Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Health
The Inland Revenue letter Dear Mr Hobbo, Here is your pension, on receipt of which it is timely to mention, the rules that forbid you a normal sex life, when according to info received from your wife, you are still fairly active, which as you can see, is clearly forbidden in para. three C. Now you've retired please accept at your age that there is no employment, even minimum wage. So put up your feet, and turn on the TV, savour your cocoa, between you and me, I am jealous to bits, and holding back tears, because I've still to work for the next forty years.
Here we go again You used to talk to me, and bring me flowers. You would listen. We'd make love for hours. Hours, who you kidding. I could soft boil the eggs. It's a bit of a turn-off, fat hairy legs. How can you talk, with all that up your nose. It helps hide the stink of the smoke on your clothes. What bloody cheek, you smell like the cat. You moody old mare, you vicious old bat. Listen at old Mr Grumpy himself. Cheeky sod, go take a look at yourself. Well, another love filled end to the year. Oops I forgot. Happy Anniversary, my dear.
End of life care She was ninety two, paralysed and incontinent. Communicated by blinking her wish to expire. She died alone, gasping and in agony, when a God she no longer believed in decided she could. He was very old, way past his prime. Lost his zest for life. No quality of life. Surrounded by loved ones, he was put to sleep with dignity, peacefully, painlessly, by the vet.
Royal Marriages I've been married for fourty four years, And I don't go a bothering you. Stay out of the media then, my dears, It's the least little thing you can do.
The Yorksher Blues My rhubarb won't grow, it's the wrong kind of soil. My moped is slow, and my car's leaking oil. My snake ate my cake, so now she can't coil. My new metal kettle, has melted, won't boil. I'm bluer than my tattoos, I've got me those Yorksher blues. My dog's chewed my clogs, and he's spewed on the floor. My cat's run away with the tomcat next door. My sister's a mister, whose wife is a whore. I'm a medical miracle close to death's door. I'm bluer than my tattoos, I've got me those Yorksher blues. My missus insists, she won't leave, don't ask why? I know that her beau is a really nice guy. I have seen, she is keen, and I can't tell a lie, Just leave me alone, in my home, and I'll die. I'm bluer than my tattoos, I've got me those Yorksher blues.
A timekeeping bargain A pain in the crotch Life, where does it go? With our time travel watch You can go fast, or slow. Set it to your own pace, Even temporary stop. The deluxe, will retrace, So your clogs never pop.
The morning after A pass at the glass, and I know I'm in trouble. Red road maps my eyes, out of focus as Hubble. I can't raise a grin, scratchy skin full of stubble. Last night, it felt right. It was hell of a party. Six shots on the trot, tried to prove me a smarty. I should have said no, but I had to have doubles, To drink like a fish, with a fistful of bubbles. This morning, I'm yawning, but I've work in an hour. Heads a shed, feet like lead, as I crawl in the shower. Whisky breath, I am death, with a tongue tasting sour. Soap, does its work, as I splash it all over. Can't face any food, but I'll beat this hangover. Laughter, day after? No, I'm dull, done for, dour No great loss. I'm the boss. I'm the guy with the power.
Life Transient as a wet tyre track on sunwarmed tarmac. Fleeting as the first snow of winter. Evanescent as electricity in a battery. Transitory as the twin towers. Ephemeral as early morning dew. Short lived as a shooting star. Cursory as a nod from a stranger. Invaluable as a Picasso painting. Dear as a diamond anniversary. Inestimable as insects on earth. Precious as your new born baby. We have only one and it melts in the sun.
The Nurse Her frail body clutched at the crisp cotton sheets. I mopped her brow. Her lungs gasped, fighting for air. Her tiny hand squeezed mine as I bent down to hear what she said. Don't let me die, nurse, she whispered. The ventilator was ineffective. The drugs were not working. I gave her all that I had. I gave her my love. It was not enough.
Old age pensioner Today, I get O.A.P status A tribute to my apparatus. It's downhill from here, After sixty six year, My hernia is at a hiatus.
Loyalty Grocer Jack In cul-de-sac Head full of smack Tripped on a crack On his way back From the 'Duck with no Quack'. This maniac Was taken aback Fell with a whack Causing crise cardiaque. Revived with a snack And a double cognac From a girl in a sack Whose dad was named Jack.
