In Command for All The Moms
When I was born I had no choice
whether to protest or rejoice.
I was evicted forcefully
for no good reason I could see.
I would have stayed permanently
had it been left up to me.
Wrapped in the comfort of the womb
where up to now I was welcome.
But Mother Nature obviously
had other plans in mind for me.
She makes the rules all must obey,
that’s how I saw the light of day.
I quickly learnt as babies do
Who’s in control? it's me not you.
5-Oct-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
It's not unusual.
She smiles at him seductively
And he reacts instinctively.
Mother Nature still employs.
Her oldest most successful ploys.
Ensuring that the race survives
By any means that she contrives.
Hormones raging in their veins.
Make certain that she wins again.
Though neither of them understand
They still obey nature’s commands.
Because they have been programmed to
And there is nothing they can do.
But carry out Dame Natures plan.
It has been so since time began.
Her winsome smile invites him to
Do what he’s supposed to do.
Mother Nature makes the rules.
Hormones are her favourite tools
A tried and tested formula
Which hasn’t let her down so far.
Wednesday,01 February 2012
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Cynics view a rant
Religion is about control.
Although they claim to save your soul.
The truth is it’s a power game
the priests of all creeds are the same.
Although the priests may well protest.
Your soul’s of little interest.
They want to tell you what to do.
If you believe their words are true
you will obey like silly sheep
Instead of walking you will creep.
Obey the rules they give to you
Exactly as they want you to
I am quite certain some believe
that what they promise they achieve
Because for you they intercede
Your place in heaven’s guaranteed
Another trick which they all use
The threat of Hell if you refuse
tobelieve all the words they say
That their way is the only way.
They label me a heretic
Because I know what makes them tick.
To most it’s just a power game
a way to achieve lasting fame.
They do not practice what they preach
and disbelieve the things they teach.
you may say I am cynical
but I reply I’m practical.
Their prime objective is to rise
as high up in their hierarchies
as it is possible to do.
Except perhaps for very few.
The godly men of every creed
Who do their best to meet the need
Of those who follow faithfully
and count no man an enemy.
11-Jan-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bereft for M lady Allison
Alone, alone, all, all alone
lost in a sea of misery.
Gone all the happiness I’ve known
because my love is gone from me
She did not volunteer to go.
When our call comes we have no choice
the only certainty we know.
When my call comes I shall rejoice
I know that you will wait for me.
Not even death can break our bond.
We swore to love eternally
until time ends and far beyond.
Without you there is nothing left.
I sit alone and weep bereft.
10-May-08
http: //blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Foregone Conclusion. For M'selle Perrault
My muse like any woman will
use her feminine wiles and skill
To persuade me to her view
and will persist until I do
Exactly as she wants me to.
I’m well aware that she will win.
Should I surrender just give in?
I must defend my self respect
it is the least she will expect
So I protest to no effect.
When my muse makes up her mind.
Like any poet I will find.
I have no choice but to obey
and there is nothing I can say.
She will reject each argument.
That I can muster and present
Although it’s futile to resist.
My fragile ego will insist
I have no option but persist
to register my discontent.
Though this does not deter my muse.
She knows full well I can’t refuse.
She knows from my past history.
I will submit reluctantly
She always wins eventually
She knows I must put on a show
to satisfy my male ego.
She is prepared to wait until
I do obey her sovereign will.
She makes that clearly evident.
I cannot win I’m bound to lose
When I argue with my muse.
She’s confident she will prevail.
After all I’m only a male
Somewhat naïve and innocent.
She knows I am a gentleman
that’s why she’s certain that she can.
Persuade coerce or bully me
Until give in and agree.
My muse will brook no argument.
Sunday,24 October 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Until we meet again For MY lady
When I am dead just bury me
in a deep hole and plant a tree
Without any ceremony,
whats left behind’s no longer me.
If I go first it’s not by choice
so do not weep, rather rejoice.
You know that we will meet again,
My leaving’s bound to cause you pain
I’ve run my race I can’t complain
I’ll join you on some higher plane.
If I go first it’s not by choice
so do not weep rather rejoice.
Should you go first then I will know.
You had no choice you had to go.
Though I will weep I’ll weep for me
because I know you’re flying free
But I will wait impatiently
for friendly death to come for me
It’s my belief that we will be
together intermittently
in other lives in different roles.
Remaining always kindred souls
The bonds we have death cannot part
we have been twin souls from the start.
My love for you, your love for me
will last beyond eternity.
Because we are one entity
as we were always meant to be.
