Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Homo sapiens
Posted on 9th May 2022
Homo sapiens Claiming our Gods, yet acting like God, we treat our whole world with contempt. Gifted with brains to break free our chains, one would think we would try to attempt to cherish our planet, much sooner than it fall prey to our greedy endeavour. Respecting the worth of unique Mother Earth is survival; it's not even clever.
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Dear God
Posted on 21st Mar 2022
Dear God Dictators - how can they relax, and why don't viruses pay tax, why are some folk made more equal, could Fawlty Towers have a sequel? Why do tiny kids get cancer, should I have been a better dancer, why do women fight for rights, does quinoa have to taste like shite? How do boys become abusers, are cola addicts, cocaine users, why is war the only answer, can elephants be great romancers? Why have we discovered plastic, a small tattoo - is that too drastic, why do we destroy our planet, how do you eat a pomegranate? Why so many refugees, can I have a payrise, please, why do children need to die, why've I got but one brown eye? Why so many different nations, what's the point of maths equations, why not more trailblazing mums, dogs - why sniff each other's bums? Why is everything unfair, does it look big, my derriere? Please, I need some answers, God, or am I just an awkward bod?
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Allahu Akbar
Posted on 15th Sep 2021
Allahu Akbar In the City of Love, barely six years ago, Well over a hundred were slain, But with so many atrocities since, We needed reminding again. How many thousands have died, And how many more are to follow. The depth of man's hatred of humans Leaves me bemused, upset, hollow. Then, lovingly gazing at you, My heart fills with wonder and pride, And I instantly know that it's true, God is great, and on everyone's side.
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A chat with my maker
Posted on 11th May 2021
A chat with my maker
I hate my nose, God,
It's way, way too big,
And my pale pink skin
Makes me look like a pig.
You need a large nose
To hold up your glasses.
Would you rather you had
A skin like molasses?
Black would be great,
I've no prejudice.
But four foot eight tall
Are you taking the piss?
I save my dark skin
For the people I like
And as for your size,
Well. how big's your bike?
I know that you're busy
With the millions you make,
One thing I detest,
Is the way my hands shake.
That's a small error,
Quality control,
No way it affects
The life in your soul.
Talking of which,
How long have I got,
Before popping my clogs
And starting to rot?
I can't be exact,
It's only a hunch,
All I would say is
Enjoy a good lunch.
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Does the pandemic ask us and allow us to question everything? (John Lennon edition) — Bob Schwartz
Posted on 22nd Nov 2020
I am sorry to say that I missed noting what would have been John Lennon’s 80th birthday on October 9. It should have been a bigger deal for me and the world, but we were apparently otherwise occupied. Apart from what we believe in, there is reason to suggest that we are better off believing […]
Does the pandemic ask us and allow us to question everything? (John Lennon edition) — Bob Schwartz
This is a re-blog of a great post by Bob Schwartz. For the full thing, click on the link above…
Hobbo
Hobbo's Poems 