Live and let live
A long abandoned grave yard lies
outside the city boundary.
It has become a paradise,
A well established sanctuary.
Unwanted pets turned out to roam
by cruel owners who don’t care.
Are welcome here to make a home
amongst their wilder brethren there.
beside the graves in disrepair
or in the brambles overgrown.
They are quite sure to find a lair,
some place that they can call their own.
Although the predators still prey
They’re only acting naturally
by following Dame Natures way.
They co exist quite happily.
Eat or be eaten is the law.
You will not get a second chance
for nature’s red in tooth and claw.
The price of life is vigilance.
At least they live free from fear
of mans unthinking cruelty
Few humans ever venture near
this abandoned cemetery.
13-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Write Place for M lady Chitra
The river here runs slow and deep
The banks on either side are steep
and covered well with foliage.
Through which small creatures slyly creep.
The price of life is vigilance
they can’t afford to take a chance
The brambles form an airy cage
through which they cast a wary glance.
Instinctively they know to hide
for danger lurks on every side
They have no choice they must forage.
It’s tantamount to suicide.
Just one mistake and they will die.
Predators can strike from the sky.
so suddenly and silently
The oldest rules of all apply
to prey and to each predator
Nature red in tooth and claw.
An old but very true adage
which will remain for evermore.
The river flows on placidly
quite unaware apparently
of happenings upon life’s stage..
In undisturbed tranquillity.
The river here runs deep and slow
A favourite place I choose to go
To scribble words upon a page.
my pencil moving to and fro.
My presence does not cause upset
they do not see me as a threat.
Until I move to turn my page.
Though I try not to, I forget.
I watch the watchers watching me.
I pique their curiosity
I find it difficult gauge
who watches who the most closely.
Towards the closing of the day
I have to go but they will stay
safe hidden in the foliage.
From which they very rarely stray.
15/07/2009
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Sacred ground for friend J.T Ellison
Between green banks where flowers grow.
Swift silver streams serenely flow.
There’s no sign of pollution here
their waters flowing crystal clear.
A scene worthy of paradise
that’s guaranteed to please the eyes
of anyone invited to
come and spend an hour or two.
Here birds and beast find sanctuary
to live as they should, naturally.
Safe from all human predators.
Still prey and preyed upon of course.
Each creature has an equal chance
maintaining constant vigilance
. Some have to die so others live
only the fittest will survive.
Although this land belongs to me
I wield no real authority.
I’m subject to the self same laws
which nature can and does enforce.
The duty she has laid on me
is to maintain the secrecy
of where this peaceful haven lies
and I agree I think it wise.
7-Mar-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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R.I.P story poem
Here where once there used to be.
A quiet village cemetery
A hallowed place in which to find
Tranquillity and peace of mind.
The graveyard served the village well
Though for how long no man can tell.
I’m sad to say the village died.
The land on which they all relied.
Suddenly lost fertility.
The people facing poverty.
Saw no good reason they should stay
and one by one they moved away.
To other places far from here
they seemed to simply disappear
to destinations we don’t know.
They had no choice they had to go
Houses fell into disrepair
because there was no one to care.
The passing years were none too kind.
There’s very little left to find.
Bar rotten floorboards here and there.
Weeds in profusion everywhere
The churchyard too is over grown
with brambles hiding each gravestone.
A long forgotten tragedy
a piece of ancient history.
The city suburbs must expand
and in their search for building land.
The greedy eyes are cast this way.
They know they will not have to pay.
The true worth of this empty land,
The kind of price it will command.
When it is cleared ready to build.
They hope their coffers will be filled.
But fate has other plans in mind
and to their great surprise they’ll find
That they have made a grave mistake.
The profits which they hope to make.
Will not now materialise.
Because they failed recognise.
The old grave yard as hallowed ground
Despite the evidence they found.
They wantonly destroyed head stones
showed no respect for buried bones.
It makes me happy to report
the vaunted plans all came to naught.
Because some archaeologists
Researching local history lists
Discovered this old cemetery
and they decided it must be.
Preserved in perpetuity
for generations yet to be.
The greedy men had lost their cash
Their dreams of profit turned to ash
the damage done for no reward.
The good folk who were buried here
can sleep in peace they need not fear.
That their rest will be disturbed.
The greedy builders have been curbed.
A happy ending to my tale
Their efforts were to no avail.