8-Dec-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Electric storm for M' lady Ernestine
The darkness of the night is rent
By lightning bolts that burn blue/white
The power of Nature apparent.
It is a truly awesome sight.
A heavenly firework display.
A lesson in humility
or merely just the Gods at play
It could be either possibly.
Depending how you choose to view,
this natural phenomenon.
Of course the choice is left to you.
Because it is so quickly gone
I choose to take the former view.
A lesson which is overdue.
Wednesday,02 February 2011
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A New Eden
This world’s a paradise again.
The race of man has been erased.
Replaced by beings far more sane
than humankind was as a race.
A warlike and pugnacious breed.
Who would not live by Natures rules.
has been wiped out root, branch and seed.
Ma Nature has no time for fools.
She warned mankind time and again
That they must change their ways or die
they treated warnings with disdain
Because they saw no reason why
They should not seek to dominate
.Impose their will by use of force
Did not accept until too late.
That humankind had run its course.
Another failed experiment
Which Mother Nature brings to a close.
It did not work as it was meant.
As damage to the planet shows
It will take time to recreate
Conditions as they ought to be.
Now Mother Nature’s cleaned the slate.
She can react quite ruthlessly.
1-Oct-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Predestined? for My Lady Irene
Her eyes are like unto the sea
their colour changing constantly
Their beauty has ensorcelled me.
Try as I might I can’t break free.
The lady is quite innocent
I must absolve her from intent
I met her gaze by accident.
But the effect is permanent.
I was not searching for romance
but captivated by her glance,
I was resolved to take a chance
to change my future circumstance.
Was I a fool to entertain
the faintest hope that I might gain,
the lady’s heart or live in pain
and still a bachelor remain
The burning question had to be.
What did the lady think of me?
and could she possibly agree
to dare to share her life with me.
Although we think we have free will.
Mother Nature has the skill
to create plans we must fulfil.
So we obey or foot the bill.
Regretting that we did not do
what Mother Nature meant us to.
It seem the lady felt this too.
An old, old tale forever new.
04/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blind Luck for Joe Poewhit
Some can foresee what is to be
Fleeting images which quickly pass,
on which they base their prophecy.
When they employ their scrying glass.
Still others can review the past.
Reality not history,
enabling them to overcast
false hypotheses and theory
But most cannot and they must deal
with what is happening here and now.
The things we see and hear and feel.
The most nature will allow
are hunches and presentiments.
You act upon if you are wise.
Sometimes as if by accident
you know more than you realise.
Your mind reacts unconsciously
To what it sees may be a threat.
It observes subliminally
And very often you forget
The reason that you changed your mind
And thus avoided tragedy.
Perhaps you left your keys behind
and had to return hurriedly.
You don’t believe in E.SP.
Although you are willing to
accept your hunches easily.
I am quite sure most people do.
10/10/2009
http: //. Blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
So far, So good
Although I’m far from innocent
I have done things I now repent.
In self defence I must protest
I am no worse than all the rest
Whose sins have yet to come to light.
They still profess their innocence
Their sins well hidden out of sight
and yet feel free to take offence.
At peccadilloes I confess.
Which seems to me hypocrisy
as if somehow their sins are less
than those I confess openly.
Because they’re sure nobody knows.
Its human nature I suppose.
09/07/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Beloved Parasite
Within the womb two strains combine.
Some genes of your with genes of mine.
To form a brand new entity.
Which thrives in the security.
Divides and sub divides again
develops limbs, organs and brain.
All of its needs mother supplies
A veritable paradise.
Takes what it needs quite selfishly
existing parasitically
Its only purpose is to grow.
That’s all it knows or needs to know.
But mother knows the time will come
when he must leave his present home
and face the hostile world outside.
Her hopes and dreams well satisfied
Although the baby will
and seek the comfort of her breast.
There is no choice it has to be
an independent entity.
No longer just a parasite.
The baby still retains the right.
To have its wants and need supplied
which mother’s readily provide.
A petty tyrant who demands
obedience to his commands.
A whimper brings her to his side
His wishes must be satisfied.
10-Sep-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hooked.
I’m sure, deprived of poetry
descent into insanity
would follow.Inevitably
It is my prime necessity
Poetry is my drug of choice.
Without it I would have no voice
either to lament or rejoice.
For I depend on poetry
to validate that I am me.
I am addicted hopelessly.
Wednesday,23 December 2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Morning Ritual.
Cywydd deuair Fyrion.
I greet the dawn.
A day new born.