These Hands These hands have deprived a man of his liberty, yet saved a babies life. These hands helped to drown my troubles but put food on the family table. These hands buried my parents and held my new born son. These hands inspired loyalty yet betrayed a trust. These hands committed sin then prayed for forgiveness. These hands fought for my life and made sweet love. These hands have written eulogies but created poetry. These hands are human. They make mistakes, But they are my hands.
You were a tender lover You were a tender lover, Attentive, thoughtful, kind. Why would I want another? The last thing on my mind. It was a whirlwind romance, Two short months, then wed. Didn't really get the chance To hear what others said. Then, the violence started, Subtle, but my fault. Should've left, departed, Called a stop, a halt. You hit me, yet you love me, Well how perverse is that? You're jealous of the fellers I see behind your back. It's only drink that's talking, Makes you resort to force. Why then, are you stalking, If you don't want divorce. The sorry that comes after, The crappy bunch of flowers. You shrug it off with laughter, And say that love is ours. Tonight, another beating, Broken bones and worse But, it's my fault for cheating, "Say nothing to the nurse." In 'A and E', I'm treated, I tripped, fell down the stairs. Behind the lies retreated, From their suspicious stares. Cops try to prosecute you And I refuse to press. Off we go, the loving two, To more cheap flowers, I guess. You crossed a line this evening, One last, one final time, As the ambulance is leaving, I gasp, arrest, flat-line. I hit you, cos I love you Didn't mean to use the knife Now, you've gone and ruined My sad, self-centred life.
My Engine
When I was younger
I'd go for a spin.
So great was my hunger,
I'd drive to Berlin.
As I got older,
Hand on my heart,
The engine was colder,
I'd need a bump start.
The motor got mucky,
First starts, then it stops.
Sometimes I'd be lucky
To get to the shops.
Now, seized and rusty,
Where once it all shone,
My tried and my trusty
Has got up and gone.
Equality
The king is dead, long live the king
So those heraldic angels sing.
Here lies he, in princely state,
Mortal man, to whom his fate,
Death that leveler of us all,
Cares not for goods, for wherewithal.
No difference makes, for rank, or status.
Keeps for each, this forced hiatus.
What use now those jewels, that wealth?
Lost is that youth, that life, that health.
Our time is precious, borrowed must
Be handed over. We to dust.
The Medical There's snow on the hills And I've taken my pills. The psychiatrist thinks me quite sane. The pigs in the sky, Yes I know they can't fly, But they're taking a test just the same. The voice in my head That is never quite dead, Is singing a sad kind of ditty. I try to write songs Yet they come out all wrong, All clangers and smash, more's the pity. I've got an IQ Of a hundred and two, Which puts me, ahead of a half-wit. I'm friends with the Queen And my washing machine, But give me a dollar, I'd halve it. I live on the moon With an ageing baboon Who is wanted in five different countries. My favourite meal Is strawberry peel Which I harvest each autumn from plum trees. The doc's here again. She insists, I am sane. She has the last laugh, no disputing. The stupid old lush, I'm as daft as a brush. Speak to my grandma, Rasputin. Tick-Tock, round the clock, I need a new frock. Tear drop, splobalop, I am barmy. Boogaloo bongos, Dingos and drongos, I don't want to play in your army.
Bones These bones of mine Are bone idle. They never move a muscle. I get on fine With nerves, I find But they're a real opuscle. I could fall out, Say bones, get out Get veritably stroppy. But I suppose Without them bones, I'd be a body floppy.
Hairdressing My lockdown locks are really, truly Wild, disheveled, long, unruly. Scruffy, fluffy, dizzy, frizzy, In the way when I am busy. Hairdressing, classed non-essential, Even Barnets presidential Are growing, flowing, running wild, Awkward as a naughty child. What I'd give to have it cut Smart again, so I could strut Down the high street, head held high, Bien coiffé, a butterfly. Bien coiffé, well groomed hair Barnet, UK slang for hair
It's not enough To hope that we are more tolerant than our parents. Ce n'est pas assez Do it today. To hope that the planet will not succumb to global warming. Ce n'est pas assez Do it today. To hope that justice will be done. Ce n'est pas assez Do it today. To hope for a brighter future. Ce n'est pas assez Do it today. To hope that anything will change. Ce n'est pas assez Do it today.
