Delayed Justice Story poem
I fear no foe that I can see
but rather those who strike by night
They cloak their acts in secrecy
because they cannot stand the light.
I made a powerful enemy
when I was young and in my prime.
Who swore to take revenge on me.
I know somewhere he bides his time.
My friends think I am paranoid
obsessed with high security.
Though it is better to avoid
Any and all possibility.
Of course I cannot validate
my fear of a conspiracy.
It doesn’t matter it’s too late.
I fear my foe has poisoned me.
His plans were made with subtlety.
He has corrupted some close friend
Some one I trusted utterly.
I should have known you can’t defend.
Against all possibilities.
I tried my best but I have failed.
Too many opportunities.
It seems my enemy has prevailed.
News of my death will prompt release
of documentary evidence.
To the world press and the police.
Negate his claims of innocence.
To show the world just what he was.
In the dark days of Nazi rule
Unpublished until now
because I hesitated like a fool.
I had sufficient evidence
to have his history reviewed
and to expose his false pretence.
But was not confident I could.
prove his guilt beyond all doubt.
Until I found the final clue.
Somehow he managed to find out
about what I planned to do.
He was convinced nobody knew
About the research I had done.
Which in effect was quite true.
I much preferred to work alone.
He wanted to be rid of me.
and though his plan met with success.
I will defeat my enemy
The fact I’m dead is matterless.
He sought revenge I sought justice
His is a pyrrhic victory.
I have ensured he’ll pay the price.
for his past sins and cruelty.
The proof of his identity
at least of who he used to be
Will stand up to close scrutiny
He’s not the man he claims to be.
A Jew who managed to survive.
he stole a new identity.
And some how managed to contrive
to convince every one but me.
Though he is held in high respect.
because of his ability
There is no way he can protect
his reputation for honesty.
Although I chose to work alone
The papers that I leave behind
Will show the truth to everyone
He was in fact a mastermind
of the final solution.
Which brought about the Holocaust.
There can be no absolution.
He freely chose he was not forced.
Unlike the wretches that he killed
because he had the power to.
His twisted dreams could be fulfilled.
do anything he wanted to.
I was not fooled I could see through
the lack of continuity
and spent my life determined to
destroy his false identity.
He thought if he was rid of me.
He would be safe no one doubt
the truth of his false history
But very soon he will find out.
He has not heard the last of me.
There is no way he can deny
The truth of his identity
Although the world may wonder why.
He was allowed to get away
with his charade so easily
But in the chaos of those days
he was not checked sufficiently.
The time has come when he must face.
A different reality
of opprobrium and disgrace.
It had to come eventually
Although he tried to live a lie.
Fate had other plans in mind
The clues I needed she’d supply
Though they were difficult to find.
I was obsessed I had no choice.
It seemed that fate had chosen me
to give unnumbered dead a voice.
Which I have done quite obviously.
I won’t be here to celebrate.
He was a step ahead of me.
but he had left it far too late.
I claim the final victory.
Friday,13 November 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A pinch of Salt
A title does not signify
you are in fact a gentleman.
Aristocrats can cheat and lie
as readily as any man.
alleged degrees don’t guarantee
that you possess intelligence
They can be purchased easily
by those who lack the common sense
To know that titles and degrees
although intended to impress.
Are counterfeit as currencies
which are in fact quite valueless.
You can’t expect to get respect
because you a titled man.
I see no reason to accept
your claim to be a gentleman.
Some people are fooled easily.
Accept your claims at face value
but some are wise enough to see
that what you claim may not be true.
A scholar and a gentleman
is not too hard to recognise.
I’m’ sure you will find that you can.
If you just use your ears and eyes.
Do not be fooled by their pretence.
The claims they cannot verify
Rely upon your common sense
The inner voice you can’t deny.
Why should you show them your respect.
They show but small respect for you.
Its wiser to be circumspect
until they prove their claims are true.
13/07/2009 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Illogicality
In the beginning was the WORD.
So we are told but not who spoke
Which seems to me to be absurd.
