and life goes on
And still I can't remember
Why no-one ever calls a song
"Helsinki in November".
May 22, 2010
May 22, 2010 at 9:11 PM UTC
In June of 1989, 14 poets, all alumni of Columbia University, took a trip to Moscow. I was one of them. We flew from New York City to Moscow via Helsinki, Finland. We met with the editors of NOVY MIR (NEW WORLD), the most famous literary magazine in the Soviet Union, which broke up in 1991.We all gathered around a large oak table mixing Americans with Russians. We began reading only one poem each. When each Russian recited his poem, he stood up. I was impressed. Each Russian poet spoke perfect English. Eventually, it became my turn. I recited I WRITE WHEN THE RIVER'S DOWN. When I had finished reading, I went around the long oak table and handed each Russian poet a copy of my poem. I had made many copies of my poem in Topeka, KS, my hometown. Copy machines were illegal in the Soviet Union for fear that dissident, underground revolutionaries might wish to spread their fervent hopes of democratizing their nation to millions of their fellow citizens.
The next day, we 14 Americans were going to attend a meeting of the Moscow Chapter of the Soviet Writers Union. As I was getting out of our bus and stepping on the sidewalk, I heard a voice crying, "Mr. Hawks, Mr. Hawks! Please stop. I have something for you." As I looked to my left, I recognized a Russian gentleman from the day before. When he reached me, he said "I am Evgeny Chramov. You gave all of us a copy of your beautiful poem. I was so taken by it, I stayed up all night translating it into Russian. I had to type it again, so if I saw you today, I would be able to give you my translated copy." He put his briefcase on the sidewalk, opened it, and pulled out his Russian translation, and handed it to me. I was stunned. I said "Mr. Chramov, how thoughtful and generous of you to stay up all night translating my poem into Russian! Bless you, Mr. Chramov." As we were walking together into the building, I stopped and spoke to my new friend. "Mr. Chramov, I have a favor to ask of you. Would you be willing to read your translation of my poem in this meeting?
"Of course! I'd be honored to do that," said Mr. Chramov. When it came time for him to read, Mr. Chramov, standing up, read his translation of my poem. I was elated. The meeting soon came to a close. A woman who had chaired the meeting walked by me without stopping and said to me, again in perfect English, "You really are a poet, aren't you?"
Her comment, and Mr. Chramov's responses,, I have never forgotten.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Jun 19, 2025
Jun 19, 2025 at 9:55 PM UTC
She isn't beautiful,
She's the glint on dew
The sparkle on a star
The new shine on a just waxed car,
Too little too few
Are my words dutiful
To describe
This beauty exponential
Her smile's vibe,
New world order potential,
Brain to the Pinky
Her body's curves so slinky,
Twists and turns
Are jealous
How she burns
Into retinas
The sultriest of patinas,
More overzealous
Than the sun
Smoking hotter than a gun,
At least she will never expire
Like the Hostess *******
I'm burning from her fire,
Can feel it all the way to Helsinki...
© okpoet
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 3:39 PM UTC
Crystal azure beads
of collective DNA,
she wrapped herself
in trademark-mink
& dwelled in Helsinki
doing the Bond-thing.
She hugged the circle
with Velcro-fingers,
stood larch-tall, singing
a frozen siren's song
under the midnight sun.
And beneath her cold exterior,
was the warmth
of a million fireballs.
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 11:26 PM UTC
Swimming in brackish waters off of Helsinki thinking
These waves are very high and very frequent I felt ****
(I hoped it was **** brush at my feet then something rough
Scraped against my thigh as my breast stroke failed
To keep my head held high and slightly salty water went
Into my mouth and across my eyes and I stopped
Treading water long enough to rush one hand over my face to clear
Things up and kept telling myself as I swam further out no
There's no sharks in the Baltic what you felt
Must've been **** or a rock and even
This far away a thing
Can touch you
And you're never really sure
What it is
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 6:14 PM UTC
The Escape
When Rudolph the red nosed reindeer wanted to
Be normal and join the flock on earth, Santa got depressed
Sat by many of Finland’s lakes contemplating his life
He too was tired of flying through the air and gets a cold
He wanted sunlight and a sandy beach.
He got hold of a tame water buffalo and an unemployed
Drunk from Helsinki and for a while they got away with it
Till an elf with a grudge told a newspaper about it and children too
Had long wondered why Rudolph had two horn, not antler and why
Santa was late, swore and kept falling off his sledge.
Santa had to come back from Thailand and sort out this corruption
He told twitter he was sorry, but fired blabber mouthed elf.
He had to look for sober man to act as Santa and train a new reindeer,
Because Rudolph and had got the taste of the high life.
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 5:24 AM UTC
Chill baby, it's the all acoustic set. Going home for the holidays.
