En.Citatepedia^®.ro

And Why not for M 'lady Tara

On the outskirts of the city
There’s a place that’s very pretty.
A semi rural paradise
for those who can afford the price.
A small elite community
where the norm’s eccentricity.
If you should choose to garden nude
your neighbours would not think you rude.
The watchword here is tolerance
It would not rate a second glance
From neighbours who were passing by.
Although some might wonder why.
You choose to garden in the nude
because you want to they conclude.

28-Jun-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Bare Facts.

.

The bride was totally undressed
The groom too had thought it best
To be nude on his wedding day.
The bride carried a small bouquet,

The best Man wore a beaming smile.
The bridesmaids too were in the nude.
Nude weddings have a certain style.
A very modern attitude.

The vicar too correctly dressed.
He wore a large pectoral cross.
We were all suitably impressed,
he had permission from his boss.

No need to buy a wedding dress
nor yet to hire a morning suit.
So the wedding cost much less.
Their economies had borne fruit.

They could afford a honeymoon
Though where they chose they would not say.
Bar that it cost a small fortune.
The savings they had made would pay.

The first wedding I have been to
Where nobody was overdressed.
and I have been to quite few.
I rate this as one of the best..

To prudes all nudity is rude
and so they chose to stay away.
Perhaps because they understood
their presence there would spoil the day.

Forgive me for this platitude.
They are entitled to their view.
I have a different attitude.
I was content to be bare too.

I wonder what the prudes conceal
Behind their vaunted piety.
What is it that they daren’t reveal.
Some hidden impropriety?

I do not think that being bare.
Is something that one should not do
I did not find it hard to bear
when everyone was naked too.

Each to his own I must suppose.
Whatever makes you comfortable.
Though usually I do wear clothes.
Sometimes nudity’s suitable.

Wednesday,17 March 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I am my own man for Jt Ellison

They say I’m mad but I don’t care
It’s merely eccentricity
If I was poor I would be mad
but I am not which makes me glad

I have my own psychiatrist
He thinks he knows much more than me.
He has delusions which persist
Which I encourage quietly.

So he advances theories
meant to explain what makes me tick.
Tries to diagnose some disease.
He cannot see I am not sick.

I did not choose to be a clone
accept opinions tailor made
He is a fool he should have known
That I would see through his charade.

I am not mad just different.
Simply because I choose to be
I go my own way quite content
Proud of my eccentricity.

12-Oct-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Pecadillo fo Friend Thad

My Guardian Angel is a prude
she has a pious attitude.
I have a little devil too
who tries to persuade me to do.
The naughty things which are more fun.
But when all is said and done
it’s up to me I have free will.
And in the end I’ll foot the bill.
If I should choose to go astray
I know there’ll be a price to pay.
But some sins are well worth the price
a small foretaste of paradise.
You know what I’m referring to.
I am quite certain that you do.

28-Apr-08
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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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Insanity Rules

Slip loose the moorings of your mind.
Freely embrace insanity
it’s freedom of a different kind
from mere eccentricity.
Once you have been certified
they don’t expect normality
You basic needs will be supplied
accommodation is rent free.
No need to rise unless you choose.
You have no need to earn your keep.
No knotty problems to confuse
your mind, which might disturb your sleep..
So why not choose to be insane.
You will lose less than you can gain.

01/05/2009 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Live and let live

A long abandoned grave yard lies
outside the city boundary.
It has become a paradise,
A well established sanctuary.

Unwanted pets turned out to roam
by cruel owners who don’t care.
Are welcome here to make a home
amongst their wilder brethren there.

beside the graves in disrepair
or in the brambles overgrown.
They are quite sure to find a lair,
some place that they can call their own.

Although the predators still prey
They’re only acting naturally
by following Dame Natures way.
They co exist quite happily.

Eat or be eaten is the law.
You will not get a second chance
for nature’s red in tooth and claw.
The price of life is vigilance.

