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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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Thinking of Holiday - Wishing our lives away
I’m on holiday – Time to play
Cannot believe it’s time
To relax and unwind
Never thought this amount of free time I will find
‘tis your turn my Manager said
Thanks for all your hard work
You deserve your break
Ensure you make the best thereof
Now I wish for time to stand still
These two weeks will be lived at a very slow pace
Cannot afford for the time to be wasted
We all work hard for our breaks
There’s work to be done at my house
What will I do – work, play or loaf
Loaf – I think is the best answer
Is this not why I’m on leave?
Five years I never had two weeks leave
All my leave used to be invested in studying
Completing my degree
But now all my time to me is free
Wishing our lives away
I know this – One morning I will awaken
Just to go back to work again
And I will realize that the best part of any holiday or leave
Usually is the looking forward to it
I will then work hard again
in great anticipation
of the next break away from work
the circle of our life’s
Is it not funny how we always require something
To look forward to
Always the next weekend, public holiday
Or annual leave, or a special day, maybe a birthday or such
In this way we all wish our lives away
Remember this I say – a small reminder to all
Focus on today
And in this way – so much more you will gain out of every moment
poem by Michael Knight
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Break Loose
I’m growing old disgracefully.
It is not eccentricity
but a decision I have made,
Though rules are meant to be obeyed
.
The time has come to be just me
and not the me you’d have me be.
Although perhaps you’ll fume and fuss
I do not give a tinkers cuss.
No keeping up appearances.
Seeking official clearances
to the things I want to do.
If you don’t like it you can sue.
No three piece suit and tie for me
I aim for comfort casually.
There’s no one who I need impress.
Removes the need to power dress.
What you see is what you get
I am quite real so don’t forget.
No man can say he is my boss
I cannot say I feel the loss.
Retired now completely free
to be the man I want to be..
I have no need to chase success
I never did I must confess.
I lived my life as I thought best.
I think I earned the right to rest.
I find that rest’s eluding me
and I have little time that’s free
It’s rather strange but now I find
I left the world of work behind.
I’m busier than I was before
I find that I am doing more.
More than I ever did at work
although I was not one to shirk.
Perhaps because I can refuse
to do the things of little use.
Which used to be required of me
by people in authority
of little use to anyone.
Not now those days are long gone
I’ve cast aside my public face.
The mask I used to keep in place.
So I can act disgracefully
and let whole world see it’s me.
So growing old disgracefully
Is much more fun than quietly
Just taking to my easy chair
and let the world forget I’m there.
There’s more to life than the TV
I want to live outrageously.
Its my intent to break the rules.
which rule the life of the poor fools.
Who think at sixty life is done.
Retirement is the time for fun.
I find I can enjoy each day
in doing things in my own way.
Take my advice and don’t think twice
retirement is very nice.
Cast off responsibility
grow old disgracefully like me.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Love
Oh how I wish I could save the times
that I have spent with you.
For if you leave I could take them out
and have them to review.
But since it is not the way things work
I must remember in my mind
All the times I could not save
and never leave any behind,
The times when we laughed, the times when we cried
and the times we just were still,
The times we embraced, the times we faced
when both of us were ill.
Not enough time is the time we have
and so it will run out.
So we must make them count and never forget
what we were all about.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Goodbye Blues for friend Marvin
When you are finding life too tough
and feel as if you’ve had enough
There’s only one thing you can do.
You must conduct a life review.
Weigh up the good against the bad.
Recall the good times that you’ve had,
I am quite sure if you reflect
although life is far from perfect.
I rather think that you’ll agree
if you reviewed things honestly.
Things aren’t as bad as they appeared
and find your blues have disappeared.
Expose your problems to the light,
when written down in black and white.
You can resolve them one by one
until the very last is gone.
Don’t leave them festering unseen
Just give your mind a thorough clean.
If you adopt this strategy
you’ll find it works immediately.
Your life takes on a rosy hue
because you’ve changed your point of view.
A simple change of attitude
is all you need to lift your mood.