I m forced to treat it as a joke.
No one to speak no one to hear
Which seems to be improbable
and fails to satisfy I fear.
I find it to be impossible
I would prefer a logical
explanation, I can
believe just might be true
But fairy stories will not do.
I’m sceptical, I need proof.
I can’t accept on faith alone
That what we’re taught must be the truth.
I think the truth remains unknown.
I can respect what you believe
I only ask you do the same.
Because I happen to perceive
A different start to the game.
Who was it spoke from whence came he?
Who created the creator.
Was he in fact pure energy?
that sprang from some stars molten core.
I only know I do not know
and I refuse to speculate.
About what happened long ago.
I am content to indicate.
I don’t believe, don’t even try.
I cite the lack of evidence.
The theory seems to fly
Into the face of common sense.
Although I do not claim to be
anything but a simple man
I must reject entirely
The claims of those who say they can.
Teach the truth because they know.
It must remain a mystery
They have no evidence to show
They have divine authority.
I’m sceptical and cynical.
I have a brain that I can use.
I am convinced it’s logical
to be determined to refuse
to accept what I was taught.
By those who know no more than me.
Although my teachers think I ought.
I will rebel instinctively
Friday,20 November 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Vengeance delayed storypoem
My country taught me how to kill
and when I had sufficient skill
I was recruited secretly
to serve a special agency.
My given task was to erase
any who opposed our ways
at home abroad where I was sent
To which I gave my free assent.
I slowly came to realise
I could not always recognise.
My target as an enemy.
Suspected they were using me
Though I had little evidence.
Some missions seemed to make no sense
I was expected to obey
my instructions come what may/
My duty was to do or die
I had no right to question why
There was no way I could resign
or else the next death would be mine.
I had known other colleagues die
quite frequently Now I knew why.
I was convinced my turn would come
Because a dead man will stay dumb.
I chose instead to disappear.
Create a new life far from here.
Although I killed for my country
I’m certain they will search for me.
They are afraid that if I chose
their dirty secrets to expose.
They have no means of stopping
me whilst I remain at liberty
They would much rather I was dead.
I have a price upon my head.
So I have planned accordingly
If they succeed in killing me.
My story will be given to
the press who will know what to do
.I’ll take revenge posthumously.
on liars who exploited me.
22/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Silent Eloquence for M lady Dee Daffodil
They say dead men do not tell tales.
This once was true but not today
Forensic science rarely fails.
Technology has shown the way.
We re-examine evidence
long thought to be of little use.
Our scrutiny is so intense,
that criminals are bound to lose.
Although they think they’re free and clear.
No one can tie them to their crime,
we’re dogged and we persevere.
We do not rush, we take our time.
Some criminals who still walk free
will soon discover that we can
prove their guilt indisputably.
In variably we get our man.
We have the latest gadgetry
we can recover D.N.A
from tiny fragments easily.
Eventually then you will pay.
The full price for your evil deed
although you think you’ve got away.
We will persist til we succeed.
We’re on your track and there we’ll stay.
We’ll forge a chain of evidence
that proves your guilt beyond all doubt
Then you will pay for your offence.
As in due course you will find out.
When you are brought before the court
No doubt you will plead not guilty.
You aren’t as clever as you thought.
You thought you’d got away Scott free.
Although Dame Justice may be blind.
She is prepared to listen to
any evidence we can find.
That pins the blame squarely on you..
Dead men can speak eloquently
and do when we investigate
assisted by technology
You can’t escape it is too late.
23-Jan-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Job Well Done
Quiescent now for many years.
I never thought to feel again.
The hunting instinct which now stirs.
An urge I must try to restrain.
My conscience is reminding me.
I have retained my hunting skill
Which I could employ usefully.
In hunting those prepared to kill.
Without remorse and randomly.
To satisfy some twisted lust.
Though not the man I used to be.
I have decided that I must.
Identify the latest one.
But acting unofficially.
I much prefer to hunt alone.
No petty rules to hamper me.
