Addiction for M lady Kim
Addiction
I’ll exercise self discipline.
Today I will not write a word.
I have decided it’s no sin.
This constant scribbling’s absurd.
I choose a book and start to read
but then some phrase enraptures me.
Quite suddenly I feel the need
I have to write and urgently,
Before my train of thought is lost
I find my pad take up my pen
and writing in the style of Frost.
I find I’m scribbling again.
My muse cannot contain her glee.
She knows that she’s in charge not me.
20-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Help Wanted
I am compelled, perhaps obsessed.
Would be a better choice of word.
My muse allows me little rest.
She is convinced that she know best
No matter how much I protest
She insists she has the right
To make me write by day and night.
I sometimes feel I am possessed
Although the idea seems absurd.
My judgement marred by lack of rest
I find reality is blurred.
I’m sure my muse abuses me
I’m tired of her tyranny.
I really think that it would be
Better if she left. Undeterred
She still insists that she knows best.
And acts as if she hasn’t heard.
That poets can dismiss their muse
When they are guilty of abuse.
I’m sick of being under stress
Although I would have much
preferred not to cause my muse distress
She pretended she misheard.
When I told her we were through
It was the only thing to do.
I did not like her attitude.
But now I am without a muse.
Although I have some aptitude
I must arrange some interviews
I will be careful when I choose
Some muse to fill the vacancy.
A muse that will not bully me.
Monday,17 October 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A matter of form for friend leslie
Consistency and symmetry
combined with meter seem to be
Ingredients of good poetry.
Though modernists will disagree.
They take a different point of view.
Convinced that anything will do
That writers need not follow rules
and those who do they see as fools
Consider rhyming is a crime
and meter just a waste of time.
But can this kind of writing last?
like that of poets from the past.
I don’t dispute they have the right
to choose the way in which they write.
Poetic prose can be divine
but not if it lacks discipline.
Your writing must be coherent.
A well established precedent
If what you write does not make sense.
What can be said in its defence?
If readers cannot comprehend
the message which you try to send
Because your meaning is not plain.
Perhaps its time to think again.
And realise there must be rules.
A craftsman has to know his tools.
If he does not then he will fail
his efforts all to no avail.
Some readers will choose poetry
and others prose preferably
It is your reader’s right to choose
to read your writings or refuse.
If you don’t cater to their needs
don’t be surprised if no one reads.
If how you write is too obscure.
Then change your style. The only cure.
30/06/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Scribbles Transcribed
Some write for glory and for fame.
I write because I am obsessed
and wordplay is my favourite game.
I concentrate on poetry
Because I find it to my taste
and pass my time creatively.
I could not sit and watch T.V
and live my life vicariously.
That would drive me to insanity.
I have a wide vocabulary
which I love to exercise
Harmless but it amuses me.
What better way to pass the time
than writing formal poetry
I do not find it hard to rhyme
I’ll never be a household name
Which does not bother me at all.
I write for fun and not for fame.
My writing will not make me rich
I very rarely publish it
I merely write to scratch my itch.
My pad and pen accompany me
No matter where I choose to go
Though I scribble illegibly.
Record what takes my interest
and jot down anything I see.
When I get home I do my best.
To read the jottings I have made
which is sometimes difficult
as pencilled words tend to fade.
I find that if I persevere
for long enough I understand
enough to make it very clear.
I sometimes wish that I could write
In a clear and cursive script
If I had perhaps I might.
But I am too impatient to write
All of down the things I want to
My scribbling will have to do.
Thank God for printers and P.Cs
So when I post its legible
and you can read my verse with ease.
The feed back which you give to me.
I read with greatest interest.
And it improves my poetry.
My hand writing will never be
capable of being read
by anybody else but me..
(18-Jun-07)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A matter of opinion.
Some people say I am perverse
because I choose to write in verse.
The kind of stories I compose.
They think I ought to write in prose.
They have the right to I suppose.
But I won’t do as they propose.
I much prefer to write in verse
Because I think there’s nothing worse
Than badly written boring prose.
That is the reason why I chose.
To concentrate on rhyming verse.
I see no reason to reverse.
My original decision
to conform to your opinion.
I do not choose to write in prose
I am convinced that I would lose.
My rhyming capability
reducing my ability.
To write my words spontaneously.
I don’t expect you to agree.
Although I am compelled to write.
