Thomas Hobson (1544 –1631)
in 19th century late
a Cambridge ostler and postal carrier
set his priorities straight
he owned a livery stable
of 40 Hackney horses or more
plus boots bridles and whips
and put the horse the cart before
after the animal left the barn
by bolting fast the door
and as precautionary balm
the nag nearest the stable gate
the worn-out equine storm to calm
was the firm rule he did make
this one or none in the stall
was that which customers had to take
or do with no ride at all
but for the paying equestrians
either way they win or lose
as there was no choice but accept or reject
for any of them to choose
A Handcart and a Ring
A man I knew had a handcart and became self-employed
I often saw him in the town with a load of parcels and sometimes furniture
He was a contented man.
One day, on his way to the railway station, the wheel of his cart came off
four suitcases fell into the street.
So, what to do?
He traced his steps and soon found the missing pieces that kept the wheel
on the axle, but he also found an expensive diamond ring
he put it in his pocket as he was occupied with fixing the wheel
and get his load of suitcases to the railway station
In the paper, he read about a lady who had lost a dear ring
he contacted her via the paper, and she was happy,
she didn’t give him any money because, as she said, honesty has its reward
The people at the paper thought this was too mean for words
made a collection and handed the kind man the money.
A Picture of him and his cart, the paper, and a nice story for the paper to sell.
when too old to push his cart around, he became a poet of the small things in life
and not about the life of aristocrats
Why does the trolley
dolly or cart
I choose to use
in every supermart
always have a wonky wobbly wheel
and feel oh so wearing
as if it's about to lose
its marbles or ball bearings?
It clunks like junk with a 'thunking' sound
and almost dumps
my groceries on the ground
won't go straight
invariably tilts veers
careens or curves
and without a doubt
indubitably gets on my nerves
Albo built a billy-cart..' named it m a d info no 1.!
He's dragged it up to Thredbo.Mates...
Now the whole things came un-done.!
I did half a cart wheel
once pooped a quarter
don't ask
OK, i also tried the dog food
the crunchy stuff wasn't bad
I'll still eat the last cookie
and love taking the large strawberry
that sits atop the display
whenever I wear a nice shirt
everyone gets a bit nervous
I drive my trucks until Vegas
takes them off the board
I wore the same sport jacket
for all four years of high school
(ya hadda wear one...
I took it literally)
I've only had one cat
enough is enough
At one point in my life
ALL of my worldly possessions
fit into my Volkswagen
it was not a camper
Maybe i read too much
Thoreau in my youth
in defense of my actions
over 3/4ths of a century
it seem like a good idea at the time.
what he did with cart
singing would begin and start
which had touched our heart
Horn With Cart Singing Haiku
Hitch The Old Mule And Load The Harvest Cart
Across the plains a bad ole murky mess
Unites in its quivering tears apart
And the bashful bride dares not that confess
As she knows for sure it would break his heart
Bloated bodies bend with such dusky chills
And the ill cast weather leaves what it starts
Grandpa cries, "Hon' bring me my little pills"
Hitch the old mule and load the harvest cart
Watch the red moon and its wide flaming rings
Crow knows the tiger will eat anything
And the fairies dance their proud lovers swing
While the farmer's wife wakes early to sing
Dawn rises and its glory proudly displays
Cheating gambler faces well-earned pay!
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet,
May 12th 1972
No Milord, it can wait— this software,
Let’s talk of what wears hard— the hardware.
Let justice come in time,
Ye better prove it’s prime,
On firm ground, not like gauze gossamer!
From sentiments august
To first things that come first,
So that time-wasters of cobwebs clear,
Let justice come in time,
And with reasons that rhyme,
What use late, late justice although fair?
_______________________________________
Happenings |10.05.2023| justice
Poet’s note: The Chief Justice of India feels: judiciary is committed to take justice to every home through technology: live streaming of judicial proceedings, translation of orders into local languages, e-courts, and the like. This is fine, but if there is one problem to be addressed to before anything else it is clearance of hundreds of thousands of pending cases. A commonsense 80:20 principle that 20% of efforts fetch 80% of result. This is third in the series: Your slip is showing, Milord.