I’ve studied very carefully
the clues the killer left behind.
Such killers act predictably.
Which makes them easier to find.
I do not have to justify
my actions in a court of law.
It is my judgement he must die.
Make certain that he kills no more.
I’ll leave sufficient evidence.
To prove his guilt beyond all doubt.
I have not lost my confidence.
That sins will always find you out.
Though I hide my identity.
It is an act of self defence.
It also means that I am free.
From any outside influence.
No lawyers claiming innocence.
No bleeding hearts to plead his cause.
In truth he has no real defence.
I execute him for just cause.
The city can now sleep in peace.
The killer’s dead as he should be.
I think that I deserve release
From my self appointed duty.
I will return from whence I came.
Adopt my true identity.
Certain no one knows my name.
Ensuring my security.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The best laidplans gang aft agley Storypoem
I planned her demise carefully
I was quite sure that it would be
accepted as an accident.
Which left me looking innocent.
I thought I had made no mistakes
but I made one that’s all it takes.
One single shred of evidence
destroyed my claim to innocence.
I should have sued for a divorce
that would have been the wisest course.
Though it would not have satisfied
the hatred festering inside
Caused by the mental cruelty
to which she had subjected me
So I devised the perfect plan
to rid myself of this woman.
My only thought revenge is sweet.
I truly thought in my conceit
That I would get away Scott free.
But fate had other plans for me.
My home is temporarily
a hospital I am not free.
I can still smile I am content
her punishment is permanent.
I was adjudged incompetent
of forming murderous intent
The lawyer who defended me
convinced the judge successfully.
That though I caused my wifes demise
I was too ill to recognise
That killing her would be a crime.
My mind abnormal at that time.
I have no reason to complain
I know that I am not insane
That very soon the powers that be
will certify my sanity.
Although my plans went all awry.
The price I pay is not too high
At last I am well rid of you.
It was well worth it in my view.
18/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Unintentional Conclusion
My time has come perhaps to die.
I will not give in easily.
Though I can guess the reason why
Someone’s been hired to silence me
I am no longer in the game
I have retired quietly
I thought nobody knew my name.
I was mistaken obviously.
I’m not a fool I know the score.
I must kill him or he’ll kill me
It does not matter any more
someone has breached my secrecy.
I know he’s out there watching me.
Observing my daily routine,
he seeks an opportunity
make his killing quick and clean.
A single shot that’s all it takes.
A job he has been paid to do
I can’t afford to make mistakes.
Though he’s already made a few.
He does not know I am aware.
He pits his skill against my skill
and if he did I would not care
He has a contract to fulfil.
He has been paid and must succeed
to keep his reputation.
There’s no excuse which he can plead
for failure of completion.
Unless he dies by accident.
It is quite likely that he may.
In fact I am quite confident.
A stranger who has gone astray
and lost his footing carelessly
To fall five hundred feet or more
into an unforgiving sea.
To be cast up along the shore.
Nothing at all to do with me
Another loser in life’s game.
I will change my identity
and move my home base just the same.
I’m rather sad I liked it here
I’d settled in quite happily.
I think it best to disappear
Now that I know they’re on to me.
I can’t escape from my dark past
they’ll track me down eventually.
Though as the peaceful years rolled passed.
I hoped they had forgotten me.
I should have known they don’t forgive
Although I acted honourably
they can’t afford to let me live.
My past employers my country.
I know too much they don’t want known.
They’re not prepared to take a chance
That all their secrets might be blown.
That’s why I’m dying here in France
No one will guess the reason why
and aging Englishman was shot
by accident apparently.
My masters know that it was not
I kept the faith true to my word.
Their secrets were quite safe with me
To think I’d speak was quite absurd.
They should have had more faith in me
This is my only legacy
there’s nothing else that I can leave
The records I kept accurately
were not intended to deceive.
You have a choice you can believe
all that my masters will deny
I don’t believe they can survive
such negative publicity.
Its truly not revenge I seek
I want to set the records straight
My confessions are not unique
all countries employ men like me.
