A true measure for J.T, Ellison
The measure of a life is not
the length of time from birth to death.
Nor the possessions you have got
or what you say with your last breath
But what you did whilst you were here.
The joy and happiness you shared
with those you loved and held most dear.
With total strangers if you dared.
If all your kind deeds can outweigh
the things you did which you regret.
As through the world you made your way,
and folks are willing to forget.
Your little foibles faults and flaws
because you did more good than harm.
As you tried to steer your course
through the rough waters to the calm.
Your worth is only measured by
The memories you leave behind.
this is a truth I can’t deny.
To which I have become resigned.
26-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Useless, A challenge entry
The handbook isn’t written yet
that will teach me to forget.
The years of happiness we shared.
I have no doubt because we dared,
to accept that we were meant to be.
Bonded together as a pair
Because we matched so perfectly.
A partnership beyond compare.
There’s no hand book nor will there be.
In any language known to man,
which can erase your memory.
I am certain that nothing can
Of what use could a handbook be?
It won’t relieve my misery.
23-Sep-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A whole new ball game.
The time had come for me to go and leave the world of work behind
I was not sure, did not know how I would occupy my mind
To fill the long hours of the day. I knew some things I’d like to try.
But work had left small time for play and now there s was no reason why.
My times my own an I am free to try my hand at something new
from pottery to poetry and that is what I mean to do.
It may seem strange but now I find there are too few hours in the day.
To do the things I have in mind. I look at life a different way.
Retirement wrought a change in me I do the thing I want to do
I have no one to please but me. Something you can look forward to.
When you too leave the world of work behind. You’ll be too busy to regret.
The years you spent as a wage slave you’ll be quite happy to forget.
19-Jul-08
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Doubletalk for Friend Thad
I don’t accept coinicidence
although some things seem synchronised.
I can’t believe it is by chance.
Although I know my view defies.
What is accepted usually
by other folks who disagree.
The tend to look askance at me.
Regard my stance contemptuously
As they are quite entitled to.
Its only an hypothesis
I cannot prove that it is true.
But I would feel it most remiss
to deny synchronicity.
I’d see that as duplicity..
18-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Your Place
I awaken-- in the soft darkness.
Alone-- but yet not lonely,
Your place --beside me in our bed
Is filled-- with memories of you
Only-- you of all women could
With--your constancy leave such sweet
Memories-- that comfort me still.
13-Dec-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Self justification.
It’s not so easy to forget.
The things we did which we regret
Though if we try we may succeed
in justifying every deed.
Convince ourselves we had no choice
Ignore the inner nagging voice.
Which reminds us constantly.
We did what we did willingly.
We know when we indulged our lust
that we betrayed another’s trust.
We did not see it as a crime
and we enjoyed it at the time.
Although in time we realise
that our excuses are all lies.
Friday,21 January 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The River Knows
Englyn unodle crwca
Quietly the river flows
never telling all it knows.
Has no reason I suppose and no voice.
We rejoice it does.
Whilst the river holds its peace.
We need not fear it might release,
From its store of memories: Dark secrets.
It forgets and heeds our pleas.
Secrets which we wish to hide.
We can cast our cares aside.
The wise river will decide, not to tell.
suits us well, all denied
Sins we now view with regret
.Sins we would we could forget
The river will keep secret for ever
and never cause upset.
Tuesday,09 February 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Inevitable conclusion
Inevitable.
All who are born will surely die.
Nobody can escape their fate
Be they of high or low estate.
We may not know the reason why.
Each one of us will have to wait.
All who are born will surely die
This is a truth none can deny.
We must accept that soon or late
Our time will come Death will not wait.
All who are born will surely die.
Chaucerian Rondel
21/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Content.
All things bright and beautiful
all creatures great and small.
If you are rich and powerful.
Then you can have them all.
Each little flower that opens.
Each little bird that sings
If you can afford it; then
you can have all of these things
But cash cannot buy happiness
True happiness is not for sale.