Hell's Kitchen Beelzebub, the Devil Searched for souls to roast he put them in his Breville And cooked beings on toast.
Another Lockdown Ditty It's hard to be inspired Whilst we're in lockdown mode I'm getting rather tired Of treading that same road. But when lockdown is over There'll be no stopping me Like a honeybee in clover I'll have so much to see.
The Pharmacy Queued for an hour Quite in distress Needing my tablets To help me de-stress. Along comes an addict For Methadone say Knocks at a side door Is seen straight away. Now if I were a chemist Between me and you Other people come first And the junkies could queue.
Priceless Do you borrow money, or are you a lender Are you a hoarder, or a flashy big spender Save it, or crave it, spend the lot on a bender Blow all on a posh frock, regardless of gender? Are you living in poverty, scraping away Trying your best to survive on just one meal a day Or, like Midas, does all that is gold come your way And, rich as Croesus, is it nothing but play? Is money your God, do you pray at its altar Do you value friends, or is this where you falter Your be all, and end all, your reason for being If something is missing, what are you not seeing? Yes it's love, it is love, it's what makes the world spin And when you are in love, then it should be win-win There is no substitute for the love in your life Be it children or lovers (or even your wife)!
Heartbeats Two billion each lub-dub, lub-dub From cradle to grave lub-dub, lub-dub Tender as peach lub-dub, lub-dub Worn as a cave lub-dub, lub-dub You've stolen mine lub-dub, lub-dub Broken in two lub-dub, lub-dub Sad celandine lub-dub, lub-dub My final tattoo lub--------
Things to do lists His, during covid lockdown 1. Shave 2. Shower 3. Fed 4. Watch telly 5. Bed Hers, during covid lockdown 1. Clean 2. Cook 3. Wash 4. Shop 5. Vac 6. Dust 7. Iron 8. Drop His, after covid lockdown 1. Get shave 2. Get shower 3. Get fed 4. Watch telly 5. Go to bed Hers, after covid lockdown 1. Buy a season ticket, can they survive the drop? 2. Jimmy Choo's size seven, from that designer shop. 3. Book foreign holiday, in Italy or Spain. 4. Ring up Bob the Builder, to fix that window pane. 5. Meet my friends for coffee, a catch-up, and a chat. 6. Renew my gym subscription, got to lose this fat. 7. Take my mother shopping, but must be M and S. 8. Judy could come with us, and pick herself a dress. 9. New nail bar in Blackburn, it's doing two for one. 10. While I'm being pampered, I'll have my Barnet done. 11. Join local theatre group, for social intercourse. 12. Tell my useless husband, I'm filing for divorce. M and S, Marks and Spencers, a UK shop Barnet, cockney rhyming slang for hair.
Be careful what you wish for 2020 Brexit hogs the headlines Brexit every day Brexit with it's deadlines Please make it go away. 2021 Covid's killed so many Randomly it slew What I'd give for any Piece of Brexit news.
Membership She joined the ramblers club A group for gentle walking Mistakenly believing They met, for non stop talking.
My sensitive senses I have five senses So I'm told Which function less As I grow old. I'm deaf without my Hearing aids And use thick specs As sight degrades. My taste relies on My false teeth. For touch, my skull has things beneath. These stop me shaking Which leaves smell Best ask my wife She's sure to tell.
Peg leg Pete Of my two legs I've but one good un', The other peg Is false, it's wooden. Comparison If I'd to choose The artificial Holds more booze. In Winter time It's good as gold Come frost or rime It's never cold. I see a brawl I'm off, I hop it So, all in all I wouldn't swap it.
Just do it You are as unique as a flake of snow though equally ethereal. Live now fully, quickly before that melt-water. Not tomorrow it may not arrive. Today do it make that metaphorical skydive.
