Grandmama
She sits and rocks contentedly.
She’s grateful for the evening breeze
which is perfumed by lilac trees
and cools the air considerably.
A picture of serenity
a comforter across her knees.
As she recalls fond memories
from long ago with clarity.
What day it is she does not know
her short term memory is gone
She sits and rocks quite happily
and watches as the sun sinks low.
She understands when day is done
but little else apparently.
She’s cared for by her family.
Who make sure she is comfortable
She is no longer capable
of living independently..
No longer as she used to be.
A sight that makes them sad to see
as she regresses mentally.
Though they are glad she does not know.
Appears to suffer no distress
quite happy in her mindlessness.
They think perhaps its better so.
10-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The best laid plans for J.T Ellison
The best laid plans
He sits and thinks but rarely shares
the subject of his pondering
He is convinced nobody cares
to hear his views on anything.
He does not like to watch T.V.
unlike the other residents.
He’s happy sitting quietly
Reviewing long ago events.
When he was self sufficient.
Intelligent and capable
‘til a cerebral accident
which rendered him incapable
of living independently.
Forced his reception into care
although it’s very plain to see
He would much rather be elsewhere.
Though he’s disabled physically
His mental capability
is not impaired apparently.
He accepts philosophically.
Life rarely goes as you have planned.
We meet with things we don’t expect
for fate not man is in command
What fate decrees we must accept.
22/04/2009
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Unseen dangers!
She prowls the floor then sits and stares.
But when I look there’s nothing there
But still watches carefully.
What does she see that I can’t see?
I wonder why she sits and stares.
Nothing will catch her unawares.
Perhaps she is protecting me
from dangers that I cannot see.
Cats tend to mind their own affairs.
They’re secretive and will not share.
The only thing that worries me.
I still don’t know what she can see.
Why should I worry needlessly?
While she watches protectively.
Thursday,22 September 2011
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Familiarity For M'lady Ann
The river as it flows on by.
Softly sings us a lullaby
Our cottage built of weathered stone
sits by the riverside alone.
Here where we raised our family
we are still living happily
Al though the family have flown
and now have children of their own.
The house was here before we wed
and will be here when we are dead
But until then we’re satisfied
to live beside the riverside
and listen to the lullaby
the river sings as it flows by.
22/04/2009
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A Sobering Tale.
Sometimes he sits, sometimes he thinks.
At other times combines the two
More frequently he sits and drinks.
Because he cannot bear the view.
The only view that he can see
through pain filled eyes awash with tears.
He can remember vividly.
The promise of his early years.
When he was young and full of hope.
He had the whole world by the tail
But later found he could not cope,
although he tried to no avail.
Discovering that a drink or two
helped to alleviate the stress
A sorry story nothing new
His life became a complete mess.
He lost his job it had to come.
His drinking led to a divorce.
His wife then claimed the family home.
His life sped on it’s downwards course.
A friend became his enemy
because he let it take control.
It took him over completely.
Dependent now on alcohol.
No longer does he drink from choice
That luxury is now denied.
He drinks to still the nagging voice
which urges him to suicide.
Today he’s just a drunken bum
with nothing to look forward to.
Bar cheap red wine to make him numb
albeit temporarily.
Sometimes he sits, sometimes he thinks
sometimes he can combine the two.
More often though he sits and drinks
There’s nothing he would rather do.
10/10/2009
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Selina sees our misery.
The moon mistress of mystery
has observed mankind’s history.
For centuries and centuries.
Though she has seen it all before
Mankind’s love of making war
Against her rules which men ignore.
While trying to impose their will
on other men. They lack the skill
to come to terms and so they kill.
The goddess watches in despair.
Because her children do not dare
to show each other that they care.
All members of one family
and still they squabble endlessly
Instead of living peacefully.
In time perhaps they will mature
and change the course of their nature
She hopes but cannot be sure.
Because her children have free will.
And choose their way for good or ill.
The goddess waits and watches still.
A symbol of serenity
she waits and watches patiently.
Long suffering humanity.
Monday,16 August 2010
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Hope overcomes experience.
I understand that love can die.
Without a cause apparently.
There is no point in asking why.
We must accept that agony
replaces erstwhile ecstasy
We used to share so long ago.
So we decide reluctantly
the time has come we must let go.
We can retain fond memories
or do our damndest to forget
though neither can be done with ease.
Because we are not ready yet.
No doubt we’ll fall in love again
undeterred by our past pain.
