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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Related quotes
Opposing skills.
A brilliant man a polymath
but nonetheless a psychopath
Who thought he had the right to kill.
His reign of terror just begun
He killed his victims just for fun.
To exercise his sovereign will.
He terrorised the city streets
with his all too frequent repeats.
He seemed to need the added thrill.
Of being caught quite possibly.
and so he was eventually.
Or he would have been killing still.
He saw his hobby as an art.
Something that would set him apart.
And he was right it did until
he chose a victim to attack
A victim who could fight back.
a lady who possessed great skill
She was a martial arts expert
Though she intended him great hurt
She made quite certain not to kill.
He spends his life in a wheel chair
Complaining that is was unfair.
He had a quota to fulfil.
Although he is strictly confined
in a cell specially designed
Definitely not run of the mill.
To hold this twisted genius
aware that he’s still dangerous.
His one ambition is to kill.
The heroine that broke his back.
He lives and relives that attack
I have no doubt he always will.
I don’t think he has realised
the fact that he is paralysed
He cannot walk and never will.
Poetic justice some might say
to keep him safely locked away.
Who calls the tune must pay the bill.
Tuesday,08 December 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Pure Rationalisation for Friend Thad
A fly has been annoying me.
Persistently and constantly.
My conscience bids me not to kill.
But damn it all I think I will.
That fly will bother me no more.
I killed with a single blow.
I had endured it patiently.
At least an hour maybe more
It pestered me insistently
I had to even up the score
That fly will bother me no more.
I slew that fly intentionally.
It left me with no other course.
Perhaps in time I’ll feel remorse.
Though at the moment I feel pleased
That wretched fly is now deceased.
That fly will bother me no more
though I’m afraid my conscience will.
Sometimes we sin because we choose
although we know we should refuse
and listen to our inner voice.
That bloody fly gave me no choice.
That fly will bother me no more
I killed it quite deliberately.
I know I sinned and must atone
The fly would not leave me alone.
The fly not I caused the offence.
I think my argument makes sense.
The fly will bother me no more
Its death was more than justified.
21/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Final solution implemented
I often feel the urge to kill
and just as often I resist.
I know for sure one day will.
These insane urges still persist.
I told my doctor how I feel.
He said that I must learn to deal
When such urges bother me
that they are only fantasy.
Just yesterday I nearly killed.
My life dream almost fulfilled
But some last shred of decency.
Intervened and prevented me.
The lady was so beautiful
her swan like neck so round and full
Oh Lord the woman tempted me.
I could have killed her easily.
The only way to satisfy
my urge to kill: Someone must die,
make fantasy reality.
the one solution I can see
from which I can no longer hide.
My last resort is suicide.
No one else should have to die
My killing urge to satisfy.
I will depart with dignity
and not all reluctantly.
I’ll overdose, die quietly.
My problems solved permanently.
17/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Final solution
The countless dead unburied lay beneath a covering of clay.
The good earth turned to dark red mud mixed with the best of soldier’s blood.
It mattered not how many died for death could not be satisfied.
Brave men who fought for their country. Death chose amongst them randomly.
I lived although my comrades died. Death often took them from my side.
Why did I live? So I can tell the world about the living hell
wich we endured knee deep in mud. I think it fitting that I should.
So many died on either side. Involuntary suicide
To fight a war they could not win, to no more see their kith and kin
Like every war it proved to be a total waste, a mockery
The cream of Europe’s fighting mem would never see their homes again.
What did it prove the First World War? Nothing we had not known before!
Though we remember those who died. The lessons learned are not applied
for men still battle constantly to prove superiority.
It seems mankind can’t live in peace, that wanton killing will not cease
Until death has added to his score the last man and there are no more.
I think that then and only then the world will be at peace again.
16/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Art Of Killing
he never for once
imagined that he could kill
killing
the simple thought of killing
makes him puke
he tried once
killing a fruit fly
in a snap
reasoning that it infected
its dessert
that whole night
he could not sleep
for he was
worn with guilt
his brother is a moron
the worst in class
makes most of the fame
by killing
many fruit flies
he is the top of his class
but he laughs at him
short of respect
for his fear of killing
'it is a phobia' his brother says
and just like everything else
runs berserk and
becomes an unreasonable
generalization
let me cut this story short
he did not make money
waddled in poverty and
feared the art of killing
helpless n& useless in-himself
his wife
deserted him and his kids
lost that respect
because he will never kill
a fly again
i do not want to make this
story long and
agonizing,
know what?