26-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Dual Personality for C.P.Sharma
Dual Personality
Sometimes I try to concentrate.
My mind decides to deviate
and gaily goes its sweet way
Against my will I have to say.
Although I love to fantasise
I often find to my surprise.
My mind is playing tricks on me.
Accepting as reality.
Strange things which cannot possibly
exist outside of fantasy.
Perhaps my mind is free to go
to places that I cannot know.
Bound by my frame of reference.
To where there is no difference.
Reality and fantasy
can coexist quite happily.
Am I my mind? Is my mind me?
It seems to me quite possibly.
My mind does not depend on me.
An independent entity
which is quite free to come and go.
I am convinced it must be so.
Although I know I’m always me.
My mind remains a mystery.
Am I my mind? Is my mind me?
I ponder on it frequently.
It seems to work efficiently
but how it does still baffles me.
12-Oct-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work To Work
Happy too
Work...
Un happy too
work...
Love too
Woork...
With out love too
Work...
Silentely work...
Tenson to work...
Peace too work...
Diperession to work...
Work with work...
Any time do any
Work...
Work is give for
Human...
Relax and releave...
Sad too work...
Woory too work...
Work too work...
Work is wondrfully
Changed your and your's life
Each every day
Don't take un wanted rest
With your's lazey...
Lazy making
Sad... dipression...
Tenson...
Useless thinking...
So...
Work is wonder fully
Chnage to change for your's...
Mind and thinking and your's life...
Woo
Work to work with you
And other's...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Occupy Your Mind
(neil tennant / chris lowe)
Satisfy your reason
It will occupy your mind
Even when youre dreaming
Believe
Find another meaning
To determine what you need
Experience this feeling
And believe
Believe
In a world so confused
In a world so confused
In a world so confused
In a world so confused
Believe
Love will pierce the dark cloud
Of unknowing and reveal
All that you were dreaming
And believe
These communications
Will descend on you en masse
So what Im saying, baby
Is believe
Believe
In a world so confused
If you feel love refused
Believe
In a life so defined
You could find time
To change your mind
Believe
In a world so confused
If you find love refused
Believe
In a life so defined
You could find time
To change your mind
Believe
Occupy your mind and youll believe
Occupy your mind and youll believe
Occupy your mind and youll believe
Believe
In a world so confused
In a world so confused
Believe
Occupy your mind and youll believe
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Flexitime for Friend Denis joe
A blank faced clock which has no hands
must still obey Chronos’ commands.
The minutes pass without display.
Times moves on inexorably
the hours passing speedily
Today replaces yesterday.
Why are men obsessed by the clock
they measure every tick and tock.
What does it matter anyway?
we know that darkness rules the night
and that the day is filled by light.
Some time to sleep and work or play.
Avid clock watchers fail to see
that time can pass variably.
4-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Artefacts Reveal New Facts
This used to be a dwelling place
For members of the human race
Two thousand years or so ago.
The passing years have changed it though.
Today the archeologists
Seek to penetrate the mists.
There’s very little they can see
Which will support their theory.
The evidence lies underground
Buried; waiting to be found
By those equipped to recognise
a broken pot can be a prize.
Which might well prove they were correct
If they can find as they expect
Sufficient evidence to show
that humans dwelt here long ago.
If they are luck they will find
Amongst detritus left behind
Artefacts discarded by
The folks who used to occupy.
The houses that there used to be
Which formed a small community.
They are completely confident
.This was a stone age settlement.
The tools they found all made of stone
Except for needles made of bone.
No signs of metal to be found
Their reasoning seems to be sound.
I think that they have proved their case.
And added to their knowledge base.
I watch the time team on TV
And I am privileged to see.
The work of experts in the field
as they persuade the earth yield
the evidence for which they seek.
Each site they work on is unique.
Each find adds something to the store
Sometimes they find a great deal more.
Than what they can expect to find
They have to keep an open mind.
Sometimes great treasures can be found
Long buried in a funeral mound.
