Enough already.
I sometimes wish my muse would take
a holiday, A longish break.
She is convinced she has the right
to badger me by day and night.
There’s other things I want to do.
I love to write that is quite true
But household chores must still be done.
I’d like a little time for fun
A bit of time to paint and draw
I don’t have time to anymore’
I have some books I want to read
but constantly she fills my head
with poetry, she cannot see
Sometimes I need some time for me.
27/10/2009Http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Related quotes
Enough Already
I sometimes wish my muse would take
a holiday, A longish break.
She is convinced she has the right
to badger me by day and night.
There’s other things I want to do.
I love to write that is quite true
But household chores must still be done.
I’d like a little time for fun
A bit of time to paint and draw
I don’t have time to anymore’
I have some books I want to read
but constantly she fills my head
with poetry, she cannot see
Sometimes I need some time for me.
27/10/2009Http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life is for living forfriend Thad.
I’m musing on mortality.
Which seems entirely apposite.
I think at my age I should be.
I can see clearly with hindsight.
As I recall the distant past.
Three quarters of a century.
The long years all too quickly passed.
Experience that made me, me.
I know that one day I will die.
I cannot know when that will be.
So until then I can but try
to use my time productively.
I read and write, I paint and draw
and I maintain my interest
in everything I’ve done before
and tackle new projects with zest.
Although I was born long ago
I don’t admit to being old.
Because I’m wise enough to know.
I should not put my life on hold.
Take to my armchair, watch TV
As others may expect me too.
Sit back and just wait patiently
for death. Something I will not do.
Until the day I die I’ll try
to live as I have always done.
I will think optimistically
and find each day some time for fun.
Saturday,03 April 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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We are not amused for M lady Mary Gordley
I cannot sleep the whole night through.
My muse will not allow me to
when she commands I must obey.
I wish she’d take a holiday.
She thinks that sleeping is a crime
she does not sleep so why should I.
A complete and utter waste of time.
Which I could better occupy
by sitting at my desk to write
instead of lazing in my bed.
I think she thinks she has the right.
She just ignores all I have said.
Some folks complain of writers block
whilst I have writers Diarrhoea
My muse would hide beneath a rock
if she could not supply ideas.
Which I must translate into verse
to demonstrate her eloquence
She views my fatigue as perverse;
of very little consequence.
An active muse can be a curse
I sometimes wish she’d stay away
To have no muse would be much worse
I just give in do it her way.
5-Jun-08
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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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All Poetry... All The Time
All Poetry … All The Time
I Love To Read In Rhythm & Rhyme
I Love To Write Of Wistful Wishes
And Lips Speak Of Love Like Bold Kisses
All Poetry … All The Time
Poetry, Is A Medication For My Mind
Poetry, Has A Power To Overthrow Pain
Poetry, Should Be Spoken, Again and Again
All Poetry … All The Time
I Am Really Thrilled To Find
More Poet Lovers, and Their Word Artistry
All The Time … All Poetry
All Poetry … All The Time
May Each Poetic Puff, Rise & Climb
Into The Clouds, Up To The Stars
(Or Maybe Just Linger, Where You Are) …
All Poetry … For All Of Time
Written & ©: 5/24/10
By: MoonBee
poem by MoonBee Canady
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There Is a Time To.....
There is.......
A time to write,
A time to listen,
A time to learn,
A time to play,
A time to read,
A time to see,
A time to lead,
A time to sleep,
A time to be happy,
A time to be mad,
A time to be silly,
A time to be sad.
A time to wake,
A time to stay,
A time to talk,
A time to walk.
A time to help,
A time to hurt,
A time to scheme,
A time to dream,
A time to make a difference,
A time to love,
A time to try,
A time to die
A time to wonder,
A time to want,
A time to live,
A time to do something.
There is always going to be a time,
But will you do something when that time comes?
poem by Michelle Hyde
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Absolute Necessity
Absolute necessity
Is poetry a luxury or one of life’s necessities?