A few laughs with Pops,
And never mind the drumsticks, her comes the *******
Here comes weeping
In a Shiite village,
400 dead in Sadr City,
And pass me the yams.
Did you see that interception?
Here comes the 3rd and long.
Here the sun falls away
In the twilight of winter.
I dream the Electro Light Fantastic. I'll see ghosts in
The mirror when I'm dreaming. None the wiser,
I saw it in fits and starts.
Better than waking on
New Year's morning in jail with the crazy lady 2 cells over yelling for a cigarette
Every twenty minutes
" Officer, can I have a cigarette?" I want to tell her
To shut up, Instead I ask
Her to get me one too.
And then I knew it's all come round.
Young and Stupid reporting for duty.
Not that it's my rag mag
Sad rag, nothing doing while
I try these new wings on for size. Its just the all acoustic set in a world of static.
Hazy cigarette voices
In trebelo. Though I threw
It out with the cookbook,
I have it all hanging on my sleeve. I thought it was all the rage. Later I found it was
Taxing on my soul.
This all acoustic set, away from the city lights and cyberspace. Left to one's devices, one sinks further into the page. What do you
Expect when candlelight
Falls across the flickering wall?
Two league below, a U Boat
Swims the Atlantic, Lost
In possibilities. Some mind
When I'm tongue tied like a lizard.
Kinda brings up Helsinki,
And she comes in all bells
And whistles. Me, I'm
All acoustic, something like a blank face, Low on cash
And overdrawn on character.
And the sun lights before
Columbus dragging up the rear. Man these ghosts
Linger in the hallway,
But it's better than crashing
The car into the statue
One Thanksgiving Eve.
The all acoustic set says
Death is a bore, Especially
After the ride in From France
I gave up meat some time ago, I gave up on you after
I got to the moon.
Well, it gets me out of the sun awhile. We'll get better when
The world catches up.
Sorry I changed the end around, but I thought it
Was the only out of Knoxville
Never mind The sage gravy,
I've got to tighten the lug nuts. A tither, but nothing on the rent.
And Hitchcock does the math,
While I corkscrew around the truth. While others weep
I dream of women laying in the sun. I guess it's better than ice cream in the rai n.
Who said pumpkin pie?
Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 10:14 PM UTC
The bi-headed bi-polar global axi of supposed power,
The remocrat, capitalist totalitarian/notsee one,
The united **** of assassins, and the notsee/totalitarian
Extreme capitalist communist/socialist one, the Russian
Cleptocracy ('cause, if you want to double your pleasure,
Double your fun, you have two, two anti-christs in one),
Attempting to determine no one can even perceive
The possibility of being non: materialists, humancentric,
Criminally insane, are having a tete en tete in Helsinki
Tommorow, where our king-sized terrible-two, Prump,
"...Will ask Tutin if he meddled in our election...",
"...He's not expecting a Perry Mason...", Tutin to confess,
"...But he'll ask...". This, after a year and a half of
Prump's making believe "...Tutin may have not done it...",
And over 2 years after our intelligence community definitely
Knew about it, way to go first responders. They'll probably
Meet totally alone again, no cameras, and the only way we'll
Be able to dicipher how it went is from telltale signs like
Smeared lipstick, and others from the press, the Russian
Press that is, 'cause ours won't get a word from Prump on it,
Like the last time they met alone. Later, I think he falsely
Projected that "...they just talked about...", the purchasing
Of Russian (white) kids, "...adoption...", for an hour.
C'est la unvie, no? When's Mueller going to be done,
Before or after Trumpler's visible coup steals the midterms?
If you didn't vote for Hillary, you voted for Prump/Tutin.
"...We(e),..." must protect the vote, vote early, GOTV,
And protect the results more than ever, before the country
Gets used to being drunk on democracy's backslider's wine.
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 3:58 AM UTC
There's a word in Finnish
To describe an intetion
That could be translated
Only by using a combination
Of several English words.
"Sisu" means to endure,
To presevere, to be dauntless
And infernally stubborn.
As I sit in this modern train
Feeling the rails below me,
I watch the snow
That gives everything around me
A softly curving silhouette.
The cold bites in to my lips
Yet it is compassionate
In its dryness
And never cuts me to the bone.
I listen to the language
That gave my mouth
It's sharp edges
And it's gentle caress.
As I stroll around
These streets that were build
By the bare broken hands
Of our suppressed forefathers,
I come to sense
It's deepest truth of who they were.
Our fathers build houses of wood
And cut railways in to solid granite.
These men and women
Build homes that could go up in flames
And infrastructures that could last generations.
We have always worked for the future.
I think of my brother's words...
didn't you memorize the land marks?
I did... and I realise
That in this country we survive
On our memory of how to get back home.