he killed himself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Too Much Love Will Kill You
Im just the pieces of the man I used to be
Too many bitter tears are raining down on me
Im far away from home
And Ive been facing this alone
For much too long
I feel like no-one ever told the truth to me
About growing up and what a struggle it would be
In my tangled state of mind
Ive been looking back to find
Where I went wrong
Too much love will kill you
If you cant make up your mind
Torn between the lover
And the love you leave behind
Youre headed for disaster
cos you never read the signs
Too much love will kill you
Every time
Im just the shadow of the man I used to be
And it seems like theres no way out of this for me
I used to bring you sunshine
Now all I ever do is bring you down
How would it be if you were standing in my shoes
Cant you see that its impossible to choose
No theres no making sense of it
Every way I go Im bound to lose
Too much love will kill you
Just as sure as none at all
Itll drain the power thats in you
Make you plead and scream and crawl
And the pain will make you crazy
Youre the victim of your crime
Too much love will kill you
Every time
Too much love will kill you
Itll make your life a lie
Yes, too much love will kill you
And you wont understand why
Youd give your life, youd sell your soul
But here it comes again
Too much love will kill you
In the end...
In the end.
song performed by by Queen
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Turning point for Friend Thad
The piercing arrows driven by
the power of a yew long bow.
Would change the course of history
As peasants laid the mailed knights low.
Aristocrats had hitherto
Been protected by plate mail.
Now thanks to English bows of Yew.
Their sure defence was doomed to fail.
At Agincourt the French knights found
The could be slain like common men.
The change this made was so profound
That war would never be the same again
Although the knights thought it unfair
and lacking in all chivalry.
The English bowmen did not care
and slew the hated cavalry
Who in the past had cut them down
like ripened grain without a thought.
Now that advantage overthrown
their charges were reduced to naught.
A commoner could kill a Lord
Whilst he still too far away
to use his lance or his long sword
The English archers won the day.
The rules of war were re arranged.
The bowman proved decisively.
The art of war forever changed.
The start of modern history.
Men could kill men now distantly
and very quickly gained in skill
To kill much more efficiently.
A skill men are improving still.
Man has progressed until today
He has the skill but lacks the will
to try and find a better way.
To settle disputes than to kill.
03/06/2009
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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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Pioneer. storypoem
John Willy was a collier lad
and life for him was not too bad
Until the day that he took bad
and could no longer dig for coal.
He had to fill his time somehow.
He found life boring on the dole.
He had left school soon as he could
because it was then understood.
Lads followed Dads just they should.
John Willy was a clever lad
so he returned to studying.
He seized the chance he never had.
John Will chose to study law,
that no pit lad had done before.
He finished with the highest score.
He was awarded his degree
and worked for a solicitor.
For several years successfully.
He became well known to the courts
and took on cases of all sorts
and never sold his client short.
He very rarely lost a case.
His success was phenomenal.
For pit lads are a hardy race.
The time had come to specialise
and he had come to realise
That men who suffer injuries
Should sue for compensation
and make employers pay the cost.
This caused great consternation.
Amongst the greedy coal owners
Prone to cutting corners
and exploiting their coalminers.
They were content to let men die
Because they chose to penny pinch.
John Willy thought he’d show them why.
His client had an injured spine
a family man of twenty nine
Who had been injured down the mine.
John Willy proved successfully
Poor safety practice was the cause.
The mine owner was found guilty.
The judge decreed that he must pay
compensation. Paving the way,
for health and safety laws today.
Employers know they must obey
rules laid down by government.
Because John Willy led the way.
15/10/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Undervalued for Friend Leslie Alexis
Some gain fame undeservedly
The spot light of publicity
can transform a nonentity
into a new celebrity.
Like shooting stars across the sky
they brightly glow and quickly die.
They do not last although they try
Because there is no reason why.
They achieved fame in the first place.
They disappear and leave no trace.
Becoming just another face
amongst the teeming human race.
Replaced by some other would be
famous well known celebrity.
Selected by the powers that be
who can control publicity.
What makes me really furious
they have nothing to offer us.
At least nothing that’s serious
They act the fool and make a fuss.
The worship of celebrities
is a modern age disease.
Which fills me with a vague unease
It may be that I’m hard to please.
I must admit that it is true
Perhaps you think the way I do
I’m sure that there are many who
don’t get the recognition due.
Whilst some so called celebrity
receives unearned publicity
The heroes we don’t hear or see
languish in obscurity.
Nobody seems to recognise
the little men the working guys
are worth more than celebrities
who gained their fame by blatant lies.
6-Nov-08
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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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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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Learning New Skills: something a little different
I smell the rancid stench of fear.
Although you sense that I am near.
You give no credibility
to anything which you can’t see.
You don’t believe in ghosts as such
And yet you’re conscious of my touch.
But you refuse to listen to
the inner voice that’s telling you
There are some things you can’t explain.
Some hidden aspect of your brain.
Which knows a great deal more than you
are prepared to believe is true.
You are aware your terrified
of something but you can’t decide.
If it is fact or fantasy.
Should you fight or should you flee.
