Just a thought

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Just a thought

Pacing the floor
whilst searching for more
inspiration, a thought
pops up and is caught
in Hobbo's nonsensical head,
his life spent composing,
but now decomposing,
perhaps he is already dead!

A Twilight Age

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A Twilight Age

We reach a twilight age,
When every pristine page
Has already been perused,
Thumbed, digested, used.
We've been there, seen it, done it,
Fought our corner, sometimes won it,
Heard gross tetes and bigger cheeses
Spout the nonsense they think pleases.

Bloody conflicts, costly war,
God knows what their fight is for.
What do all these deaths achieve,
When millions more are left to grieve?
We've borne disease, lived through pandemic
And seen how greed can be endemic,
Witnessed poverty, violence, hate,
Some things, they barely fluctuate.

Of course, we've seen the brighter side,
Loved and laughed until we've cried,
Blessed with children, watched them growing
Up contented, happy showing
Nurtured wisdom, common sense,
A bouncing back resilience.
Our parents having guided through,
It's mirrored in our children too.

We've sung, we've danced, we've had that ball
And money's never been our all,
We know the value of real friends,
A lifetime shared until all ends
And now our race is almost done,
We've made the most, we've had some fun.
One mystery left, take note, remark it,
What happens when we finally cark it?

The Note

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The Note

Son, I am sorry.
I had always hoped
that your mum would go first.
Finding her like this,
cold and lifeless,
has broken my heart,
torn me apart,

I love you
and your sisters,
and the grandchildren, of course I do,
mum was my rock,
my strength, my support,
my raison d.etre.
Life without her
would be unimaginably bleak,
an existence, not a life.

So, I am sorry, but it's my choice
and there are worse ways
to end everything
than a bottle of best malt
and some happy pills.
When you find us,
take comfort in our togetherness
and tell the others
that we love you all,

The Assassin

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The Assassin

He died
in excruciating agony,
flat on his back,
limbs flailing,
choking with
each breath,
the toxin
burning his lungs,
each dying gasp
an inhuman noise,
a call for mercy,
a plea to me,
his killer.

This wasn't
just murder,
it was cruel
When I procured
the poison,
I gave no thought
To how protracted
and painful
his death would be.
I felt ashamed,
but then again,
I hate flies.

Thank You

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Thank You

Here I am God, as requested
Ancient body, tried and tested.
Skin unblemished, virgin state,
No tattoos at any rate.
I can not lie, I've had a hoot,
Returned with thanks, my birthday suit.

La vie est belle

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La vie est belle

There's nothing much to do up here,
I can't get the hang of this harp.
Saint Peter said to learn by ear,
So is this E flat or F sharp?
La vie est belle, they said,
It sure beats being dead.

I'm looking down on all my friends,
And the small stuff causing worry.
It's not too late to make amends,
Life's way too short to hurry.
La vie est belle, they said,
It sure beats being dead.

And who let all these people in,
My long lost friends and relatives?
It's nice to see loved ones again,
But some of these are negatives!
La vie est belle, they said,
It sure beats being dead.

Enjoy your life and make the most,
It ain't all work, it should be fun.
You're far too long a flipping ghost,
And once it's done my friend, it's done.
La vie est belle, they said,
It sure beats being dead.

The Hospice

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The Hospice

I envy the dead,
they already know
that secret we dread,
when it's our time to go.

I envy the dead,
a strange way to feel,
a thought in my head,
no time left to heal.

A heaven or hell,
or simply big sleep.
We don't get to tell,
it's secrets we'll keep.

Soon, no need to guess
if I've been misled,
by religion, oh yes,
I envy the dead.

The Burial

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The Burial

A sign of their meanness,
Or nod to his greenness.
They carried him off in
A used cardboard coffin.

The Skull

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The Skull

Buried beneath
centuries of secrets.
upon compressed layer
of mystery
and intrigue.

to make way
for a car park.
with more reverence
than ever
you commanded
in this life.

Forensically examined.
A large gash
almost cleaved you
in two.
A violent death.
For what cause?
For what lover?

Does the passage
of time
your departure?
Make it
less bloody,
less painful,
less wrong?


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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.
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