This is your life

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This is your life

Life
may provide
the pen
and the paper

But
you
are the one
who writes
the story.

The Shopping Trolley

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The Shopping Trolley

Squeaky wheeled, the shopping cart
Ferries goodies round the mart.
In its ever changing hold
Lie lost secrets, never told.

Errant husbands in a hurry
Farmer types who smell of slurry
Secret Santas for the office
Squabbling kids who fight for toffees.

Fussy sorts, the feely-touchers
Veggies who avoid the butchers
Grimy toddlers, babes in nappies
O.A.P's and cheeky chappies.

Lover boys with cheapskate flowers
Lonely folk who pass the hours
Chatting with the clientele
Shopping till that final bell.

Thieves with no intent to pay
Drunken louts who start affrays
Married couples, taking huff
Pin striped suits, and working scruffs.

Diets won and diets lost
Thrifty ones, who count the cost
Of each item as they pick it
Mentally arithmetic it. 

Coupon warriors, voucher wavers
Flashy spendthrifts, super savers.
You've seen the lot, know all our tricks
So, can't you get that damn wheel fixed!

O.A.P Old age pensioner in UK, senior citizen.

Tempus fugit

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Tempus fugit

That breath
you have taken
you will never
breathe again.

The harsh words
you have spoken
can never
be unsaid.

That memory
you are making,
the teardrop
in your eye
and tomorrow
claims the lot,
every thing
a fleeting lie.

Be not afraid
though, little one.
Time flies like this
for everyone.

Just do it!

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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.

Transient as a train timetable

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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.

You and me, me and you

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You and me, me and you

You measure success by your power
The money you earn by the hour
Your place at the top of the chart
The people who nod when you fart.

Now, I, am content with my lot
Whereas you (Sir!), quite clearly are not
I always sleep soundly in bed
But you chase the dreams in your head.

For me, life's a joy and a pleasure
My family and friends are my treasure
You are constantly searching for more
Never pausing to think, what life's for.

I consider what use I can be
To others, with you it's all me
For you, a huge house is essential
Though I think it inconsequential.

Love that we share and we give
Are the tenets by which we should live
You think that fame is a must
You forget that we all turn to dust.

When you die, are there people who'll grieve
Or, will they count the money you leave
Have you spent your time wisely on earth
It's the value that counts, not the worth.

C’est la vie!

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C'est la vie

Life is
a cornucopia of contrast
a cruel joke
of juxtapositions.
C'est la vie.

The unimaginable wealth
of royal racehorse owners
and
The life sapping poverty
of the homeless gambling addict.
C'est la vie.

The limitless optimism
of human ideals
and
the actual reality
of everyday life.
C'est la vie.

The glorious beauty 
of planet earth
and
our ugly determination
to destroy it.
C'est la vie.

The corrosive corruption
of absolute power
and
the frustrating impotence
of the powerless.
C'est la vie.

Our futile attempts
at cheating death
and
the inexorable 
tramp of time.
C'est la vie.

The carefully crafted images
of the poet's pen
and
the thoughtless hatred
vomited on social media.
C'est la vie!


C'est la vie:  That's life.

The apple of his eye

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The apple of his eye

Adam, says Eve
Do you fancy an apple
And then if you're lucky
Maybe a grapple.

An apple, says Adam
Scratching his chin
What will God say
Won't we commit sin?

Eve shows her wares
To the shy Romeo
Cortland, Pink Lady
Jazz, Cameo.

Gala and Braeburn
Fuji, Jonagold
Cosmic and Empire
Envy, Gingergold.

Golden Delicious
Granny Smith
Red Delicious
Honey Crisp.

Newton Pippin
McIntosh
Cox's Pippin
Ruby Frost.

Tempting lady
And a looker
Adam wisely
Chose a cooker.

This is not a rehearsal

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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.

Another day

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Another day

storm clouds gathering
nature's harbingers of doom
birds holding their breath.
sun, escapes it's horizon
we smile, live another day.
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