But mostly much more mundane things
a coin or two, brooches and rings.
Each find recorded carefully
Examined scientifically
The use of modern technology
can date the finds more accurately.
Than what they could do in the past
Some times the findings overcast.
Theories long held to be true
replacing them with something new.
I find the programme satisfies
My avid curiosity.
When can watch before my eyes
unfolding of a mystery.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Time to be,
Steal away quietly meditate
You can spare time enough. For a while
silently hide away. Contemplate
who you are, what you are thoroughly.
You may find peace of mind, leave behind
the pressures and distress easily.
All you need to succeed is concede.
You can fly if you try earnestly.
You will see, you can be really free.
12/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Money, Money
I work all night, I work all day, to pay the bills I have to pay
Ain't it sad
And still there never seems to be a single penny left for me
That's too bad
In my dreams I have a plan
If I got me a wealthy man
I wouldn't have to work at all, I'd fool around and have a ball...
Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich man's world
Money, money, money
Always sunny
In the rich man's world
Aha-ahaaa
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
It's a rich man's world
A man like that is hard to find but I can't get him off my mind
Ain't it sad
And if he happens to be free I bet he wouldn't fancy me
That's too bad
So I must leave, I'll have to go
To Las Vegas or Monaco
And win a fortune in a game, my life will never be the same...
Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich man's world
Money, money, money
Always sunny
In the rich man's world
Aha-ahaaa
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
It's a rich man's world
Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich man's world
Money, money, money
Always sunny
In the rich man's world
Aha-ahaaa
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
It's a rich man's world
It's a rich man's world
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Looking Back Upon My Poesy's Past!
For long a time, I've travelled by this road!
For quite some years, I'd taken poesy's wings;
For hours on end, I struggled with my pen;
A lifetime's work is already now writ!
I did not start expecting great rewards;
I do not hanker for any awards;
I know I'm one among the well-known bards;
My accolades are not yet in my cards!
Many a thing, we do for love of it;
Some things we do better, for we are fit;
Most things in life don't duly get lime-lit;
Nevertheless, we carry on by wit!
But seasons ought to change as time goes on;
It is not good to have always the sun;
Some things in life remain for long half-done;
But pride is one thing we must always shun!
Good poetry must guide the future men;
Good poetry must make the earth, heaven;
Good poetry must kindle heart and ken;
When readers read them, they must say, ‘amen! '
I have done well despite my struggles past;
This earthly span may not for longer last;
My ship of poesy has now a mast;
But I have reached the ocean very vast!
poem by John Celes
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Healing Hand for M lady Ernestine
I don’t conduct experiments
to prove established precedents
I try to keep an open mind
to things by science undefined.
I do accept telepathy
and other forms of ESP.
I see no reason to deny
Some may have this ability
Some heal by laying on of hand
a process no one understands
But one that works obviously.
The evidence is plain to see.
To see someone become pain free
when they have been in agony.
Though all the doctors are quite sure
that healers can’t provide a cure.
The patients know that healers do
that’s why the will not listen to
The scientists who cant believe
the cures that healers can achieve.
Sometimes alternate therapies
do work much more efficiently.
Than what the doctors offer you
Both you and I know this true
23-Dec-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Birthday Celebration
How strange it seems, that old age follows youth!
when all the world seemed one's own, at that time,
with time enough to seek a higher truth -
who'd guess the stairs so steep, so slow to climb?
Worn carpets and worn kneecaps are old age
- and yet, a blessed time for life of mind:
for those who wish, a different sense of wage;
free-chosen universal work to find;
and yet more blessed still: that earth-bound soul
to meet and greet, and work its soil and flowers;
to live with gratitude; and scan the whole
to find that One which proves the whole world ours.
As iron age yields to the gold of truth,
so our old age may find within, true youth.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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One step at a time.
I see no reason to be coy.
I was a baby long ago
and after that a little boy.
When all I had to do was grow.
I quickly grew to be a youth.
Certain that I knew everything.
But passing years taught me the truth.