My hymn of praise
I gladly raise.
As I should do
and so should you.
We know it’s true
that praise is due
An attitude
of gratitude.
Would be seemly
But we are free
To choose to sing
or do nothing.
It may well be
that unlike me.
You do not pray
to greet the day
That is your choice
But I rejoice
to see daylight
banish the night.
That’s why I raise
my hymn of praise.
Tuesday,02 February 2010.
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Merciful Release?
Merciful Release.
The mist descended suddenly.
Totally unexpectedly.
I could not see to find my way
So I decided I should stay
Just where I was. It seemed to be.
The wisest choice
I’m not so certain that it was
I think perhaps that is because.
The clammy fog embraces me
And whispers to me quietly
You have no choice.
If I decide to let you go
I am quite certain you will know.
Not to brave the moors alone
These moors are mine all that I own
and I rejoice.
I have the power to heal or kill
I always had and always will.
These moors are worthy of respect
It is mission to protect.
It whispered sotto voice.
I will remember till I die.
There is no reason I should lie
The day the mist enveloped me
and whispered to me quietly
I hear that voice.
In nightmares to this very day.
Although it let me go my way.
I still retain the memory
Of the lesson taught to me.
The moors own voice.
Although it spoke so quietly
Is etched deep in my memory
I can’t forget although I try
And to this day I wonder why.
It made the choice
To set me free as suddenly
as the mist had captured me.
I don’t suppose I’ll ever know
Why it chose to let me go
I had no choice.
The moors have little time for fools
They can and will enforce their rules
I'm forced to take it seriously
Or pay the price
Tuesday,15 November 2011
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Inevitable conclusion
Inevitable.
All who are born will surely die.
Nobody can escape their fate
Be they of high or low estate.
We may not know the reason why.
Each one of us will have to wait.
All who are born will surely die
This is a truth none can deny.
We must accept that soon or late
Our time will come Death will not wait.
All who are born will surely die.
Chaucerian Rondel
21/08/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
REbel for friend Rema
The cockerel crew at break of day.
Bid working men to make their way
to where they earned their honest crust
when hunger drives a man needs must.
Obey the cockerel’s clarion call.
So harness Dobbin to the plough
and leave behind a straight furrow
or hasten to the factory
amongst the grim machinery.
Obey the cockerel’s clarion call.
Of if perchance you’re office bound
surrounded only by the sound
of papers shuffled to and fro.
You have no choice you still must go.
Obey the cockerel’s clarion call.
On winter mornings dark and cold
and summer days when it grows hot.
But I don’t care I am grown old
and have retired so I will not.
Obey the cockerel’s clarion call.
3-Aug-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mental Arithmetic
Twice two is four twice four is eight.
I do not need to calculate.
I learnt my tables long ago.
I need not think because I know.
The check out girls rely on tills
because they do not have the skills
Which I was taught in junior school.
They’ve always been a useful tool.
Without the till they would be lost
they cannot calculate the cost
of groceries I want to buy.
I think I know the reason why.
They don’t learn tables any more
and consequently can’t keep score.
Friday,16 July 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Threepenny Bits
Our little dog is very old.
She’s rather deaf and almost blind
and if the honest truth were told
You might think my words unkind.
She often has an accident
The reason isn’t hard to find,
she’s senile and incontinent
She has but one thought in her mind
She hasn’t lost her appetite
The only pleasure left to her
she hunts by scent and not by sight
for any food that’s on offer.
We never know where we will find
some souvenir she’s left behind.
13-Nov-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
Our little Yorkshire Terrier Threepence is fourteen years old
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Flexitime for Friend Denis joe
A blank faced clock which has no hands
must still obey Chronos’ commands.
The minutes pass without display.
Times moves on inexorably
the hours passing speedily
Today replaces yesterday.
Why are men obsessed by the clock
they measure every tick and tock.
What does it matter anyway?
we know that darkness rules the night
and that the day is filled by light.
Some time to sleep and work or play.
Avid clock watchers fail to see
that time can pass variably.
4-May-08
http: //Blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Watch and Pray.
A baby who was born too soon.
Is struggling bravely to survive
Perhaps the Gods will grant the boon
we ask and let this tiny baby live.
For now we watch with bated breath
for any sign of progress made
with our support to fend off death.
We hope and pray she makes the grade.
We can but wait and hope and pray
There's nothing else that we can do.
Nature has the final say
She can make our dreams come true.
Nature can correct mistakes
Total faith is all it takes.
Sunday,31 January 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!