Coincidence or Consequence Fat woman orders super-sized meal. Coincidence or consequence? Drug addict sleeps on park bench. Coincidence or consequence? Lottery winner desperately lonely. Coincidence or consequence? Child abuser raped in jail. Coincidence or consequence? Workaholic dies at desk. Coincidence or consequence? Politicians not trusted. Coincidence or consequence? Non judgmental people live happier lives. Coincidence or consequence?
Transient as a train timetable Babies have potential Though don't yet know their fate And adults are but children Beyond their best by date. We look into the future Yet dwell upon the past But life is here, right now And it's not meant to last.
Winning the lottery I'm more than delighted Extremely excited Shout it out? No, I could yelp it! I am over the moon And I shouldn't croon Honestly, I can not help it. I can now break the rules It's like winning the pools Buying myself a home brew kit. I am king of the hill I'm top of the bill I really am going to milk it. Christmas and birthday Rolled up into one day Lucky! I can not believe it! The call said, get there They had vaccine to spare I've beaten that Covid, achieved it!
The best diet ever Revolutionary guillotine diet One hundred percent verify it Is sure to delight Will cut appetite Cause instant weight loss With no need to floss A rip off, it ain't Not a single complaint.
An Elegy Here fly the ashes of Hobbo the Poet. Life's clock had stopped before he could slow it. Elegy written in case he got ill. Nothing to leave you don't look for a will.
Friday night fatality Blue lights. Fist fights. Fast cars. Packed bars. Shrill two-tones Broken bones. Thunderstorms. Uniforms. Emergencies to A and E. Bare flesh teaser. Pavement pizza. Takeaway smells good. Busted nose spits blood. Glance wrong, teenage spat. What you's looking at? Vicious looking flick knifes. Liberated housewives. Atmosphere electric. Not again, she's been sick. Need a leak, take a piss. All week, work for this. Feel ill, too much drink. Bog full, piss in sink. Cops here, take names. Stiff them, play games. Now feeling ill. I pop a pill. Final sup. All fucked up. Thumping head. Some guys dead. All flee Scot-free Shit's sake It's me...
This is not a rehearsal The grazing cow, the harvest mouse Fear not, the blood red slaughterhouse. When first a dog looks on your face She looks for love, not creed or race. The giant crab or basking skate They worry not about their fate. Foresight, it's the curse of man To know that there's no master plan. This fear of life, to us unique Curtails our dreams and makes us weak. Ephemeral as our beans on toast Shed those shackles, lay that ghost.
Excuse Me! Natural, but unsociable are those ill-disciplined enough to think acceptable to let loose their trapped wind.
Our cunning plan No procrastination! Even if you disagree Please get your vaccination For we have no great 'plan B'.
Bloodlines My old man is lying here I visit him, but once a year Twenty years this blokes been dead And still he's messing with my head. Parents nurturing and kind for me a joke, they screw your mind I'm not like them,and God forbid That I should ever hurt the kids. Am I any better though? Ask my boys, for I don't know.
The Exemption Certificate This is to certify that the holder of this certificate is exempt from Work related exertions; manual or retail or office bound with email. Worry; health, wealth, finance family or romance. Possessions; financial or property snubs to abject poverty. Physical activities; Everything in real life Anything but still life. I further certify that the owner of this certificate is dead. Evan Chewly
You're having a laugh! A problem, I had I was losing my grip Visit the toilet Then, permanent drip, You're having a laugh! Come on, don't deny it. Urologist grinned Just try it, just try it. When you are finished before you re-dress Reach behind goolies Between your legs, press. It works every time Don't know why, don't know how And who really cares? I've got dry undies, now!
Hidden abuse
calculating
abhorrent
guilty
manipulative
paedophile
scarred
betrayed
traumatised
ashamed
marginalised
children
Golden? The silence of a life cut short tragically, too brief. The silence of a bereaved mum overwhelmed with grief. The silence of the couple lost in their own thoughts. The silent tear she sheds when he asks for divorce. The silent look of horror before that bomb explodes. The silent sign she gives as she steps into the road. Those silent games they played that went beyond pretend. This silence is forever no beginning and no end.