I have to read, I have to write poetry a pure delight.
Other poets inspire me.Exploring the variety
of forms and styles that I can find, serves to stimulate my mind.
I do not claim to be the best I am just one amongst the rest
of poets posting on the net. Who you remember or forget.
Is poetry a luxury the answer must be NO from me.
To some it seems a waste of time to other folks it is sublime.
You are quite free to make your choice. But I will always raise my voice.
Applauding poets who can write fine poetry that brings delight,
Uplift the hearts of other men, more power to the poet’s pen.
27/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Self justification.
It’s not so easy to forget.
The things we did which we regret
Though if we try we may succeed
in justifying every deed.
Convince ourselves we had no choice
Ignore the inner nagging voice.
Which reminds us constantly.
We did what we did willingly.
We know when we indulged our lust
that we betrayed another’s trust.
We did not see it as a crime
and we enjoyed it at the time.
Although in time we realise
that our excuses are all lies.
Friday,21 January 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Ultimatum
Above, below to left or right.
There is no where that I can hide,
my muse finds me and makes me write.
My wants must go unsatisfied
She interrupts my sleep and meals
insists that I take up my pen.
She has no idea how it feels
to be forced to write again.
She wakes from my peaceful dreams
and asks me why I’m wasting time.
She has a whole new list of themes
for me to translate into rhyme.
I think she has insomnia
Or else prefers to work at night.
She’ll really have to learn I fear
I am entitled not to write.
I need to sleep, I need to eat
I need some time to call my own.
But she refuses to retreat
She thinks she occupies a throne.
And her commands I must obey
immediately without protest.
Ignoring every word I say
convinced that only she knows best.
I dig my toes in and refuse
sometimes a man must make a stand.
I only have a muse to lose
At last she seems to understand.
That I’m not at her beck and call
I have other things I must do.
Her attitude won’t do at all’
It’s something that she must review.
I only write when I want to,
not when muse decides I should.
Renewal of her contracts due
That fact alone should give her food
for thought. I may decide not to renew.
If she wants to retain her place
She will do as I tell her to
accept my bidding with good grace.
There are some muses unemployed
Seeking for opportunities
who would be simply overjoyed
to get the chance to work with me.
She really has to realise
There’s limits to my patience
which she far too often tries.
The time has come to show some sense.
I am in charge and not my muse.
Although she thinks that she should be
I’ve had enough of her abuse
She either leaves or obeys me.
2-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Inspiration for Grand daughter Chitra
The agony and ecstasy
of love inspires poetry
Which otherwise would not exist.
I am quite sure it would be missed.
Though I can only speak for me
I find romantic poetry
can pass the time so pleasantly.
Arousing instant sympathy.
For those who love but love in vain.
Who choose to share with me their pain
and those who win their hearts desire.
Set forth their joy in words of fire.
I read as if I’m in a trance.
Vicariously enjoy romance.
experience at second hand.
Love stories I can understand.
Although they don’t apply to me
I read them sympathetically.
In love you either win or lose.
It seems to me you cannot choose.
The agony and ecstasy
of love inspires poetry.
It has been so through history
Will always be so probably.
2-Jan-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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It Was A Time Of Poetry
It was a time of poetry-
A time when Beauty came easy and laughing on the page-
A time when all those things that make life happy
Seemed to be here-
A joyous time
A time when I could write and feel free
A time for poetry
A gift for now
How I must write and write
So long as I have it in me.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Sonnet - God's Time Is Best
There is a time to play, a time to read;
There is a time to work, a time to rest;
There is a time to plough, a time to seed;
But when it is God's time, it is the best.
There is a time to laugh, a time to cry;
There is a time for self, a time for guest;
There is a time to stop, a time to try;
But when it is God's time, it is the best.
There is a time to eat, a time to bake;
There is a time to fly, a time to nest;
There is a time to break, a time to make;
But when it is God's time, it is the best.