It seems that fate itself decreed
they must be punished for their greed.
Wednesday,28 July 2010 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Short term gains experimental form
A great grey/green expanse of mud.
Covered twice daily by the flood
when the high tide comes flowing in.
Where does land end and sea begin?
Adapted to their habitat
the denizens live happily.
They recognise no boundary.
For they are free to come and go
between the salt marsh and the sea.
They know all that they need to know.
Adapted to their habitat
the denizens live happily.
Here they can live quite easily
safe from most land based predators
protected by the friendly sea.
The wading birds parade in force.
Adapted to their habitat
the denizens live happily.
To men a bleak unfriendly place.
To wading birds a paradise
providing them with a safe base
which guarantees their food supplies.
Adapted to their habitat
the denizens live happily.
Until men choose to interfere
and build dykes to hold back the sea.
The mud flats slowly disappear
The denizens are forced to flee.
For men adapt their habitat
so they can live more comfortably.
Though nature wins eventually
she will regain that which men claim
as theirs by waiting patiently.
She knows that she will win the game.
Though men adapt their habitat
it’s only temporarily.
The works of man though built to last
are not immune to nature’s laws.
They’re undermined and overcast
by years that slowly pass of course.
Nature restores the habitat
back to the way it used to be.
The birds return to their domain
as if they’d never been away
What man once held the birds regain
as Mother Nature gets her way.
Adapted to their habitat
the denizens live happily.
22-Feb-09
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And Why not for M 'lady Tara
On the outskirts of the city
There’s a place that’s very pretty.
A semi rural paradise
for those who can afford the price.
A small elite community
where the norm’s eccentricity.
If you should choose to garden nude
your neighbours would not think you rude.
The watchword here is tolerance
It would not rate a second glance
From neighbours who were passing by.
Although some might wonder why.
You choose to garden in the nude
because you want to they conclude.
28-Jun-08
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Indelible Guilt.
Indelible Guilt.
More scenes of devastation.
The tides of war have left behind.
A naked child wanders alone.
She does not know the ground is mined.
She cries for aid but there is none
There is nobody left to care.
The tides of war have come and gone.
Death and destruction everywhere.
The lucky ones are those who died.
Though she survived: What chance has she
A helpless infant cast aside.
To starve to death most probably.
She may be killed by predators.
Who see her as their lawful prey.
Obeying Mother Nature’s law
Because they know no other way.
Kill or be killed the age old law
Instinctively they all obey
Each and every predator
The hunter can become the prey.
But Man the greatest predator
Brushes Natures rules aside
His greatest skill is making war
His blood lust never satisfied.
What of the child? No one can say
It must remain a mystery
The memory haunts me still today
When I look back regretfully.
The guilt I feel is permanent
Does not abate with passing years.
Still flashbacks to that incident.
Reduce me to impotent tears.
That is the price that soldiers pay.
For answering their countries call.
A guilt that will not fade away
and makes no difference at all.
Though we recall the heroes fall.
No one records the innocent
The weakest ones go the wall
By long established precedent.
It seems that we will never learn
The lessons taught by history
Each generation in its turn.
Must learn experientially.
There are no winners in a war.
The strong survive the weak must die.
Mother Natures age old law
When demand exceeds supply.
Sunday,18 December 2011
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Lady in waiting.2011
I live alone, my family
and all my friends are long since gone.
There’s no one left who cares for me.
Others have problems of their own.
I’ve had my share of happiness
and known the depths of misery.
My life now seems to matter less.
So I am waiting patiently.
For death to come and set me free.
Each night I pray I will not wake..
I think that death’s forgotten me
just overlooked me by mistake.
I’d welcome death quite happily
but even deaths abandoned me.
Friday,18 February 2011
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A too severe Penalty? ? story poem
The vampire breed grows more profuse.
According to the latest news
They have evolved and hunt by day
This frightens me I have to say.
I used to stay indoors by night
and do my chores in broad daylight.
I knew that vampires feared the sun
But now that last safeguard is gone.
They used to fear the crucifix
just as they should the heretics.
But now we have no defence at all.
Should a vampire choose to call.
They do not wear long flowing cloaks
they dress like all the other folks.
There is no way you can be sure
about the family next door
You cannot tell who you can trust.
To be quite free of the blood lust.
Even the Vicar is not free
of being watched suspiciously.