To carry out nefariously
Our orders which originate
but are transmitted secretly.
From high officials of the state.
We are the willing tools they use
to influence affairs of state.
But they distrust us then they choose
To silence us before too late
They think they’ve won but they have lost
Memoirs published posthumously
Will prove to them there is a cost
They could have simply trusted me
Now I am dead I can confess
the things I did for my country
and open up the whole damn mess
to closer public scrutiny.
They will plead state security
and claim their actions justified.
That’s why they murder men like me.
Because we can prove that they lied.
Our leaders thrive on secrecy.
Which they maintain at any cost.
They have no hint of decency
all sense of honour has been lost.
They practice rank dishonesty
in order to achieve their ends.
They lie both to the enemy
and to their allies and their friends.
When I decided I would not
obey their orders any more.
The verdict was I should be shot
There was no way they could restore.
The naïve trust I used to show.
My faith in their morality
because by then I’d come to know
Their corrupt veniality.
I am beyond their punishment
I’ll answer to a higher court
who will examine my intent
A court where justice can’t be bought.
Though I will plead in my defence.
That I was young and truly thought
that those I held in reverence
were Just men of the finest sort
When I discovered they were not.
My conscience would not let me stay.
Which left me in awkward spot
they would not let me break away.
Though I escaped they followed me.
I knew they would that’s why I ran.
evading them successfully.
But I became a hunted man.
I knew in time they would find me
That’s why I wrote my last report
My memoirs are my life story
non fiction of a different sort.
Although they’ll try they won’t suppress
the facts and figures I reveal.
The hidden truths which I express
are part and parcel of the deal.
To gain the most publicity
upon the international scene
Published simultaneously.
The Memoirs of a Dead Has Been.
Will hit the headlines every where.
The printers sworn to secrecy
The books are stockpiled here and there..
My masters should have trusted me.
A quiet life was all I asked
I did not seek publicity
But now they’ll find their selves unmasked.
Because they tried to silence me.
29-Dec-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Fantasy or Fact? for friend C.P Sharma
I am not dead nor do I live.
I hover somewhere in between
No explanation I can give
will prove to be sufficient to.
Describe exactly how I feel.
I long to stay but want to go.
To who or what do I appeal?
I am confused I do not know.
When I return to consciousness
and find I am myself again.
Gone is the sense of timelessness.
I am content and free from pain.
I knew deaths door was open wide
but knew my family needed me.
I did not choose to step inside.
It could have been a fantasy.
I’m sure some few will understand
but only those who have been there.
Most will dismiss it out of hand.
Though not because they do not care.
They simply cannot comprehend
they lack the sensitivity.
To know that death can be a friend
who is prepared to set you free.
But in the end the choice is yours.
It is your life you must decide
which would be the better course.
To just give up or to abide.
I don’t remember which I chose
but obviously I am still here.
I must have chosen I suppose.
But on that point I am not clear.
I can remember vividly
The doctors crowding round my bed
Whilst I was floating happily
and watching from above their heads..
Fantasy or reality
I do not know but I am sure
That it has wrought a change in me
that’s permanent and will endure.
No longer will I fear to die.
I know that death is not the end.
I am quite sure but know not why.
My enemy is now my friend.
I know that death will set me free
When my time comes then I will go
Released from my earthly body.
Towards a future I can’t know.
22/10/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Nirvana
Tracing the primordial culture of truth
in its oneness, we find the ultimate answer.
Still the negative effect prevails
increasing the confusion.
Existence in now, has a travesty of truth.
Can we breakaway from our past?
Can we exist between right and wrong?
Between good and evil?
Between truth and fiction?
How many faces has reality?
The Self amalgamates the formulations
provides the mind with the safe exits.
The visualization
was not a happening, not actuality
an escape from pain & reality?
The thoughts were always disturbing
creating a false identity.
Thoughtless self had no movement.
Was that the nirvana?
The final moksha?
poem by Satish Verma
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Do I Lie?
You can’t believe all that you see.
