Attaining Virtue
Attaining Virtue.
I climb up to the monastery
my sanctuary seeking Zen.
Find peace of mind again: I’m free
from all that troubles me. Until
I must descend the hill. Return
to where I earn my daily bread.
Where noise instead of quietness
begins to press. I can endure
of that I’m sure, my thoughts are pure.
I will not injure any man.
Because I’ve learned to tolerate,
accept my fate patiently.
27/07/2009
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Burmese style climbing rhyme
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Related quotes
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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I can and I will! !
Welsh Bardic form
Written in heptasyllabic (7 syllable) Quatrains
Line three cross rhymes with the central syllables of line four.
Lines one, two and four carry the main Rhyme
Rhyme pattern
XXXXXXa
XXXXXXa
XXXXXXb
XXXXb Xa
Example
There is no way I can know
Trials I must undergo.
This must be hidden from me
Lest I should be laid down low.
And see time as my mortal foe.
It is mete I should not know.
A mans future has to be
a deep mystery and so.
It was decreed long ago
No man is allowed to know
what his fate will come to be
in dire jeopardy or no.
The years will pass quick or slow.
Troubles come and troubles go
Insofar as I can see
Nobody is free to know.
I need no one to tell me so
We go where we have to go
Until we eventually
are allowed to see and know.
20-Dec-08
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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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I would if I could
Philosophers considering
the mysteries if the universe.
May seem to be woolgathering
or dozing off which would be worse.
But they are not: They’re deep in thought
Oblivious to reality
They contemplations of a sort
which is akin to fantasy.
Their thoughts are on a higher plane
I don’t pretend to understand.
Although they try they can’t explain.
So they dismiss me out of hand.
At least I work to earn my pay
I cannot sit and think all day.
13/05/2009
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Centred experimental form
Centred
The silence of the night profound.
Unbroken by the slightest sound.
Envelopes me.
Serenity envelopes me
From earthly worries I am free
Just for a while.
I can enjoy just for a while
a complete change from my life style.
No need to rush.
I am content no need to rush.
Sit quietly amidst the hush.
I still my mind.
Effortlessly I still my mind
and meditate until I find
my inner core.
When I have reached my inner core
I need not struggle any more.
I am at peace.
I realise I am at peace
when all my errant thought trains cease.
I can just be.
I understand I can just be
if only temporarily.
Then I must go.
An hour or two then I must go
back to the noisy world I know.
Reluctantly.
Surrendering reluctantly
the only time that I am free
to be just me.
21-Oct-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Here and There for M'lady Mary Gordley
To you they are pure fantasy.
To me they are reality,
So we are bound to disagree.
In worlds I visit frequently,
you can see dragons flying free.
But only if you have the key.
To open up your tight closed mind
to all the wonders you can find
when reality is left behind.
Try it out what can you lose,
travel anywhere you choose.
You have free will you can refuse.
But when I need a holiday.
I close my eyes and drift away.
7-Jun-08
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Back to my roots for friend Bob
The sun is setting on the sea.
It paints the restless waters red.
I sit alone solitary
and from my vantage point I see
The sky darken to indigo
I sit alone and watch night fall.
I choose to stay although I know
that duty calls and I should go.
Back to the harsh reality
I have to cope with every day.
The endless noise of the city.
With which I feel no empathy.
I must suppose I’ll always be
the country boy that I once was
But driven by necessity
I left my home reluctantly.
There was no future there for me
No way to earn my daily bread
Just endless grinding poverty.
A prospect which I chose to flee.
I was naïve and hopeful then.
I thought the city offered me
A better chance to start again
But sadly I was mistaken.
The hungry city swallowed me.
I found a job which paid my way.
A porter in a mortuary
The ultimate in irony.
I served the dead to stay alive.
But every hour that I was free.
I needed fresh air to survive.
I took my car and I would drive.
Out to the hill above the sea
to fill my lungs with fresh clean air.
And for a little while be free
from scents and sounds of the city.
I will retire very soon.
I think that I have earned the right.
To sit outside my door at noon
or if I choose to watch the moon.
I shall go back where I belong
Back to the open countryside.
Although I’m old I am still strong
I have no doubt I’ll get along.
Quite happily where I should be
I was not meant for city life.
I‘ll leave the city thankfully.
