Fob Poems

elderliness and Helen Mirren

elderly and Helen Mirren


It is hard work to be old; many people prey on us, the elderly
My wife is better at telling people to fob off than I am
When people tell me a sob story, I tend to believe
What they, why else will they tell
My wife and I are very different; she likes to speak to
people in a cafe or a waiting room at the doctor's, yes, we
Do see many doctors, with age comes the infirmary
I sit there and try not to look at the clock 
She comes from an upper-class family without money
I am from a modest background with a tendency not to spend
money, but safe for a day, it might rain, and we will be
caught in the downpour without an umbrella
Yes, in public, we hold hands, we get the condescending
glances, oh, how sweet they are
I feel annoyed like Helen Mirren, wishing that people would
 off and leave us in peace

Untitled

there was a young surgeon named Bob
who learned his craft on the job
on a post op exam
with stethoscope in hand
realized where he left his Swiss watch and fob

Bread

Fresh bread,
sometimes called “fob”,
very bland by itself,
but with peanut butter and jam:
pure bliss.

Aunt Bert’s
fresh homemade bread:
Molasses and raisins
weren't the secret ingredients,
just love.

Bad Day In 2009

The 10th July 2009
7 soldiers died on the front line
Panthers Claw the op was called
Sangin district is where we toured

2nd battalion the rifles had a few bad days
With many a soldier still in that haze
Sangin DC or Fob Rob to others
Left a lot of grieving mothers

The worst fatalities in all the years
Fighting insurgents bringing with it tears
You can't help but to think why
Another of service men and women should die

Others left with life changing injuries
From gunshot wounds to triple amputees
Swift and bold the motto was
But leaving the gates everyone was anxious

Even today 14 years on.
Soldiers struggling feeling they don't belong
Mentally and physically exhausting it is
The mind playing games taking the piss

Rifleman Simpson and Rfn jo Murphy 
Cpl Jon horne and Cpl Scot Lee
James backhouse and Sgt Paul mcaleese
William Aldridge lives taken with ease

I know war is war
And casualties happen
But why should this be
Those who survive get PTSD

The Journey of My Pen

Long years back writing just was a job,
To my boss— a bugbear, my pet lob,
It then turned to hobby—
To numb noise my Dolby,
My life’s passion by now consigned FOB
Of an unpaid cabby,
A do-not-so hubby,
A horse in harness, show-off doorknob.
_________________________________
FOB: Free on board as in shipments
Reflections |02.05.2023| humour

The Heart's Eye

"The Heart’s Eye"

When the heart’s eye
speaks to you,
you listen, just as 
when the heart’s eye
sees how it all is,
you feel, touched
in the mind

the heart’s eye 
is an overworked muscle
working overtime 
a pearl of wisdom
eating you inside out
like a carnival eats 
its exposed clowns

eventually it stops
tick-tock
tick-tock
no one truly suspects
the depths of its 
depraved covert nature 
incognito, it’s a time bomb

some Lewis clock
on a well-lit fob watch
down the rabbit hole 
we go journeying 
with smiling hatters
who are really Jabberwocks
the heart’s eye is a Red Queen

residing inside 
Love, exists, resists,
concedes for all its worth 
light and dark treacly stuff
it’s a messy business
it ain't clean, 
all said and done

when heads 
roll off 

(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)

Untouched By Tempests

A drug crazed world spins on ever faster.
Bodies tumble out of that carousel
never to be seen again.
Once whirling dervishes twirled
now they stagger and fall drunkenly.
Molestation hangs in the air
drooling its perilous lava.
All control is folly,

and yet...

this morning
I sip at a mug of Columbian
one hand to pick up a casino bought fob watch,
I let its fake gold chain run threw my fingers,
feel the weight of the colored glass jewel
set within its case
This simple tactility rests my mind
I am at peace with myself.

if all the lithium cell batteries were to cease
this instant,
I would still have this moment to live within,
the taste of rich coffee and this non-working $10 watch
to treasure.

All That Education

Parents sent him to school
     to learn the Golden Rule 

   Son entered college
     to pursue knowledge

   Now he has a fine job
     chained to a fob

Wonderland I: Prologue

The west winds of springtime
Brought forth April showers
That rained on the pavements
Of Southwick for hours.

It was standing room only
And full to the brim
As people sought shelter 
At the old Tabard Inn.
           