Who are you? Do you see the brilliance of the diamond or notice the dust on the skirting board? Do you hear the birds singing in the trees or the harassed woman screaming at her kids? Do you taste the rounded flavour of the wine or the bitter tannins in the alcohol beneath? Do you touch the ones you love, with tenderness or hit out at those who hurt you? Do you smell the fresh cut grass on a spring lawn or the odour of dogs who have made their presence known? Do you view the countryside in all its glory or see the litter thrown thoughtlessly away? Do you hear a choir of angels in the morning or joints complaining as you cry yourself to sleep? Do you taste the lightness of the pastry or does the sour taste of failure haunt your mouth? Do you touch each moment with a thank you or do you feel that hand of fickle fate? Do you smell the flowers in your garden or the scent of time that's passed you by? Do you love life what'er the situation or suffer life and take your medication?
May affect less than 1 in 10 Eye pain or rainbow vision! Intermittent, blurring vision! Yellow eyes or yellow skin! Constipation! Vomiting! Drowsiness and sleepiness! Dizzyness or shakiness! Trouble with my flexion! Problems with erection! Weight loss! Weight gain! Blocked nose and bladder pain! Difficulties sleeping! Changes in my speaking! Hair loss! Milk loss! Telling folk to get lost! Tinnitus! Convulsions! Rashes or confusion! Numbness! Tingling! Fear of social mingling! Sensitive to sunlight! Wet bed! Is that right? Such a wide variety Has brought on my anxiety! Prescribed me by my doc These pills leave me in shock!
Who's afraid of the big bad wolf? Cowardly killer, dubbed number nineteen Despicable, your sick form of roulette Mindless bug, reaping death, obscene. We'll wash our hands,we'll fight you clean Whilst there is hope, we are not beaten yet Cowardly killer, dubbed number nineteen. So many bodies, it's almost routine Shadowy form, with no silhouette Mindless bug, reaping death, obscene. Perverted agenda, to kill human beings Fresh strains now to aid and abet Cowardly killer, dubbed number nineteen. Locked down again, stuck, quarantine Not beaten though, you're a martinet Mindless bug, reaping death, obscene. We'll whup your arse with the new vaccine What use then, is your global threat Cowardly killer, dubbed number nineteen Mindless bug, reaping death, obscene.
Gerry Marsden, how did you do it? His ferry has finally crossed His dreams are all tossed and blown Though the fans on the Kop may be lost Gerry, you will never walk alone.
Gerry Marsden MBE, lead singer of Gerry and the Pacemakers has died at the age of 78. The group had several hits including, 'How do you do it?' 'Ferry, Cross the Mersey' and 'You'll never walk alone'. 'You'll never walk alone' became a football terrace anthem for the kop of his hometown club, Liverpool. RIP. Kop, the name for the home supprter's terrace at Liverpool FC
Black Clouds Woke up. Didn't want to. In a foul mood. Another resolution wasted. Challenged God to take me. Didn't work. Head thumping. Stomach washer-ing. Limbs trembling. Feel awful. Covid? Don't think so. More like death. Drag myself up. Walk/crawl to bathroom. Head bowed. Let me die. Please God! I hate hangovers.
New Covid Rules Snow White is in Tier 4 and according to the law can only bubble with one chappie and he's a dwarf but he is Happy!
RIP Pierre Monsieur Cardin Popped les clogs Il est dans le jardin Avec ses chiens Designer Cardin Popped his clogs He is in the garden With his dogs.
Dauphy: Pierre Cardin, the colourful French designer has died?
Hobbo: Yesterday.
Dauphy: Very sad. Popped les clogs! That’s not French!
Hobbo: No, but it’s funny.
Dauphy: You think so? I have my reputation to think about. Popped les clogs!
We found a cure! She worked day after day and with vigour Selfless unstinting and tireless To stop radios being de rigueur And cure the disease, 'Own a Wireless.'
Tomato Soup As the whole of the ward Grew redder and redder Doc wrote in his notes Tom's a Heinz Souper Spreader.
What's in a name? Arsenal star Martinelli Had hair styled by fan, Marty Nelly Mildly amusing What's really confusing Their tattooist of choice, Martin Ellie.