If you lose your way, you die.
If you get cold, you die.
But maybe what these
Children that were born and raised
Under the watchful eye of Sisu
Need to come to understand
That we are no longer
Fighting to survive...
We are fighting to allow
The warmth of our hearts
Come out through our lips
And become visible
Even to those who no longer believe
That we posess such heat.
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 3:42 PM UTC
one day
i might just disappear
its crystal, transparent, clear
nothing lasts forever here
seasons change like a light switch
days fleeting, s p r e a d i n g out their wings
i wont answer my telephone for weeks
i'm scared to talk to people
vulnerability makes me weak.
missing people are never truly gone
they've got to be somewhere
paris, berlin, helsinki, oslo, nouakchott
san francisco, caracas, mexico city
dead, deep in the ground
alive, mentally sound
fossilising.
one day, i might be free
every day is a dream when
nothing feels quite real
Apr 22, 2025
Apr 22, 2025 at 11:54 AM UTC
.you're using all the right words, for all the wrong reasons.
the milkman comes round my house
prior to 3 a.m.:
so who's knocking on the door?
Xanadu?
I can't write like this...
this yogurt,
this bogus...
whoever they are,
let them keep their *******
******
B.b.c.
the broadcaster bankcrupcy
Currency...
sell it Hong Helsinki Kong...
even at this point,
the canvas still remains
○ ● □ ■... deviant poker....
you have th3 affairs in motion,
now watch me give a ****
future is yours, Mongol,
my women have up...
**** em' ...
they don't need me?
I don't need them!
what isn't borrowed isn't
lent.
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 7:16 PM UTC
A Finn, who lived in Helsinki,
Had feet that were terribly stinki.
What made his wife stay
(The neighbors all say)
Was weakness for *** that was kinki.
Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 10:38 PM UTC
LondonParisNewYorkToronto
BristolManchesterBrightonOxford
Helsinki Casablanca.
The salubrious docks in the east
Prevailing westerlies pushing clouds to the crowds
All blue collar no trousers
Hot air
The eastward drift
a spiralling pattern of deprivation
Emerging from a grubby core
Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 11:55 AM UTC
-on that fatal day in Helsinki
It hurts the eye to watch a big star crumble,
not the man but the thing that should make him humble:
the honour to represent his country's prudent heart
- all washed away in ambitious fumble.
Ambition is a strange disease,
it slowly eats the brain, to please
the inner void's persistent hunger
- this hidden pain will never cease.
Don't blame a sick and hollow man
whose fever will bring him down again.
Let's pick a common guy with common sense
- 2020 is our time, o yes, we can.
Apr 11, 2019
Apr 11, 2019 at 4:54 PM UTC
Alguna vez en palma de mallorca
hallé en el borne dos filas de árboles
como las que hubo en un recodo
del viejo parque urbano
en la habana otra vez
pensé que el malecón
era como la rambla
en santa cruz de tenerife
hay una larga franja
como la de pocitos
la gente que camina en las calles de atenas
se asemeja a la nuestra
sólo que al mediodía
en helsinki si escucho cómo hablan
me parece lunfardopero nunca lo entiendo
el cielo de la noche blanca de leningrado
me recuerda mi cieloen tardes de tormenta
en buenos aires hay un barrio
flores
que puede confundirse con la aguada
el rastro madrileño
es una feria de tristán narvaja
sólo que gigantesca
ahora por fin
están aquí a mi alcance
parque rambla idioma firmamento
recodos calle feria esquinas
ya no preciso referencias
357
By: Cedric McClester
Well, I’ll be ******
Trump and Putin are a sham
Perpetrating a flim-flam
They just shot Uncle Sam!
In Helsinki with a battering ram
Is it necessary to draw a diagram?
In order for you to understand
That all of it must have been preplanned
They met in private
With no notetakers
Under the guise of peacemakers
Just like your average lawbreakers
Doing their best to throw haymakers
See neither one of them are Quakers
But they’re con men outright fakers
Playing ball like the new Lakers
I blame the one,
But not the both
Cuz Putin didn’t swear an oath
He wants to stymie our growth
And Trump’s playing with half a loaf
For his base which he betroth
But which of them hates us the most
It’s hard to say, yet he’ll still boast
He doesn’t care about us
So he’s betrayed his sacred trust
In order to do what he must
To protect himself and to adjust
Even if we all go bust
Making America how he discussed
Despite the economy being robust
He’s unworthy of our trust
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2018. All rights reserved.
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 12:41 PM UTC
Helsinki harbor, but just a few hours cherry blossom trees, Thai orchid flowers
La Florida sun - power thundershowers ...
spacetime
Jul 27, 2019
Jul 27, 2019 at 2:36 PM UTC