I had him reserved superb name
Simply to awaken the flame:
Grey Floyd proclaim “Never to fall”
This saying in Reception Hall
For Praised Artists’ Exhibition
That should address Inhibition
A crime make of Prohibition
And quite ignite The Ambition
“Yeah, I have seen all of Floyd’s Art
And could bet they would feel a cart!”
My homage where Artists gathered
Plus ‘Famous’ who had him fathered:
The Ever Loved for a Sculpture
Of Busy-With-Carrion Vulture…
But Floyd was just good At Graphics,
To many Familiar Efik:
Much cheaper than Hieroglyphics
Unlike Difficult Ceramics;
It’s A Floyd who might resign
With a ban on Graphic Design…
Then, he should self urge to spread out
As this wouldn’t mean rules does flout:
I’ll be waiting to the more shout
Floyd grant The Salute of A Scout.
The road sweepers
Giggled happily
While collecting and carrying rubbish
With a one wheel cart
The construction workers
Sweated heavily
While collecting and carrying bricks
With a one wheel cart
As children
We played secretly
With the one wheel cart
Carrying inside a little girl as a bride
And the cart rolled and rolled
Until it disappeared from our eyes
Together with our child brides
Maybe with only some heartbroken memories left
To this progressive world
Hello I am Dollar Store Diva
Saturday is my shopping day
I take my friend Steve-ah
We are heading your way
We used to get a cart full
But now there are only three
Used to be fourteen
Most have been borrowed by likes of me
I take them to my apartment
Just whizz them around the room
Want to cart ride at my house?
You’d better get there soon
I have heard a rumor
The police are on their way
I am tossing them out the window
Jail fines I cannot afford to pay.
The Shopping Cart
Upon my veritable throne I survey
subjects of sundry colors,
cans and jars, packets and bags
arrayed in reverent order before me.
I am appointed, by natural virtue
captain of this mighty ship
past denizens of the white-tiled, polished sea
steered through (a)isles by two sturdy hands.
Before me lies, in mangled letters,
a royal sanction, listing treasures from far and wide
my trained eyes decipher the cryptic codes
rendered in smudged ink,
and by my direction, mine alone
we cruise past other ships, on their missions,
seeking loot to plunder off soaring towers
like panels painted in the same color.
When at last, our voyage concludes,
our ship, weary but worthy
languidly does sail over to the fine,
bespectacled statue behind a glowing screen.
Our treasures they measure with
that beeping baton, when at last,
in the name of the King, we are charged
royal customs, each one of us a tributary.
And off we go, onto terra firma
where I shall become a child again,
and my subjects, most ungraciously packed
into suffocating little plastic bags.
Dated - 29th October 2021
They rolled along the dirty road,
With apples fresh among the load.
They stopped a mile from the mart,
As I upset the apple cart,
I stood in front as if to stop,
Causing all the fruit to drop,
Telling where the road had led,
And warned of dangers up ahead.
Told my time of being there,
Coming back all worse for wear.
Be it known, I planned in part,
To NOT upset the apple cart.
These things they didn’t NEED to know,
I felt it was my duty though.
I don’t mind to take the blame,
If things for them don’t end the same.
Thanking me for being nice,
Exchanged an apple for advice,
A different road they did depart,
When I upset the apple cart.
Town Car
Limousine
Golf Cart
Handicap
Hole in 1
Sand Wedge
Bunker
Apprentice
Litigation
1 Term
4 Short year's
Reality
Fired
Good luck Joe
You won
It's your problem now
Time to deliver
Millions of lonely people
sitting right next to each other
never saying a word
to one another
fearful of starting over
fearful of not being good enough
or pretty enough.
Fearful of rejection
fearful of wading into
murky waters of a new age heart
filled with blood of the past
and dorsal fins of the future.
Millions of lonely hearts
flitting past about
like moths at graying dusk
eyes down
so afraid of disrespecting their dead soulmate
Happiness is just a rusty shopping cart away.
Related Poems