A man with a top hat
Sat staring in space.
There was illness and sadness 
Etched deep in his face.
   
A man with a fob watch
Was seen swapping gold
For a bottle of whisky
Before facing the cold.

A woman sighed deeply
Then laughed with a guest
While sipping tap water
And winning at chess. 

There was no chef so no food
Since that dark violent day 
When the innkeeper watched him
Being stretchered away.

So the sailor (being followed)
Missed having his tea,
And drank five pints of real ale
Before leaving for sea.

Alarms

I’ll never get used to alarms
Though homeowners see all their charms.
It’s too easy to make
Just one tiny mistake
Which can cause some to be up in arms.

To disarm one you need fob or code
Or you’ll wake an entire abode
For the noise it emits
Blows one’s eardrums to bits
And those woken from sleep may explode.

In the city, alarm use is rare
And it isn’t that people don’t care
But a doorman and lock
Chase the thieves from the block
To the suburbs – alarmers beware!

Cars Today Do Not Come With Keys

Cars today do not come with keys.
You are handed a little elongated remote fob thing.
Silver and black, looks science fiction-ish.

If you are me, you think there is a button somewhere.
If you flick it, the teeth of the key will appear like a switchblade.
But

N
N
N
O
O
O

That does not happen.
It is a keyless car; you have to have the fob to start it
But there is a start button. 
It took me several tries and the delivery man jumped in twice.
He explained it, and I jumped back in.
But I did not get it until the second time.
The trick is – you have to put your foot on the brake and keep it there
Until you push the start button and hear it start.
If it has a real soft engine, you do not hear it at all.
I was terrified we had bought a car I could not ever start.

Patent No 1

Patent No.1


Give me directions to find my car.
Arrows on the key fob, point near or far.
North by North West; is this the right way?  Yes.
There is my car, under the star.
This invention is the best.
Trackar, twenty yards away, easy to find.
All you need to do is follow the line.


(C)2019 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

We Will Rob a Job

We Will Rob a Job

We will rob a job,
When we are using a FOB;
Eat no corn on cob.

We have multiple job holders, people
working in one state yet they living in 
another and newly created jobs combining
other jobs. We may create new jobs but
if the new jobs replace more jobs than 
they create. there will be a negative effect.
How does the effect affect the effect? Must
use input output analysis to realize the total,
full effects. Automation can be the creation
of much hesitation.

Jim Horn

Bob Dylan Is Great

Bob Dylan is great
And he is real mate

He started out like Woodie Guthrie
But only roughly

He told us the answer was in the wind
He was all so thin

He went electric and creative
It went hectic and stimulative

He was called Judas and booed off stage
The crowds were in a rage

He fell off his motorbike
And things changed again with a strike

He hid in a basement
Curing his ailment

Then he returned to the watchtower
With even more power

He knocked on heaven's door
And he was back to his fore

He split with Sara
And made a movie about a Clara

There was blood on the tracks
But he reached a new climax

He got lost in religion
And hovered around like a pigeon

He took a slow train
And soon started to regain

He became a shooting star
No signs of any scars

Even though the world had gone wrong
He still sang his song

Then came 'Time out of Mind'
Nothing like it of any kind

Lots of things had changed
But in a sense it was just rearranged

Roll on Bob
But watch your fob

Then came the Nobel Prize
For us it was no surprise

Bob Dylan is Great
And bloody real mate

Bob Dylan is great
Bob Dylan is unreal mate

Clyde Duran 1894-1923

Clyde Duran

1894-1923

Kindly show me the exit sign!

My watch fob is missing.

It is most likely with the trench nails.

Those nails lay strewn by the cat,

Out back amongst the kiln bricks,

And the broken wheelbarrow.

Send for the constable!

Summon the parson with the forked tongue!

Peel the oranges carefully please.

Use the trench nails!

Here kitty kitty kitty.

Have you, my little furry friend,

Seen the exit sign?

Mother may have hidden it, out back,

With the cream cookies.

How dare I once again,

Steal the cream cookies!

Mother Mother.

I tried to please you best I could.

Sorry I displeased you with 

My lazy irresponsible ways.

Sorry for being such a disappointment to you.

Where is my watch fob?

Where is my sweet little kitty?

Send for the constable!

Summon the lying parson!

And kindly show me the exit sign!

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