What makes you think I'm deaf? Your lunch is ready! Freddie, who is Freddie? It's lunch, it's on the table! Mabel, when did you see Mabel? Do you want to eat or not? Ah, now you call me clot! God, this is sooo frustrating! Whaddya' mean, I need castrating? Put your flipping aids in! You're rooting for a Saints win? Where did I go wrong? Can I sing a song? Jeez, I've had enough! I heard that, I'm not deaf! You hear when you've a hard on! That's rude, I heard that, pardon?
The health check You need to cut down on the fags old man Forty a day is too many Reducing to twenty would be a good start Though really, you shouldn't have any. I'll just check your blood pressure now, if I may My, my, that's a hundred and forty If you weren't a key worker, I'd put you on sick Your whole way of life is so naughty. You are heading towards diabetic With all those mince pies that you eat And alcohol isn't a staple When you have it, it should be a treat. I'll give you a jab for the virus But, be careful, should not go unsaid And once your deliveries are finished I suggest that you go back to bed. That's the end of your annual check up I hope you pay heed to my banter Your lifestyle must alter completely Or next year, there will not be a Santa.
Bye Bye Barbara Dame Barbara Windsor's gone It's such a Carry On Star of soap's Eastenders Her giggly grin befriends us So true, and in the end though We'll miss her innuendo. Actress Dame Barbara Windsor, star of Carry On films, and UK soap opera Eastenders, died today aged 83. RIP
Doctor "Has my son's arm been broken?" She sought their expert views The doctor, quietly spoken Said, "Yes, it's breaking news."
Where is he? Here lies a coffin Full of old bricks Harry Houdini Played one of his tricks.
Vaccine Listen here Covid 19 We've got a brand new vaccine You may feel that you've got your charms But we're having shots in our arms.
Bullying Here lies the body Of little Big Ears Murdered by Noddy And bullied for years.
Anguish Imagine your first thought in a morning every morning before your eyes are even open is shit I'm alive again. Now try and move on from there. It's exhausting.
RIP Mike Here lies the body Of motorist Mike Doing a ton And forgot to think bike.
Happiness Happiness a state of mind depending on nothing but a state of mind.
RIP Jennifer Here lies the body Of Jennifer Dyer Nylon nightie Met open fire.
RIP Mabel Here lies the body Of Mabel Moon Misread the label As tablespoon.
Autumn Autumn's reached, now we've retired Athletes shot, who've run their race No need for claims that we're inspired At work, not told to watch our place. For forty years we've done our share We put our shoulders to the plough No more mortgage, no more care It's time for some enjoyment now. Kids are gone, we've scraped some savings We even get our pensions paid Shall we now indulge our cravings Spend this little pot we've made. A cottage would be great, but face it We haven't got enough my dear A brand new car, so Scamp can chase it Frivolous, I hear you sneer. We've talked at length, discussion's done Ambitious plans, and things beneath It's not a holiday in the sun It's hearing aids and brand new teeth.
My Body I don't like my ears, I hate my nose My weight, my face, my hair, my tum My voice, my hands, my knees, my toes But I quite admire my bum.
Greedy girl She ate a considerable eyeful A veritable tower of trifle Got cramps in her belly From all that red jelly Which the greedy girl struggled to stifle.
Ears It might cause ringing But let's face facts What is so lyrical About ears full of wax.
A Spectacle Eyes, the window to our soul But glasses let me see the hole into which I nearly fell Where's my specs, oh bloody hell!
Hurry Up! Dinner's on the table Frustration in that shout Be down in just a minute The turtle's head's popped out.
Loneliness human company unappreciated until we are lonely.
Seventy He made his appearance one Tuesday Supposedly child full of grace The lad had hung on for a day Because Monday is child fair of face. Born in the year 1950 To a mum who was very contented She swaddled her son in a bin bag Lucky boy, they had just been invented. The new I.P.A had been formed That's the thing for police not the beer Shirley Temple announced her retirement So it promised to be a good year. The Archers began in that year Uruguay had won the World Cup And what with the birth of young Tony Things were generally thought on the up. A new comic, The Eagle, was published For boys with its hero Dan Dare Billy Ocean had his first appearance But the going was tough to be fair. Billy Ocean competed with Tony A lad with an eye for the girls Tony talked money, had patter Poor Billy had only his curls. A bit of success with the ladies But his marriages didn't go right So sad for a working class hero Though try and deny this he might. At Bruche he was called Albert Wangford And delighted in taking the piss Gang of four with his three other buddies Was something he just could not miss. The one thing that makes Tony proud Is his entrepreneurial flair If one of his schemes ever makes it Then he'll be a millionaire. His book that would keep your new bike safe Another to help you to slim The cycle idea was a washout And the diet did not work for him. Now that he's managed to reach seventy We should all celebrate, you'll agree The best thing that's happened to Tony Meeting his partner, young Fi.