So if you only seek success.
Although you win you’re bound to fail
The secret of true happiness
To have enough no more no less.
31/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The only Way to go.
Some choose to grow old quietly
but others take a different view.
They chose to live disgracefully.
Why should you give up having fun.
Because you’ve reached a certain age.
There are still things you haven’t done.
You want to do before you die
Though your time may be limited.
You see no reason not to try
To make your madcap dreams come true.
Why should you sit and vegetate
as other folks expect you to.
You are the captain of your fate.
So you can do what you want to.
Tomorrow may be far too late.
So do it now immediately.
Regardless of the consequence.
What does it matter anyway?
Society may not agree.
You have the right to your own view
Choose to act disgracefully.
You’ll find that life is much more fun
than sitting watching the T.V.
Show the world you’re still someone
Seize every opportunity
that life’s prepared to offer you.
To shock your neighbours thoroughly.
They choose to sit and wait to die.
You choose to do the opposite.
You won’t surrender easily/
But fight until your final breath
because it is your nature to
Although you know you can’t beat death.
You know that one day you must die
but until then you choose to live
Just as you wish disgracefully.
01/09/09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Auntie Emmaline for Friend Leslie
Auntie Emmaline.
My cousin Peter was a prig.
A precious little Mamas boy.
Who thought it rather infra dig
a little mischief to enjoy.
He combed his hair and shined his shoes
and was polite to every one
I was quite pleased to hear the news
that he had just up and gone.
To live with a girl, Elsie Ma.
Who was no better than a whore.
It made me glad I have to say.
He’s not my rival anymore.
Nobody says that should I should be
just like Peter. Dear me no.
The rotten apple on the tree.
But what the family do not know.
Is that I arranged for them to meet.
I knew she would lead him astray
He had no chance at all poor Pete.
I don’t regret it in any way.
I’m sure that Peter has more fun.
Than if he had stayed safe at home.
Today he’s just another one
Who felt that it was time to roam.
Far from his mothers eagle eye
escape from under mothers thumb.
They were some things he had to try
and realised their time had come.
He was disowned immediately.
His name is never mentioned now.
Sometimes I meet him on the sly
I like him better now somehow.
Now that he’s not held up to be
the Icon I should emulate
To tell the truth he’s just like me
Although he found out rather late.
Though I appear respectable.
I have a wild streak which I hide.
My aunt finds me acceptable.
I think she would horrified
to know that I both smoke and drink
and chase young ladies ardently.
But things are seldom as you think.
I find that fooling her pleases me.
A good God fearing lady who
still believes whole heartedly.
That there are things one does not do
Quite blind to life’s reality.
29/10/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Lady in waiting.2011
I live alone, my family
and all my friends are long since gone.
There’s no one left who cares for me.
Others have problems of their own.
I’ve had my share of happiness
and known the depths of misery.
My life now seems to matter less.
So I am waiting patiently.
For death to come and set me free.
Each night I pray I will not wake..
I think that death’s forgotten me
just overlooked me by mistake.
I’d welcome death quite happily
but even deaths abandoned me.
Friday,18 February 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Grown men do cry
Old memories which linger still.
Can bring the tear drops to my eyes
Sometimes they take me by surprise
and cause my tears to freely spill.
I’m not afraid to say they do.
There is no reason I should be.
My memories both old and new
are an integral part of me.
Sometimes they’re tears of happiness
and I am smiling through my tears.
Though other tears recall sadness
that I have suffered through the years.
Old memories reminding me
of joy and sorrow equally.
Monday,09 November 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Fare you well
Fly free proud spirit on your way.
Towards the truth you sought to find,
No need to tarry or delay.
You know I’ll follow on behind.
The bonds of love death cannot break
For love will last eternally.
We’ll meet again make no mistake.
I will rejoin you presently.
We’ve lived and loved and died before.
I have no doubt we will again.