At least they live free from fear
of mans unthinking cruelty
Few humans ever venture near
this abandoned cemetery.

13-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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0300 Dante on Mowing the Front Lawn

Let's not go into the matter of that
dark wood in our back garden which
shames us in the eyes of our
prissy neighbours (we call it
our 'poetic arbour', where
camelopards roam) -

mowing the lawn - that's all I can manage
between poetic stints:
it's hell when you put it off -
the wife, the pointed looks from
those prissy neighbours, the
pricks of social conscience, and
the guilt...oh the guilt...
sins of omission, all that stuff, I'm
in and out of the confession box...

then when I get round to it at last
it's purgatory - the grass is long,
gets in the rollers at the hub, it's
wet at the roots, tears when it should cut,
bald brown patches revealed -
the neighbours' children do their
'watch and pretend to hide their suppressed
laughter with a hand and a smirk' act... but

it's sheer (sheared?) paradise when
it's done and I can look the neighbours
in the eye and dare them to
make some pointed remark in
the guise of compliment - how I hate
this pre-modern irony, Juvenal started it...

all this to get a whiff of paradise...
and now it's just rained this morning and
the bloody grass looks unshaven
already... lawnmowing, it's just
one eternal round - look,
the neighbour's out already with his
swanky new machine; it's
a real human comedy

(thanks to Adam and The Poetry Society for the initial inspiration)

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Hard to bear. for M 'lady Tara

Moonlight on the water glimmers.
Highlighting the naked swimmers.
skinny dippers, just having fun
They do no harm to anyone..

It isn’t right the whingers cry,
who happen to be passing by.
It’s rude, it’s lewd, lascivious.
Perhaps because they’re envious.

They’d like to join in but don’t dare
display themselves completely bare.
Which probably is just as well
because as near as I can tell.

They’d add no beauty to the scene.
They’re grossly overweight: Obscene.
I have a different attitude
though I am old I am no prude.

If I was younger I would be
amongst them playing happily.
I used to enjoy swimming nude
I really wish that I still could.

Old age and disability
effectively preventing me
I cannot do what I used to do.
Though I can still enjoy the view.

27-Aug-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Pure prejudice

A prude regards all nudes as rude
unchanging in their attitude.
Which they perceive as rectitude.
A sign of their ineptitude
They cannot see as pulchritude
the naturalness of being nude.
The will allow no latitude,
just being bare to them is lewd.
It must be sad to be a prude.
Because they have misunderstood
that being nude need not be rude
It need be neither lewd nor crude
Reluctantly I must conclude
that once a prude always a prude.

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Quite Naturally for M 'lady Tai Chi Italy

My garden is a wilderness.
Devoid of all formality
but full of beauty nonetheless.
There everything grows naturally.

Self seeded plants grow where they please
with trees and shrubs placed randomly.
A haunt of butterflies and bees
and fairies too quite probably.

I do not choose to interfere
with what nature decides to do
She knows what plants will flourish here
but always subject to review.

She is a master gardener
superior to any man.
It is entirely up to her
to carry out her master plan.

There’s nothing that I need to do.
Nature supplies the maintenance.
As seasons change so does the view.
Always kept in perfect balance.

The only thing which I supply
are garden seats of weathered wood.
Chosen to blend in carefully
as I intended that they should.

Somewhere to sit and meditate
or if you choose, to read or write.
And sometimes if the hour grows late.
Enjoy the quiet of the night.

My garden is a wilderness
devoid of all formality.
Not the result of laziness
I leave it how it wants to be

26-Sep-08
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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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Ragbag Mind.

Sometimes I think I’m ignorant
at other times I know I’m not.
Though you may think I’m arrogant
I really do know quite a lot
A mass of trivialities
my mind has safely stored away
Odd peculiarities.
Exactly why I cannot say.
Just odds and sods of little use
in the hum drum of everyday.
I don’t know why mind should choose
what it will lose or what must stay.
I think that eccentricity
must be my speciality.