The Wreck Implants for mouth Aids to help hearing Feel like a car Relentlessly nearing End of its life Dear to maintain Cost more and more Money down drain Unlike the motor Can't trade me in Stuck with this body Pass me that gin.
Granddad Granddad is so old now His back has got a crick I think my Gramps was born When the Dead Sea first got sick.
The Abuser You have A way of saying sorry Which makes me feel Like it's my fault.
The daydreamer Here lies the body Of Emily Spode Distracted by life As she crossed the main road.
The Truth Back at the dentist again She says, "Can you handle the tooth?" "Please cut out the jokes, I'm in pain Give it me straight, what's the truth?" "Well, you need yet another extraction The tooth has to go, I'm afraid." "That's the fourth one this year," my reaction "Do you think it's of money I'm made?" "You're going to need something to chew on Unless you like soup in a cup I can make you some dentures to glue on Or get some posh implants knocked up." Well, teeth in a jar I don't fancy To be kept, just in case, by the door So call me a bit of a Nancy But the implants are what I went for. It costs though an arm and also a leg The answer's crowd funding I know If I do this then I won't need to beg I'll call the page gobbo for Hobbo.
The Widow when you promised till death us do part I never thought it would happen.
The surgeon She worked with precision And no supervision Until the collision As she made her incision Led to circumcision An unwanted division Result, her derision.
Rest in Peace Here lies the body Of Benjamin Doyle Whose nurse got mixed up When they said prick his boil. ...............ouch!
Not Me A talented sculptor, artistic With a lifestyle, described hedonistic Thin as a waif Assumed he was safe From Covid, is one more statistic.
Democracy More dead from Covid nineteen Than were killed in fourteen-eighteen Second World War, Vietnam And still this man don't give a damn. Democracy, well that's a joke The wishes of ordinary folk Discounted on merely a whim But not if you voted for him.
Roses Ring a ring o' roses Cover mouths and noses Hospital full, before the cull We're all locked down.
Girl Power Remember, remember, the fifth of November The U.K's in lock-down again To beat this disease, sack all the M.P's Put a woman in charge, with a brain.
Best holiday ever We should never have chosen off peak It was raining, the car sprang a leak David squashed granny's best hat Baby Alfie was sick on the cat. On the moors, dad ran over a ram An hour later, we're stuck in a jam We got there too late for the ferry Mum found the bar and got merry. We arrived there to find we'd left gran At the caff, with a man from Japan Our five star was under construct And all of the rooms double booked. The bathroom and toilet were dirty The waiters and waitresses shirty My purse and my handbag got nicked And our sightseeing coaches were bricked. The food gave young Lucy the trots And Christopher broke out in spots German measles, our french doctor said And confined him to ten days in bed. Paragliding, my mum sprained her back Sadly, dad had a mild heart attack We learned from a broker named Khalid Our insurance was no longer valid. Going home, despite begging and pleading Dad got a ticket for speeding When the copper told dad he could start Our tyres were as flat as a fart. Once home, track-traced for Covid 19 So then, yes you've guessed, quarantine And because we are now isolating This vacation gets zero star rating.
Locked Down On a planet that is unrecognisable A lock-down is becoming advisable Some follow the rules A few act like fools Whilst for others, the subject's divisible.
Affection You are the butter on my bread The salt upon my chips I'll love you till you're dead Despite your dodgy hips. And you're the sugar in my tea The cream upon my pie Though your undies smell of wee I will love you till I die.
Lockdown I want a circuit breaker I'm in a tier three town I'm up for anything That brings my leccy down. Leccy is slang for electricity or electricity bill
Farewell Rock on Tommy Funny faces Made us laugh With trademark braces. Comedy legend Missed by all Gone forever Bobby Ball.