There is a time to learn, a time to test;
But when it is God's time, it is the best.
poem by John Celes
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The Daily Round.
The grey dawn breaks and I awake,
slowly and reluctantly.
A wash and shave is all it takes
for me to wake up properly.
I get dressed automatically
in preparation for the day.
But first I need some fresh coffee
before I plunge into the fray.
The household chores which must be done,
although I did them yesterday
But yesterday’s already gone
and tomorrow is on its way.
the household tasks always remain
and every day need done again.
Friday,29 January 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Machine made Elegance.
My father wrote in copperplate.
His beautiful calligraphy
I daren’t attempt to emulate
A task that’s well beyond me
Each letter was formed perfectly.
His grammar perfect and his prose.
Time was not a luxury.
Which was a factor I suppose..
My handwritings illegible.
To any one, sometimes to me.
I tend to hastily scribble
my thoughts down as they come to me.
But my P.C has changed my style
I can print out with clarity.
My poetry in a short while.
A blessing it has proved to be.
I was never taught to write
At least not write properly.
But I can print to my delight
and that is good enough for me.
The old ways change and we move on.
Although not always for the best.
Perhaps its sad that time has gone.
Now copper plate is by request.
Computers make it easy to
present hand written poetry.
In any font as we all do.
Which certainly impresses me.
15/10/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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There Is A Time For Poetry
THERE IS A TIME FOR POETRY
There is a time for Poetry
When Life cries out desperately for Help-
Or when Love overwhelms
Or Fear comes.
Spring is a time for Poetry
And Autumn also
Winter has its Poetry
And Summer too.
There is a time for Poetry
Which is any time the human heart needs
A deep time
A sad time
A Lonely time.
Any time-
A time for Poetry- Now.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love The Time
Love the time
Love the time
Love the time
You have for you
Love the time you spend outside
Because this nice weather won't last very long
Fall is on its way soon
Love the time
To listen for the song of the birds
This might be the last time
Love the time
You have to reflect on your life
Love the time
You are worshiping God
Love the time that you are discovering your feelings
Love the time that you are learning about yourself
Love the time
Your soul waits in silence for God only
He is your rock and your salvation
Love the time
To dream
Love the time to paint a picture in your mind
Love the time
When you have a positive attitude
Love the time
When you are in the valley of the shadow
You will fear no evil
Because you are with God now
Love the time
Because you belong together with God
Love the time
That you are being yourself
Love the time
That you are moving on
And doing better things to improve your spirit
Love the time that you are gaining your trust back
Love the time that you are gaining self respect
Love the time that you are building your self esteem up
Love the time that you are watching the gold star at night
Love the time that God carried you to solidarity
Love the time that God will bear you up
So that you will not strike your foot against a stone
Love the time that you saw the great light
Because there were people that were sitting in the dark
And you were the lucky one
Love the time that God has opened up the door for you
Love the time that God has given you a chance
Love the time to know that the past is a part of you
Love the time that God is comforting you when you are sad
Love the time when you see writings on the wall
That you can read
Love the time to enjoy your freedom
Love the time when you are flying on the airplane
And looking out through the Airplane window
The sunset in the sky
Love the time when you sing out the blues
Love the time
Love the time
Love the time
Love the time
Love the time
Love the time
Love the time that God will set you free
Love the time when the sun will rise early in the morning in the summer
Love the time
Love the time
Love the time
Love the time to know that age is no barrier to beauty
poem by Aldo Kraas
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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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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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Tempus
Time our foe,
Time our friend,
Time, the only one to mend
All we break and destroy in our time.
Time, the one to draw the line,
Between our present and our past,
Between our first and also our last.
Time the healer,
Time the knife
That cuts and scars us through our life.
Time our fortune,
Time our loss,
Time our slave,
And time the boss.
Time for our pleasures,
Time for our sorrows.
Time for our angst and hope for our morrows.
So much time yet not enough.
And finally, time, the candle snuff.