Retirement will set me free.
26/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Sense and Sensitivity 2010
Sense and sensitivity.2010
Big city life is not for me.
Too many minds impinge on mine.
Broadcasting thoughts quite randomly
that have no purpose or design.
the broadcast thoughts though unaware
that other people can receive.
I find such chaos hard to bear.
I must raise barriers to achieve
the peace of mind for which I yearn.
Leaves me no choice I must return
to rural life and peacefulness.
Though city life is not for me.
It may suit you admirably.
Saturday,03 July 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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It makes no sense.
A dog goes mad and is destroyed
A danger to society.
Why do we strive to avoid
the use of the death penalty.
Why do we pay to keep alive
a madman that we cannot cure.
It seems unjust he should survive
His victims didn’t that’s for sure
There is no cure for his disease
No chance at all he will be freed,
no way that he can earn release
He should be put down humanely
Why should he live in luxury?
with all mod cons provided free.
Saturday,05 December 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Conforming
I cannot unilaterally,
decide to do what pleases me.
How very easy life would be
if that was satisfactory.
Although it makes me furious.
I must confer, debate discuss
until it is unanimous.
I find it rather curious.
It seems your free will is not free.
Although you think it ought to be.
In order to live peacefully
as part of our society.
We have to voluntarily
place limits on our liberty.
05/11/2009
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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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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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Taboo
I find it rather curious
There are some things we don’t discuss,
not even with our closest friends.
As if our peace of mind depends
on the pretence that we won’t die.
Despite its crass stupidity
We know it is a certainty
but do not know the reason why.
Why is to talk of death taboo
.Except to the enlightened few.
Who believe that death is going to
set them free to start again.
Death is a door we all pass through
we should not fear it but we do
12-Dec-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Recession What Recession
Without the wherewithal to buy
I go without the food I need
whilst richer people overfeed.
I’m free to starve in poverty.
I must rely on charity,
does nothing for my self esteem.
Never in my wildest dream
did I realise that I could be.
Without a job without a home
.By circumstances forced to steal
but my hungers all too real.
A spell in jail would be welcome.
At least inside I would be fed.
Not root in dumpsters for my food.
I’d rather work as a man should
to earn my daily crust of bread.
My firm downsized and fired me
because their profit margins fell.
A matter of economy
consigning working men to hell.
The world is run by greedy men
who are obsessed with balance sheets.
So I may never work again
but live and die upon the streets.
13-Apr-08
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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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Intellectual Property
.
The copyright belongs to me.
Which I can prove quite easily
If you attempt to plagiarise.
You might well find to your surprise.
I will not hesitate to sue.
So think again before you do.
You will not get away scott free.
You cannot steal my property.
Such theft incurs a penalty
The Law provides a remedy
for those who claim dishonestly
that they have written it not me.
Are you prepared to pay the price
or wise enough to heed advice.
30/06/2009
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Life Review. fot J.T, Ellison
When you grow old as you must do
and you look backward to review.
The way that life has treated you
Where you have been, what you’ve achieved.
The blessings given and received.
a great deal more than you believed.
I think you find you are impressed
You know you’ve always done your best
and you have earned the right to rest.
No longer part of the rat race
You live your life at your own pace.
Perhaps you can accept with grace
When you conclude your life review.
You’ve done what you were meant to do.
05/09/2009
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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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Total Denial.
If the Messiah came again.
He would be certified insane.
Society could not possibly
allow him to preach and teach freely
I have no doubt he’d be confined
Because the powers that be would find.
That what he taught was dangerous
To every single one of us.
The rulers of the church and state
are not prepared to tolerate.
Any change to existing rules
which for years they’ve used as tools
To maintain the Status Quo
They do not want us all to know
They lack divine authority
They are not what they claim to be.
The guardians of morality
and keepers of the mystery.
They know the truth would set us free.
Of course they could not possibly.
Accept the fact that he might be
the ultimate authority.
They would decree that he must be
kept in protective custody.
No need for crucifixion.
Their method is a kinder one.
Keep him sedated constantly
which would work as effectively.
With no adverse publicity
Just dealt with bureaucratically.
We cannot say with certainty
The messiah is not presently.
Held in some institution
quite unknown to anyone.
Except perhaps the powers that be
Who act unjustly secretly.
08/08/2009
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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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