Monday,25 January 2010
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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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I am that I am for C.P.Sharma

I speak to those who choose to hear
To those who choose to see, appear
If you believe you will perceive
if you accept you will receive.
The blessings that I offer you
and in return I ask you to.
Attempt to love your fellow man.
It is not easy but you can
What does it matter black or white
all men are equal in my sight.
You have free will and you must choose
to listen to me or refuse
Be still and let the silence speak.
I am that for which all men seek

23-Dec-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Nude Artist

A Nude Artist

he says he is a nude artist
because he is naked when he paints

such nakedness has
nothing to do with being a nude artist

a naked artist who paints a cat or a chicken
is not a nude artist

there is no nude cat
thyere is no nude chicken

just paint a naked woman
and he will be called a nude artist

an artist is not an art
he must know that

- Frog Mantra, Accents Publishing,2012 -

poem by Suchoon Mo_
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Freedom of choice.

I see God as a neutral force.
A universal power source,
which everyone has access to.
To do the things they choose to do.
It can be used for good or ill
according to the users will.
But like any power source
there’ll be a price to pay of course.
Be very careful how you use
The power that you’re free to choose.
It’s your responsibility.
You cannot claim to be blame free
For what you freely chose to do.
You’ll foot the bill when it falls due.

Sunday,27 February 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I can.

Inverted hexaduadad.

I can
choose to be a man.
Stand tall upon my own two feet
Or to retreat.
The choice is up to me.
Though not quite free
I can’t refuse
I am compelled to choose.
What shall I do.
I will not change my view
I will be the best man
I can.

Saturday,10 July 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Abnormality

Abormality?

I suffer from a strange disease.
A most peculiar malady,
I do exactly as I please
I do not seek a remedy
I’m growing old disgracefully
it’s much more fun than being staid.
Revel in eccentricity.
I’ve no reason to be afraid
of what some people think of me.
All of the people I respect
accept a certain levity.
As for the rest I don’t expect
that they would dare not to conform
to what they perceive as the norm.

14-May-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Lament in A flat

A novice practicing scales
upon a battered violin
A raucous sound which never fails
to make my sick headaches begin.
I live above a music school
The rent was all I could afford.
I thought I’d scored, I was a fool
Although at least I’m never bored
I hear unwilling pupils play
strange sounds I cannot classify
as being music in any way.
Although I’m sure some pupils try.
I thank the lord the lord they close at eight
for silence I appreciate.

16-Sep-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Who stands with me?

True poets write in meter.
Not because they think it’s neater
but because the flow is sweeter
When their words are read aloud
as they perform before the crowd.
Their poems pass the acid test.

Prose writers do not choose to rhyme.
They see it as a waste of time.
Although their word choice is sublime.
Without meter it is prose,
not poetry as they suppose.
Their definition I contest.

Poetic prose it’s plain to see.
Can not be classed as poetry.
I can accept you disagree.
I know I have a biased view
I think I am entitled to
Decide which one I like the best.

I choose meter every time
Preferably with lines that rhyme.
I find such poetry sublime.
Though I enjoy well written prose.
Each to his own I must suppose
So write the way that suits you best.

I am old fashioned I admit
and not one whit ashamed of it.
I do not find rules inhibit.
Free expression of my views
They merely mean I have to choose
the words that will express them best

Free form, free verse, poetic prose.
Are methods other writers chose
as being fit for their purpose.
To rebel against fixed form.
Which was regarded as the norm.
Just to be different from the rest.

But fashions change and now free form
Must be regarded as the norm.
I see no reason to conform.
I choose to write my poetry
In the old way that pleases me.
A lonely voice raised in protest.

The wheel of fate will slowly turn
Metered poetry will return
and well deserved plaudits earn.
I hope I live to see the day.
when classic poets can display.
That fixed forms can outshine the rest.

Monday,06 December 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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