I can’t do what I used to do.
All I can do is frighten you
I cannot harm you physically.
That pleasure is forbidden me.
I feed upon the scent of fear
To satisfy my appetite.
Before I died I used to kill
And if I could I would still kill.
But I cannot I’m just a ghost
one of the great unnumbered host.
Who have to pay the penalty
for who and what they used to be.
A never ending punishment
For those who can’t or won’t repent.
As long as I can frighten you
I will continue making do.
A lesser thrill I must confess
But it feeds me none the less.
The taste of terror exquisite
It titillates my appetite
for cruelty. I am still proud to be
operating sadistically.
Inflicting mental cruelty.
A student of psychology.
Although you sense that I am near
You cannot understand your fear.
There’s very little you can do.
I am more powerful than you.
Though disembodied I exist
as tenuous as morning mist.
And while I do your fears persist.
You need to find an exorcist.
30/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Your Choice story poem
My cause was just I could fulfil
a life long dream, an urge to kill.
An urge I knew I must resist
by application of my will.
Circumstances alter cases.
I planned my action on this basis.
All paedophiles deserve to die
Just disappear and leave no traces.
My chosen victim was beast.
Who masqueraded as a priest
and preyed upon young choirboys
He’s missing now presumed deceased.
I groomed my victim carefully.
Confessed that I had frequently
had unclean thoughts about small boys.
The priest absolved me readily.
In me he thought he’d found a friend.
A man on whom he could depend
to keep a still tongue in his head.
His own perversions to defend.
But he was wrong in his belief.
He was remarkably naïf
He thought his cloth protected him.
A fact that brought me much relief.
I told him that I belonged to
a private club know to but few.
Men who shared our interest.
When next I went he could come too..
The trap was set now I would
wait for him to nibble at the bait
I knew that he could not resist
He was hardened deviate.
It was arranged that we should go.
Quite separately so none would know.
He thought it best to be discreet
and I agreed it should be so.
We reached the chosen rendevous.
He was surprised we were but two
and even more surprised to find
just what it was I meant to do.
I did not hesitate or pause
I took his life without remorse.
An old pit shaft his resting place
where none will look for him of course.
The priest would simply disappear
for reasons which will be quite clear.
When his perversions come to light
He was afraid to linger here.
His sins recorded faithfully
in grim detail on his P.C,
Another scandal for the church
will come to light for all to see
For many reasons he would leave
they would quite easily believe.
That he just lost his nerve and fled.
When from his P.C they retrieve.
The photographic evidence.
Undoubtedly it will incense
The men who must investigate
his sudden disappearance.
Their first thought will be suicide
because he has no place to hide
Their search will be desultory
They won’t treat it as homicide.
By killing him I’ve satisfied
The life long dream I’ve had to hide.
The beast has paid the penalty.
I think his death was justified.
It could be that this tale is true
So I will leave it up to you
my gentle reader to decide
You can believe what you want to.
8-Jun-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Here Comes President Kill Again
Here comes president kill again,
Surrounded by all of his killing men.
Telling us who, why, where and when,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, ring out the bells,
King conscience is dead.
Hooray, now back in your cells,
Weve president kill instead.
Here comes president kill again.
Broadcasting from his killing den.
Dressed in pounds and dollars and yen,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, hang out the flags,
Queen caring is dead.
Hooray, well stack body bags,
For president kill instead.
Aint democracy wonderful?
Them russians cant win!
Aint democracy wonderful?
Lets us vote someone like that in.
Here comes president kill again,
From pure white house to number 10.
Taking lives with a smoking pen,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, everythings great,
Now president kill is dead.
Hooray, Ill bet you cant wait,
To vote for president kill instead...
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Here Comes President Kill Again
Here comes president kill again,
Surrounded by all of his killing men.
Telling us who, why, where and when,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, ring out the bells,
King conscience is dead.
Hooray, now back in your cells,
Weve president kill instead.
Here comes president kill again.
Broadcasting from his killing den.
Dressed in pounds and dollars and yen,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, hang out the flags,
Queen caring is dead.
Hooray, well stack body bags,
For president kill instead.
Aint democracy wonderful?
Them russians cant win!
Aint democracy wonderful?
Lets us vote someone like that in.
Here comes president kill again,
From pure white house to number 10.
Taking lives with a smoking pen,
President kill wants killing again.
Hooray, everythings great,
Now president kill is dead.
Hooray, Ill bet you cant wait,
To vote for president kill instead...
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Misapprehension
A blue eyed blonde but rather dim.
Or so he thought
But she still made a fool of him.
Just for the sport
He thought he would have his way
then leave her flat
but she saw things a different way.
I fancy that
she led him a merry dance.
She knew his game,
right from the start he had no chance.
But all the same
The lesson was long overdue
he had to know.
That he was not entitled to
just take and go.