Each life we learn a little more
although each parting is a pain.
With my blessings go your way
until my call comes I must stay.
22/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Watch and Pray.
A baby who was born too soon.
Is struggling bravely to survive
Perhaps the Gods will grant the boon
we ask and let this tiny baby live.
For now we watch with bated breath
for any sign of progress made
with our support to fend off death.
We hope and pray she makes the grade.
We can but wait and hope and pray
There's nothing else that we can do.
Nature has the final say
She can make our dreams come true.
Nature can correct mistakes
Total faith is all it takes.
Sunday,31 January 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Silent Alarm for Friend David Threadgold
The darkness hosts a multitude
of atavistic memories.
which influence our attitude
Towards the things we cannot see.
The hunting owl which quietly
on noiseless wings seeks out his prey.
His night tuned eyes can clearly see
as if it was as bright as day.
Some see him as an enemy
and view his passage with alarm.
Although he’s acting naturally
with no intent to cause them harm.
Men fear the dark which seems to be
a breeding ground for ancient fears
embedded inescapably
in memories from their forebears.
Their fear of being eaten by
some marauding predator
which pounces on them from the sky.
Man will recall for evermore.
15-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Absolute truth.
We die a little every day.
Commencing with our first drawn breath.
It's what we learn along the way.
Prepares us to accept that Death.
Is not the end though we don't know.
What happens when we cease to breathe
Or where we are supposed to go.
Why is it that we choose to grieve?
When a loved one goes on ahead.
Perhaps we ought to celebrate
that they are free, but choose instead
To weep and wail and rail at fate.
When I die don't cry for me.
Instead be glad that I broke free.
You can be sure you'll follow me
As all must die eventually.
No one escapes this world alive
There's nothing we can do or say.
No matter how hard we may strive.
To alter this in any way.
Sunday,12 February 2012
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Stalker for M Lady Anita atina
The opalescent mists of dawn
within their luminosity.
Conceal a roe deer and her fawn
from idle curiosity.
But shutterbugs will wait all night
for such an opportunity.
To photograph for our delight
the kind of scene we seldom see.
Recording for posterity
with digital technology
invading family privacy.
I think perhaps forgivably.
There is no reason for alarm
this kind of stalker does no harm.
29-Apr-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Life Is Not Measured By Its Length
i know you know that life is not measured by its length
or its width
lest it simply becomes a piece of
cube
a matter of furniture
or even a block of wood
lest it becomes so ordinary
with a depth that you can measure
so easily
in truth life has nothing to do with numbers
first, second,
one, two and three and there you claim that you have life
life is quality my dear
it is giving your best shot
giving up
life for a reason for a cause for those you value most
for those you love
and then when all the reasons are lost
when all your loved ones left you
when there is nothing greater
to believe
when nothing is worth living anymore
i will ask you: where can life be?
there is none anymore
it has become a piece of junk
worth throwing
in your garbage can
or keeping it in dusty garage or the mezzanine
always hoping that someday
it may still be worth the stay
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I am still me.
I’m not the man I used to be
When in the first bloom of my youth.
Who had abundant energy
I must accept the awful truth.
As I grow old I realise.
I’m not the man I used to be
I have no choice but recognise.
I must conserve my energy.
It’s for the best quite probably.
I have to think before I act.
I’m not the man I used to be.
I can’t deny that simple fact.
I can do what I need to do
Though I must plan it carefully.
I am quite sure you feel it too.
I’m not the man I used to be.
Saturday,15 May 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Bereft for M lady Allison
Alone, alone, all, all alone
lost in a sea of misery.
Gone all the happiness I’ve known
because my love is gone from me
She did not volunteer to go.
When our call comes we have no choice
the only certainty we know.
When my call comes I shall rejoice
I know that you will wait for me.
Not even death can break our bond.
We swore to love eternally
until time ends and far beyond.
Without you there is nothing left.
I sit alone and weep bereft.
10-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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