Thursday,27 May 2010
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Genenology
When I researched my family tree.
I found out that quite possibly
I should conceal my ancestry.
They were not as my mum believes
aristocrats but cattle thieves.
It’s odd how family pride perceives
their ancestors as respectable.
It makes them feel more comfortable
although it is a load of bull.
I’m not ashamed why should I be
because of my discovery
It makes no odds I am still me.
You will do well to bear in mind
you may not like what you will find.
11-Apr-08
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Shedding a little light on the past for M 'lady Ernestine
A candle in a paper boat
Placed on the water carefully
Then lit before its set afloat
Recalls a racial memory.
Of funeral pyres in days of old
Of longships burning in the night.
The records that our memories hold.
Transformed by the candle light
on paper boats we set adrift.
It’s just a little game to us
But memories can slowly lift
the veil that’s separating us.
Two worlds existing side by side.
Long may these memories abide.
Tuesday,08 December 2009
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Unfulfilled expectations
.
Three score years and ten: They say
is the life span of a man.
Though it’s no longer true today.
People have realised they can.
Defy the dire predictions
and need not die obediently.
To suit the statisticians.
I‘m fast approaching ninety three.
And still live independently.
Growing disgracefully
content to act rebelliously.
Although the statisticians all agree
I should have died long years ago.
Which proves how little that they know
28/04/2009
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Twilight Reveries for M' lady Pamela
The daylight fades as twilight falls.
The Magic Hour
when memory recalls
words of power.
Those words which make us recollect
with clarity.
Much more than we expect
so vividly.
That tears unbidden fill our eyes.
The past is gone,
though to our surprise
it lingers on.
As half forgotten memories,
which at this hour.
Come and go as they please.
Sweet and sour.
Entranced by twilight reveries.
Remembering
with surprising ease.
Everything.
Such vivid pictures from the past.
We had forgot,
time had so quickly passed.
Willing or not.
I think perhaps it’s for the best.
That darkness falls
and frees us from the spell
which so enthrals.
13-Sep-08
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Inside a Broken mind
I’m trapped inside a broken mind.
Where I am deaf and dumb and blind.
Sometimes I know that I am me
at other times absorbed completely.
I lose touch with reality.
I’m someone else no longer me.
Chaotic thoughts go whirling past
but thankfully it does not last
In moments of lucidity
I know that soon I will break free
I will regain my sanity.
A hope I cling to stubbornly.
I’ll find a way to gain control
and make my wilful thoughts obey.
Reintegrate an become whole,
desperately I seek the way.
I break loose from this night mare scene
and realise that it has been.
A dreadful dream which held me fast
but now I am awake at last.
I make myself a soothing drink
and for a while I sit and think.
The details fade I grow less tense.
My conscious mind in self defence.
Wipes clean my short term memory
of anything which seems to be.
Part of the dream that frightened me.
From which I struggled to break free.
It was a weird experience
which even now makes little sense.
Only vague memories remain
of what its like to be insane.
11-Sep-08 http; // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Preview for New Friend Amy
I had an imaginary friend.
Although she seemed quite real to me.
Someone on whom I could depend
always and absolutely.
As I grew up and made real friends
She faded out quite gradually
I must suppose as childhood ends
so does our youthful fantasy
I kept her picture in mind.
Albeit quite unconsciously
When in due course I tried to find
the ideal girl to marry me.
I found my child hood friend again.
No longer imaginary,
and I began to wonder then
if she too had imagined me.
Perhaps we were allowed to see
When in our childish innocence
what in the future was to be.
It seemed to us to make good sense.
We wed and raised a family
I still love her and she loves me.
We live together happily.
And on this subject we agree.
It was intended we should wed
as we would do eventually.
We were allowed to see ahead
as children do with clarity.
Before they’re taught it cannot be
by adults who have forgotten how
very clearly younger children see.
Because they only see the now..
The future is a mystery
that adults cannot penetrate.
Though children can quite easily
Perceive what is to be their future fate.
At least we two believe it’s true
Though other folk may disagree
What you believe is up to you
We may be wrong quite possibly.
14-Jan-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The rocks abide
The rocks abide.
The wind swept crags command a view.
Across the rolling countryside
Where there is always something new.
Though seasons change the rocks abide.
The greening of the land in spring
Which turns to gold beneath the sun.
Then autumn changes everything.
A colour to suit everyone.
From this vantage point I see
The spring the summer and the fall.