She had met men like him before
and knew full well
He wanted to add to his score
so he could tell.
His friends about his new conquest.
But she declined
and told him he was just a pest.
Then she consigned
him swiftly to the garbage heap
where he belonged
and she would lose no beauty sleep.
Though he felt wronged.
Philanderers should make a note
to change their ways.
or surely they will miss the boat.
Alone always.
the maiden knew instinctively
she could not trust.
She spotted you immediately.
So go you must.
With your desire unsatisfied.
The lady’s wise
she sees quite clearly that you lied.
To your surprise.
23-Jul-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Well deserved?
She outlived him to her delight
Past cruelty gave her the right
She had been treated as a slave
and still he paid beyond the grave.
She still received her monthly cheque.
Though he was killed in a car wreck
She had a claim on his estate.
It seemed to her kindly fate
Made him forget she would be paid
Because the blame was firmly laid
By the court that heard the case
His death his guilt could not erase.
So she continues to receive
The money which he meant to leave
to his latest paramour.
It seems that fate was keeping score.
She feels no sorrow at his death
though he has drawn his final breath
She feels she is entitled to
Receive the payment she is due.
For the way he treated her
Although she knows he would prefer
she did not get a single dime.
She finds the irony sublime.
Tuesday,08 December 2009
http: // blog.my space.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Adrenaline
You don't feel the pain
Too much is not enough
Nobody said this stuff makes any sense
We're hooked again
Point of no return
See how the buildings burn
Light up the night
Such pretty sight
Adrenaline keeps me in the game
Adrenaline you don't even feel the pain
Wilder than your wildest dreams
When you're going to extremes
It takes adrenaline
(You don't feel the pain)
Sail through an empty night
It's only you and I who understand
There is no plan
Get closer to the thrill
Only time will kill
What's in your eyes
Is so alive
Adrenaline keeps me in the game
Adrenaline you don't even feel the pain
Wilder than your wildest dreams
When you're going to extremes
It takes adrenaline
Run through the speed of sound
Every thing slows you down
And all color that surrounds you
Are bleeding to the walls
All the things you really need
Just wait to find the speed
Then you will achieve
Escape velocity
Too much is not enough
Nobody gave it up
I'm not the kind
To lay down and die
Adrenaline
keeps me in the game
Adrenaline
you don't even feel the pain
Wilder than your wildest dreams
When you're going to extremes
It takes adrenaline
Adrenaline
Screaming out your name
Adrenaline
you don't even feel the pain
Wilder than your wildest dreams
When you're going to extremes
It takes adrenaline
(Adrenaline)
You don't even feel the pain
You don't even feel the pain
I'm going to extremes
There is nothing in between
You don't even feel the pain
You don't even feel the pain
You don't even feel the pain
You don't even feel the pain
song performed by by Gavin Rossdale
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clear the Stage
The world was; before mankind was born
and will be when the last mans gone
There will be no left to mourn.
Who will replace us still unknown
It seems that since the world began
Dame Nature tries experiments
the latest of which seems to be man
She has established precedents.
At one time reptiles ruled the earth.
at last ashamed of what she’d wrought.
Great behemoths of giant girth
She wiped them out without a thought.
She cleared the way to try again
With creatures more intelligent
the reptile’s loss the mammals gain.
This seemed to her to represent.
A forward leap towards her goal.
Although she waited patiently
She was convinced that on the whole
too little progress she could see.
She thought maybe that the monkeys
With just a little tinkering
could be persuaded from the trees
The monkeys proved to be willing.
Monkeys evolved slowly into men
and not quite as she meant they should...
Her well laid plans had failed again
At last Dame Nature understood.
Mankind was too belligerent.
Determined to go his own sweet way.
A little too intelligent
he saw no reason to obey.
the rules Dame Nature had laid down
Rebelled against them constantly.
Convinced that he should wear the crown
Until at last reluctantly.
She thought it time to call a halt.
Another failed experiment
some inbred genetic fault.
Rendered them obsolescent.
The human race had reached their peak
and stubbornly refused to change.
Considering themselves unique.
The time had come to re arrange.
the way they thought and urgently.
They’d had their chance but lost their way
Nature reacted ruthlessly
That’s why there are no men today.
The world is peaceful once again
Without the constant battling
between opposing bands of men.
There is no sabre rattling.
I have no doubt she’ll try again
Perhaps next time she’ll get it right
with some new race replacing men
Without the warlike appetite.
The world was before mankind was born
and will be when the last man has gone
their wilfulness not to be borne.
the fault was theirs and theirs alone.
Dame nature warned them frequently
Her warnings they chose to ignore
So full of pride they could not see
That it was time to pay the score.
Extinction is the penalty
which failed experiments must pay.
This is the harsh reality
The race of man has had its day.
28-Jan-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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