You’re free to exercise your right
To read or not as you choose to.
Though I confess I hope you do.
I know I can’t please everyone.
That is something that can’t be done
By any writer though they try
A truth no writer can deny.
Your comments are of interest
they spur me on to do my best.
We can agree to disagree
on which is best quite easily.
A poet must choose poetry.
But other writers are quite free.
to share their thoughts written in prose
Because they choose to I suppose.
If you should doubt my competence.
I will not choose to take offence.
You are entitled to your view
Please remember I am too
Sunday,02 May 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Freedom. Ivorian sonnet
Because some people disagree
about the rules of poetry.
There’ll always be some argument.
Nobody can define the rules
which leads to widespread discontent.
Some cannot understand it seems,
that every poet has the right.
To choose the way they share their dreams
in any form they choose to write.
I say each poet should be free
to write the way they want to write.
In metered verse with rhyming schemes
or try some new experiment.
No one can dictate how you write.
Wednesday,16 June 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A matter of choice for M'Lady Indira
Some take their writing seriously
Whilst others are just dilettantes
Though my muse states imperiously,
that I must write the way she wants
The duties writers undertake
are manifold and various.
They have to write make no mistake
on subjects light or serious.
They know it is their duty to
deflate the self important fools.
Who in their ignorance pursue
a vain attempt to scrap all rules.
Discard the lessons of the past.
Insisting anything will do.
A fashion I am sure wont last
when readers can compare it to.
Fine verse that stood the test of time.
The glories of formality
by masters of meter and rhyme.
Which they left for posterity.
Though I concede all have the right,
to write in any way they choose.
To some free form is sheer delight.
All down to taste I must suppose.
26-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Power Failure
Tonight I write by candle light
I am forced to by circumstance
Although the light is not too bright
I find that it gives me a chance.
To compare my life style today
with what I recall from my youth.
Reluctantly I have to say
If I should tell the honest truth
The simple life of yesteryear
may be a pleasant memory.
I much prefer my life today.
I need a brighter light to see
Advancing years have dimmed my sight
I dote upon electric light.
21-Nov-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Writers Block-Poppycock
I think that there will never be
A lack of wonders we can see.
For those of us prepared to look
in mother natures own scrap book.
We have the time to stand and stare
at beauty we find everywhere.
A flower where it should not be
inspires us to write poetry.
We poets are a special breed
and poetry fulfils our need.
To share the beauty we can see.
We choose our language carefully.
Creating images to share
with anybody anywhere.
Monday,26 July 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Fixed routine.
I always choose to take this way
This quiet path leads to my door,
Today as every other day.
I have no fear that I may stray.
I see no reason to explore.
I always choose to take this way.
Here sun and shadow interplay
Creating shapes not seen before.
Today as every other day.
The song thrush sings his roundelay.
I feel my jaded spirits soar
I always choose to take this way.
Though I could choose another way
I am aware of two or more.
Today as every other day.
It adds some pleasure to my day
a feeling I have known before.
I always choose to take this way
Today as every other day.
Wednesday,10 November 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Tutorial for David de Santis
I read some poetry today
by long dead poets from the past,
which I enjoyed I have to say.
Their golden words were meant to last
.
Though they long since returned to dust.
The legacy they left behind
for poetry students is a must.
It is as if they were designed.
To act as templates we can use
as we learn to write poetry
It would be foolish to refuse
to benefit from history.
So find a poet you admire
from the past or present day
You might just find his works inspire
you to write a different way.
Experiment with every kind,
free form, free verse, formality
then in due course you’re sure to find
which one of these is your forte
The time you spend to learn the rules
is one investment you must make
Like any trade you need the tools,
Before you can attempt to make
your claim to be a master bard.
The road to fame is long and hard
with very little cash reward.
you have to try, no one is barred.
30-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A touch of Frost for Friend Thad
From my library shelf I took
by random choice a poetry book.
I thought to while some time away
to brighten up a boring day
It chanced to be by Robert Frost
and I was hooked completely lost
I finished the anthology
and found his words inspired me
I had to try and see if I
could find the words to satisfy
the need I felt to emulate.
This poet who could clearly state
in his own style of poetry.
His own home spun philosophy.
28-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Ebenezer Shillingtree.R.I.P
I sit and muse amongst the tombs.
Only disturbed by sonic booms
as fighter planes pass overhead.