I could be sure of just one thing.
The more I learnt the less I knew.
There was so much I did not know
and I had other tasks to do.
Things to see places to go.
We may not know what lies ahead,
such knowledge is forbidden us.
So we are forced to guess instead.
Perpetually curious.
I realised as I grew old.
That I must die eventually.
Leave my old body stiff and cold
And then at last I would be free.
Just how I knew I cannot say
but I believe it to be true
I grow more certain every day.
Although I KNOW no more than you.
I find it very comforting
to think that when this body dies.
At last I will know everything
with nothing hidden from my eyes.
Until I am reborn again.
Bereft of all my memories.
Knowing no more than other men
I learn again by slow degrees.
Bodies may die but I go on.
Blessed with immortality
Forgetting past lives which are gone
until I am what I should be.
A small part of the oversoul
Returned at last from whence I came.
A process I cannot control
but I must go through just the same.
When all are safely gathered in
and thus complete the oversoul
A new creation can begin.
Perfection is the final goal
.Tuesday,05 January 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Retirement
You work all your life and you wait for that special day
That you can retire, and dance the night away.
Anxiety and tension building Up in your chest.
You know you can’t control it But you do your very best.
Friends are gathering around you And they’re calling your name
You are now a short timer And they’re waiting for the same.
You think that you won’t have to Get up to the sound of the clock
But when you retire, there is no turning back.
For the first time in your life You are not on a time schedule.
To get up to that sound Wash up, get dressed, have a cup of joe.
And the weight in your legs Make you move very slow.
Your friends and co workers ask:
How can you leave them all behind?
You look at them and smile For you know they’ll all be fine.
You’ve worked together for many a year
Good times, bad times, you all have shared.
But it’s time for you to go your way You have to leave, you can not stay.
So many things that you want to do And to your heart you must be true.
So you work your final day and Get comments from everyone you know.
You will count the hours leading to the end
For you know that they have become family and very close friends.
That will be the hardest part, because memories can not be erased.
Especially when you have friends, who have style and grace.(Hmmm I wonder.)
RETIREMENT-hmmmm-is it all it’s played out to be!
Or is it just plain LAZZZ-EEE?
WELL! I’ll take the laziness any time. Ha-ha
poem by Louis Rams
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A Cushy Billet.
Lunatic sonnet.
Psychiatrists have labelled me,
In doing so have set me free
From all responsibility.
I need not worry any more.
All of my needs are catered for.
I laugh until my sides are sore.
Although they keep me close confined.
To tell the truth I do not mind.
I left my troubles all behind.
When I was certified insane
I lose much less than what I gain.
I need not ever work again.
I live in idle luxury
My every want provided free.
Monday,15 August 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Thankless Task.
Thankless Task.
Death never takes a holiday.
He has too long a waiting list.
He has to work twelve hours a day.
Because we humans will persist.
In fighting wars for no good cause.
We cannot learn to live in peace
We always think that sheer brute force
Will overcome our enemies..
It seems that we will never learn
violence begets violence
and hatred will hatred return
We seem bereft of moral sense.
When friendship can pay dividends.
Why human beings choose to fight
Make enemies instead of friends.
When they could do the opposite,
Death never takes a holiday.
Although really needs a rest..
He has to work twelve hours a day.
He has good reason to protest.
Perhaps when the last man dies.
Then death can take a holiday.
He will rejoice at our demise.
And who could blame him anyway.
Thursday,25 March 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Why Time Flies
When times are boaring (BORING]
Then put the mind to work
Or better yet, ya bet
Hands & Mind, or Hands-Feet-Mind
All together - Work
Becoming a writer - or anything -
Put the mind to work, then go to work.
When relaxing - be at ease
Allow time to breath and breath deeply.
It's like someone said
'smell the roses before you're dead! '
Enjoy the 'Now' for what it is! ! ! !
Not what it should have been
Or what could have been.
And allow others to see things
Through their own eyes.
See How Time Flies?
poem by John E Laipple
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