Because it’s on the internet,
does not mean automatically
that it is true. Do not forget
that anyone can claim to be.
A recognised authority.
In their attempts to influence
beliefs held by their audience.
Their version of reality
which they present with clarity
Examined scientifically
by anyone that’s curious
enough to take an interest.
Who wants to put it to the test.
If you are wise you cross refer
with other sources and compare.
To check on their veracity
and you will find quite frequently.
It’s someone’s half baked fantasy.
You have to use your common sense
interpreting the evidence.
It may be true I can’t deny
that is a possibility
but then again it may not be.
Its up to you must decide
Before you can be satisfied
If it is truth or falsity.
I think it’s best to check it out
Discard it if there’s any doubt.
As for myself I’m cynical
I find some claims are comical.
But you can choose what you believe.
My words could be meant to deceive.
27/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Frustrated Ambition.
Frustrated ambition.
I can remember vividly
The first person that I chose to kill.
Although selected randomly.
It somehow made me feel fulfilled.
No longer a non entity.
Overlooked by everyone.
It proved my capability
To make my name and be someone.
I thought about it constantly.
I knew that I must kill again
I felt a growing certainty
my only thought was to regain.
The rush of the adrenaline
The sense of power which it brought.
As if the whole wide world was mine.
That was the feeling which I sought.
Though when my second victim died
My pleasure was not so intense
and I was left unsatisfied
Which did not seem to make much sense.
When I killed victim number three
There was no rushed adrenaline.
Which only served to convince me
That killing had become routine.
I had not yet achieved my aim.
Although killing had lost its thrill.
The only way I would gain fame
Was by continuing to kill.
I will defy the threatened rain
To add another to my score
Tonight I mean to kill again
and claim my victim number four.
Though others have killed many more
To earn their place in history.
I aim to beat the highest score.
I’m sure I will eventually.
Because I’ve only just begun
I study the case histories.
Familiar with everyone
I find that this inspires me.
To choose my victims carefully
and not at random as before
and change my M.O frequently
Whilst I am racking up my score.
Six years have passed my final score
I don’t believe can be surpassed.
by anyone who’s gone before.
Perhaps the time has come at last
For me to claim the fame that’s due.
Because I have successfully
Achieved what I set out to do.
By confessing publically.
The best laid plans can go awry.
The powers that be were satisfied
My story was a fantasy.
And so they had me certified.
No access to publicity
I never got the chance to boast.
Perhaps a fitting penalty
Organised by a vengeful ghost.
They keep me safely locked away
With no access to the outside.
Though I am certain that one day
All my claims will be verified.
Some one will find my record book
Containing records of my kills.
But when I tell them where to look
They do not listen: no one will.
Tuesday,13 December 2011
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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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The Sacrifice storypoem
She wore a robe so white and thin
that it enhanced her nakedness.
Made of the silk which spiders spin
Epitome of gracefulness
Her hair as black as ebony,
contrasting with her rose gold skin.
Which unrestrained was flowing free
She glowed as though she had within,
her slender form of flesh and blood.
A light that would illuminate
the darkness of the world and would
without a doubt propitiate.
The Gods demanding sacrifice.
According to the High Priests rede,
only a virgin would suffice.
To satisfy his dark Gods need.
The clan believed his rede was true
And so she went quite willingly.
To pay the God What he was due
ad so ensure fertility.
of flocks and crops, increase their yield.
Improve the clan’s prosperity
In truth the High Priests rede concealed
his innate taste for cruelty.
She lay upon the altar stone
and showed no slightest sign of fear.
The high Priest bared his blade of bone
and then although the sky was clear.
A bolt of lightning from the blue
struck down the priest as he deserved.
The Goddess had decided to
insist her rules should be observed.
The maiden lived and she became
in course of time the high priestess.
She governed in the goddess’ name
Rewarded for her faithfulness.
The wicked high priest had to die
because he had led the clan astray.
A truth that no one can deny.
The high priestess would lead the way.
The Goddess would protect the clan
as long as they obeyed her laws.