A noise enough to wake the dead.
The dead do not agree with me.
Continue sleeping peacefully.
Planes interrupt my train of thought
I cannot get the peace I sought
I seek peace in this cemetery
So I can write my poetry
The dead don’t question what I do.
Perhaps they might do if they knew.
Their headstones can inspire me
I use their strange names shamelessly.
18-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Grin and Tonic for M 'lady Marilyn
I sometimes have a jaundiced view
when I survey the world today.
I have to pause and look anew
to try to see a different way.
It all depends on upon my mood.
The way in which I choose to see
and my prevailing attitude.
So in the end it’s down to me.
I wear an artificial smile
which will conceal the way I feel.
But oddly in a little while
I find my smile becoming real.
What I pretended has come true.
It works for me: why mot for you.
01/05.2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Book
If I write a book,
Would I approach
You to write its
Review?
Why?
If my book is
Worth reading,
Wouldn't you be
Tempted to write
Its review?
Why should I
Use you for its
Marketing and
Publicity?
If you like my book,
You'll yourself feel like
Sharing with everybody
It's an instinct
That comes
Naturally…
We believe in
Loving and giving,
And so if we genuinely
Like something,
We'll recommend it
Or choose it for gifting
So if I write a book,
I'll never beseech you
To write its review
I would rather wait
For you to feel free
To read it and perhaps
Write its review…
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Poet 2 Poet
We all have different writing styles, and we
May not all have grace and poise.
But when we do write, it’s all to make some noise.
We want to be recognized by the co-poets
All fair and true.
For writing our poetry is what we all like to do.
So I welcome all my co-poets who take this beautiful ride
And all their dreams and visions, they do find.
We do not only write what comes into our minds
But we write from the heart
And this is where poetry gets its start.
So continue to write all that you see and feel
Because these are human emotions.
That from us, no one can steal.
WELCOME ABOARD THIS TRAIN OF POETRY.
poem by Louis Rams
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Well suited
I feel no need to power dress
No longer trying to impress.
My style today is casual
What you see is what you get
and I confess to no regret.
Today I can be comfortable/
I need not wear a shirt and tie
and try to act impressively.
I find it rather comical.
When I observe young men today
trying hard to make their way.
It’s not at all unusual.
For them to think they know it all
But pride oft goes before a fall
and sadly that is typical
When we are young we foolishly
we must dress fashionably
So that we seem acceptable.
Now that I’m old I do not care
If no one likes the clothes I wear
I dress to suit myself not you
it is my right and so I do.
25-Mar-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I am a man!
I am a man full grown.
I have the right to choose
To make my way alone
What have I got to lose? .
If I refuse to do
as you expect me to.
I owe nothing to you
I will choose my own way.
Today and every day
I am man, my own man
Friday,05 March 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Accidental Insults
Although I write mainly for me.
I choose to share my poetry.
With other poets on the net.
The only thing that I regret.
Sometimes I find I have upset.
Somebody inadvertently.
Albeit unintentionally.
I can only apologise
For bringing teardrops to their eyes.
Though I am taken by surprise.
By what they read into my words.
I often find it quite absurd.
They take offence at what I write.
They see it in a different light.
And choose to take the opposite.
view. Because they fail to understand.
They then dismiss me out of hand.
As they have every right to do.
Because sometimes I've chosen to.
Criticise what they hold true.
I do not mean to cause offence
I offer this in self defence.
The words I write, you filter through
Experiences peculiar to you.
That's why you read them as you do.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Seeds of Doubt
“To tell the truth” invariably
precedes the telling of a lie.
It reeks of insincerity
and always makes me wonder why.
You think that I might doubt your word
although I have no reason to.
I find this prefix quite absurd
to me it never does ring true.
I do not doubt your honesty
nor do I think that you doubt mine.
This prefix is a travesty
which only serves to underline.
The seeds of doubt you sow in me.
Which were not there previously.
05/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Either Or for Friend Thad
A thought has just occurred to me.
When someone claims a victory
then someone else suffers defeat.
A simple thought that is complete.
You either win or else you lose,
there is no alternative to choose.
Acceptable when it’s a game.
A fleeting bid for some small fame.
Transfer it to the battleground,
this simple thought becomes profound.
You win you live, you lose you die.
That is the harsh reality.
Until we find a better way
then men on other men will prey.
7-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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