Then winter with its stark beauty
My favourite season of them all.
An empty world of pristine white.
All blemishes hid from my sight.
Monday,10 October 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Hard to bear 2010
Like spectres in the gathering gloom.
White lilac trees are in full bloom
and fill the air with sweet perfume
The perfume that you used to wear.
When first I set my eyes on you
I knew you were my dream come true
Quite certain no one else would do.
We were destined to be a pair.
You smiled at me and then I knew
my darling that you felt it too
For once Dan Cupids aim was true
he hit his targets fair and square.
Two separate hearts now beat as one.
We both knew that we’d undergone
a sudden transformation
And so began our love affair.
We had been wed for forty year.
Known happiness beyond compare.
But death took you left me to bear.
My grief alone. Life is unfair.
Like spectres still white lilac trees
their perfume carried on the breeze.
Refreshing my fond memories
of perfume that you used to wear.
Although I know it can’t be true.
I sometimes sure I can see you.
Smiling at me as you used to do.
But as I watch you disappear.
An old mans foolish fantasies.
Or do you really visit me?
Do I see what I want to see?
‘Cos I won’t face reality.
I know your watching over me
I feel your presence frequently.
Let other people disagree.
they think I’m mad but I don’t care.
Wednesday,28 July 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Changing perspective for bro Colin
A patchwork quilt of sunlit fields
Is visible as grey mist yields
to the majesty of the sun.
The morning mist and night shadows
are well aware that they must go
Now that a new day has begun.
The distant hills which I now see
Become for me reality
Now that the mists have fully gone.
No longer just a fantasy,
a half forgotten memory.
I wandered happily alone.
I did not lack for company
I had my book of poetry.
What more could any poet need
except a quiet spot to read.
31/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Harmless Gossip
An avenue of stately trees
whose branches meet high overhead
exchanging gossip with the breeze.
This is the way that rumours spread.
When lovers stroll beneath the moon.
The trees observe their every move.
They dance to day to the same tune
their forbears danced to when in love.
Though fashions change, some things do not.
The trees have seen it all before.
All that they’ve seen is not forgot
but added the their growing store
of gossip which the trees then share
with every passing breeze that blows.
The trees will spread it everywhere
to all and sundry I suppose.
Be very careful what you do.
Although no one can see.
Know that the trees are watching you
and they will share quite happily.
Everything that they have seen
with any breeze that happens by.
With consequences unforeseen
By trees and breeze or you and I.
When strolling in a moon lit glade
Beware the moons soft silver rays.
That stir the blood of man and maid
to think this is the time and place.
19/09/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I'm still a man for M 'lady Milica
I’m still a man though I grow old
I am no longer brave and bold.
I think before I chose to act.
I have to face up to the fact.
I have to do as I am told.
I’m still a man
The aches and pains that trouble me
all tend to sap my energy.
I cannot do what I used to
That’s matterless for in my view
I’m still a man,
Short Rondel format
15/10/2009
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Faded photograph
A snapshot taken years ago.
Somewhat lacking clarity.
Of some young guys I used to know
In fact the skinny one is me.
The other two I can recall,
their faces well but not their names
Although I try nothing at all.
My memory is playing games
I wonder where they are today
I wonder if they remember me
The passing years erode away
your memories ability.
To regain any access to
some things you know that you once knew
Monday,13 February 2012
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Matchless Partnership for M lady Chitra
I have a friend who can pretend.
She’s just a piece of jewellery
A ploy she uses to defend
herself from closer scrutiny.
A member of the dragon race
although she is a miniature
my lapel is her favourite place
where she is certain she’s secure
When I am sitting on my own
she loves to light my smoke for me.
But only when we are alone
and she is sure no one can see.
Communicating mentally
we get along quite happily.
18-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Freethinker for J.T.Ellison
Freethinker
I do believe that memory can be passed down genetically
Encoded in our D.N.A Although I know the experts say
My theory’s unsustainable, there is no proof obtainable.
For all their professed expertise. My theory causes them unease.
They are afraid I might be right. It could explain why men take fright.
When darkness falls and they can’t see, arousing repressed memories
Of long ago when men were prey which linger to the present day
Although the experts can’t explain the workings of the human brain.
The experts say it can’t be so: They know less than they think they know.
I don’t accept the experts view I see no reason I should do
I still believe that memory can be passed down genetically.
Encoded in our D.N.A. No matter what the experts say.
They cannot force me to agree for I think independently
31/05/2009
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