Though she would strike dead any man
whose bad behaviour gave her cause.
The Mother Goddess would supply
sufficient for her children’s need.
As long as they lived righteously
and followed her High Priestess’ lead
The willing sacrifice became
the chosen of the true Goddess
and now held power in her name.
Authority to curse or bless.
She serves her clan still faithfully
as she was always willing to
Speaks for the Goddess honestly,
does as the Goddess bids her do.
Willing to die to serve her clan.
The Goddess decreed that she should live
to implement the goddess’ plan.
And claimed the life she chose to give.
She’d live a life of servitude
as guardian of the sacred lore.
A mother to the multitude
who looked to her to keep the law.
Chosen to be a sacrifice
Which she accepted willingly
the goddess changed things in a trice
which she could do quite easily.
Though she would sacrifice her life
to serve the clan for all her days.
Forgo the chance to be a wife
to follow in the goddess’ ways.
6-Dec-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I prescribe a purgative a rant
The body politic is ill
in urgent need of medicine
It seems that M.Ps lack the will
to exercise self discipline.
They claim to act within the rules.
When they make dishonest claims.
Which proves they are short sighted fools.
Some say the system is to blame
But I for one do not agree
I think each person has to use
The same standards of honesty.
The systems open to abuse,
which does not mean they have to cheat
Although it’s obvious some do
The time has come for a complete
review of rules; long overdue.
Who made the rules? The same M/Ps
who benefit from laxity
Who seem to do just as they please
and have no fear of penalties
The body politic is sick
and it grows sicker every day
This is no time for rhetoric
we have to act without delay.
Expose the loathsome parasites
who now wax fat in secrecy
and curb their greedy appetites.
It is the only remedy
The public is entitled to
demand an end to secrecy.
Insist all claims both old and new
be subject to close scrutiny.
10/05/2009 http; // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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False Truth
False truth
Just like a word that says
Love will always find the way
No matter how hard
No matter how much
I want to hear what i want
I want to see what i like
As simple as that
Yet it's impossible to be done
Because it's just a false truth
That would never be found
A personal satisfaction within
Called ''Happiness''
Let it slide
Begone for tomorrow
Because when it's the time
You'll learn and see
That truth is just a truth
A fact that simply
Without false
And without doubt…
poem by Alva Cross
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whistle Blower
My name is immaterial.
I must remain anonymous.
I'm publishing material.
That's guaranteed to cause a fuss.
Revealing things I'm privy to.
The powers that be try to conceal.
The would much rather no one knew
The way they choose to wheel and deal.
Corrupt officials on the make.
Accepting bribes to influence
Some decisions which they make.
So they grow rich at our expense.
I can supply the evidence.
To prove that what I say is true.
This is no time for reticence.
I do as my conscience bids me to.
I do not trust the powers that be.
Should they discover my intent.
I'm sure that they will silence me.
And make it seem by accident..
I've duplicated documents
all neatly filed and cross referred.
In packages which will be sent.
To the main news editors.
They dare not risk discovery.
To face exposure and disgrace
So they will try to silence me.
I'll disappear without a trace
If I die unexpectedly
A trusted friend will send them out
I will deny them victory.
The press will print without a doubt.
I have been silent far too long.
My conscience will not let me rest.
I can no longer go along.
I have to do as I think best.
Though they succeed in killing me.
The evidence will prove their guilt.
I will destroy posthumously.
The thieving systems they have built.
They cannot win I cannot lose.
My life's of little consequence.
This is the strategy I choose.
To demonstrate my penitence.
I have no choice but make a stand.
Against corruption which I see.
I did not fully understand.
That I was guilty partially.
I should have spoken out before.
But I chose to procrastinate.
Afraid of my superior
And how he might retaliate.
I have informed the auditor.
Provided him with evidence.
Which I am sure he won't ignore.
Although it proves my negligence.
I'm sure that he'll investigate
My allegations thoroughly.
There's nothing I can do but wait.