What's Covid? Here lies the body Of Caroline Crump Coronavirus denier Who listened to Trump.
Diagnosis "Water on the brain," So the doctor said "Don't worry," she explained "A quick tap on the head."
The Black Dog You are the sunshine of my life You are, you really are Why does it keep raining then My little superstar?
Pandemic Is a pandemic Systemic Of too many Pans On the planet It can't Mean that Can it?
Vanishing Youth You are no longer in your youth So I'll remove that pesky tooth I know there's wisdom in it But we're going to have to bin it. Brace yourself for this injection I'll get rid of your infection And the toothache that was raging Is now a gap, first signs of ageing. Your mouth will start to droop But you can have a little soup Now, if you're feeling better Here's my bill and thank you letter.
Mrs Mopp Here lies the body Of Madeleine Mopp The sign wasn't 'Give Way' It was quite clearly 'Stop.'
Dear Diary Monday dentist, Tuesday doctor's (Socially apart) Wednesday have my hearing checked Thursday, specialist for my heart. Friday, get my toupee cleaned Saturday, food from shops Sunday, Covid lockdown And all my pleasure stops.
Depression I love my sons I love my wife I love my dog I love my life. Why is it then If I'm so blessed That once again I'm damn depressed. Get out of my mind...I hate you.
Eternity Eternal dark, eternal light No one can be certain If our eternal soul takes flight When life, closes it's curtain.
Insomnia House is asleep Apart from me I've counted sheep I've been for a pee. Sheets in a heap Partner snoring She is in deep God this is boring. It's just turned three Street's so quiet I'll make some tea And sod the diet. Tea did not work Gave me heartburn Feel such a berk Will I never learn? Read till I ache Just start to drift Shaken awake "You're on early shift."
Holiday I am not dead, I will not die And Covid won't beat me because When this is over, then I'll fly For six weeks holiday to Oz
The Flu Jab Oh, it's good to be alive I'm really quite excited At the age of sixty five For my flu jab, I'm invited. The nurse (Fat and gum-chewing) Drew a target on my bum Asked, "What do you think you're doing?" Replied, "It's social distance chum." My trembling arm she grabbed And joked,"Don't worry matey The last one that I stabbed I scored the max, one eighty." So, now I'm flu resistant I should be feeling cool But, Covid's more persistent And I'm nobody's fool.
Covid Often a target for bullies Not the handsomest kid in the shop But over the last month or so The teasing has come to a stop. Now, I can join in with the others "Why's that?" you might very well ask Well, it's thanks to the outbreak of Covid You see, I look great in a mask.
Warning Labels 'Smoking kills,' Sally read on the packet As she bent down to pick up her litter So engrossed, she did not hear the racket Of the thirty ton lorry that hit her.
Coronavirus Days In happier days To paraphrase Folk led a great existence Now they deep clean Covid 19 And keep their social distance.
My mum, and Covid My mum has turned ninety, so I cannot go And visit her care home, to just say "hello." I can sell my house,to a stranger it seems Or play golf in the park with the man of my dreams. If I go to the shops, I keep six feet apart But try telling that to the silly old fart Who blocks up the aisle whilst he's choosing his bread Move you old git, or I might end up dead. I can't see my mum, and that really hurts But we all have to act upon what the experts Say is the best way to beat this disease No, Mr Trump, don't blame the Chinese. Every Thursday night then, I'll go out and clap Our great N.H.S who deserve a backslap For all their hard work, and when it's all done I'll raise a glass of champagne, to my mum, ninety-one.
Growing Old The memory is shot Hands constantly shake Am I losing the plot? My joints always ache. I've lost most of my teeth And all of my hair What lies underneath That oft vacant stare? A distant daydream Of fond souvenirs Or deaf as I seem Just wax in my ears. It's not by design I accumulate ills. I've turned infantine On tablets and pills. Lotions and potions Towel and pad Even my motions Examined, how sad. And as for the sex Of those halcyon days I'll just get my specs And read what it says On this bottle I've got The writing's so small What a load of old rot Viagra cures all.