The truth will out eventually.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Chapter
One chapter in the book of life
draws to its close; the body dies.
And some will find to their surprise
That their beliefs were based on lies.
False explanations which were rife
Proliferating like spring weeds
in an attempt to meet the needs
of all the different warring creeds
Leading to schisms and to strife
As each instead only they
knew the full truth. So they could say
that their way was the only way.
For man to gain eternal life.
Though they thought they were correct
and taught adherents to accept
That after death they could expect.
Depending, how they’d led their life.
Their due reward or punishment
The lessons taught with good intent
were held to be sufficient.
Although they all believed they knew.
The truth was known to very few
and only those who held the view.
A single lifetime would not do.
For each immortal soul to learn
the needed lessons each in turn
Which would enable them to earn
sufficient merit to return.
From whence they came the final goal
To combine with the oversoul.
Released from any earthly role
just one part of a perfect whole.
1-Nov-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Am I mistaken A rant
When shopping at the superstore
I find each time I must pay more
For food than what I used to do
And other prices increase too.
It makes rather curious
and not a little furious
Whichever store to which I’ve gone
The prices rise in unison.
I suspect conspiracy
They all agree it seems to me
To a co-ordinated plan
Simply because they think they can
Increase the profits which they make.
It’s not a case of give and take.
I can produce no evidence
I rely on my common sense
Perhaps I’m growing paranoid.
Why does the government avoid
Examining the evidence
Because they know it would incense.
The fat cats who they daren’t offend
So they keep quiet and pretend
The do not have the power to
Do as they’re supposed to do.
Protect the public not their friends
But obviously it all depends
To whom they owe their loyalty.
Not to public obviously
Until there’s an election due
That is the time they promise to
Investigate the reasons why
Food prices have become so high
You can believe if you so choose
But as for me I will refuse
To waste my time by listening to
What they are promising to do.
They promise much deliver less
That’s why this country’s in a mess.
We cannot trust the government.
That much at least is evident
The fat cats just ignore the rules.
They see the government as fools
Who have strength but not the will
One single promise to fulfil.
Of course the government deny
This is the truth and they reply.
As usual with platitudes
There is no change of attitude.
The rich grow richer every day.
We have no choice we have to pay.
The prices they demand for food
Maybe I have misunderstood.
And politicians never lie.
And that truth is that they try
To protect us from the greedy few.
Who can tell them what to do.
Governments of both left and right
Have not the strength of will to fight
The power of the money men
Who ever lives at number ten.
Friday,23 September 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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History Will Teach Us Nothing
If we seek solace in the prisons of the distant past
Security in human systems were told will always always last
Emotions are the sail and blind faith is the mast
Without a breath of real freedom were getting nowhere fast
If God is dead and an actor plays his part
His words of fear will find their way to a place in your heart
Without the voice of reason every faith is its own curse
Without freedom from the past things can only get worse
Sooner or later just like the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later just like the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
History will teach us nothing
History will teach us nothing
Our written history is a catalogue of crime
The sordid and the powerful, the architects of time
The mother of invention, the oppression of the mild
The constant fear of scarcity, aggression as its child
Sooner or later
Sooner or later
Sooner or later
Sooner or later
Convince an enemy, convince him that hes wrong
Is to win a bloodless battle where victory is long
A simple act of faith
In reason over might
To blow up his children will only prove him right
History will teach us nothing
Sooner or later the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
History will teach us nothing
History will teach us nothing
Know you human rights
Be what you come here for
Know your human rights
Be what you come here for
Know your human rights
Be what you come here for
Know your human rights
Be what you come here for
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uncertainty for Friend J.T. Ellison
There is a question troubling me.
How do I know that I am me?
You question my identity
I answer satisfactorily.
You are convinced that I am me.
Though I have passed your scrutiny
and proved I’m who I claim to be
I’m half convinced that I might be
somebody else who thinks he’s me.
This worries me considerably.
I can’t be sure that I am me
A crisis of identity.
You would worry if you were me
plagued by this uncertainty.
6-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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