I do not mind donating blood.
I feel quite strongly that I should
but only voluntarily
and taken scientifically.
I live alone reclusively
and venture out reluctantly.
Do all my shopping on the net
which seems to be the safest bet.
I often wonder what they’ll do
when everyone’s a vampire too.
No humans left on which to prey.
They’ll have to find some other way.
To satisfy their thirst for blood
Though I have always understood.
They do not prey on their own kind
Because their systems are designed
to digest only human blood.
Their prime and only source of food
When the last of us is gone
and no one left to feast upon
They’ll be condemned eternally
to wander wailing hungrily.
A well deserv’ed punishment
for preying on the innocent
Thee is no court of last appeal
to which the vampires could apply.
But if there were could it repeal.
Established laws and let them die
I like to think perhaps they would
for vampires are misunderstood.
perhaps they did not choose to be
vampires voluntarily.
18-Oct-08
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Silent Alarm for Friend David Threadgold
The darkness hosts a multitude
of atavistic memories.
which influence our attitude
Towards the things we cannot see.
The hunting owl which quietly
on noiseless wings seeks out his prey.
His night tuned eyes can clearly see
as if it was as bright as day.
Some see him as an enemy
and view his passage with alarm.
Although he’s acting naturally
with no intent to cause them harm.
Men fear the dark which seems to be
a breeding ground for ancient fears
embedded inescapably
in memories from their forebears.
Their fear of being eaten by
some marauding predator
which pounces on them from the sky.
Man will recall for evermore.
15-Aug-08
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Who goes there? for friend Thad
By the rosy light of dawn.
A squirrel chatters noisily
as if his duty is to warn.
a task which takes seriously
He warns them all that draw near.
Although in fact I mean no harm
Wild creatures swiftly disappear
in response to his shrill alarm.
They can’t afford to take the chance
so they react instinctively
The price of life is vigilance
and that is why I seldom see
Wild creatures who quite naturally
conceal themselves and hide from me.
20/04/2009
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Last Man for friend J.T.Early
I am alone, last of my race
The reign of man is nearly done
I wonder who will take our place.
I am the last and only one.
WE had our chance but failed the test.
Our foolish pride ensured we would
Because we thought that we knew best
instead of living as we should.
We chose instead belligerence
and Might is Right became our creed.
Despite the mounting evidence
that we wrong we paid no heed.
We flouted Mother Nature’s rules
Took much more than our rightful share
A race of self destructive fools
for others rights we did not care.
It had to come it was bound to.
She’d reached the end of her patience
and knew exactly what to do.
So she unleashed a pestilence.
Against which man had no defence.
The doctors failed although they tried
they simply lacked the competence.
Each passing day more people died.
I am alone last of my race
and I too soon must leave the stage.
I wonder who will take our place
to usher in a brand new age.
23-May-08
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My Secret Place for Friend Thad
This lonely reed surrounded pool.
Far from the noise of other men.
Is always serene, cool and green.
The haunt of grebe and water hen.
I found it quite by accident.
Somehow it seemed to call to me,
as if it knew I’d be content
to sit beside it quietly.
And it is true I’m happy here.
I can find peace to meditate.
Nobody comes to interfere
and I achieve an altered state
of consciousness in which I go
beyond the little word I know
I recognise no boundary
and for a little while I’m free.
Although I temporarily
escape the laws of gravity
I must return reluctantly
to the world of reality.
This reed fringed pool has proved to be.
A place where I can instantly
attain perfect serenity.
Free from the worlds insanity.
2-Dec-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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My Privilege
A small girl dances unselfconsciously.
Quite unaware she has an audience
Dancing to music only she can sense
She’s so engrossed she does not notice me
I think that I am fortunate to see
A dance that has no trace of false pretence.
She dances naturally with confidence
A sight which enraptures me completely.
How sad it is to know that she will grow.
and sadly lose her childish innocence.
No more to dance so unselfconsciously.
By hard experience she will come to know
That she must wear a mask in self defence
and never ever show what lies below.
13-Sep-08
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Tonight could be the last you see!
.
The night is not my enemy.When darkness falls it sets me free.
Thanks to my night adapted eyes.I take my victims by surprise.
Young healthy girls preferably, each one is chosen carefully
It is their choice to walk alone before I claim for my own
I drain their blood efficiently ‘til I have fed sufficiently
Although I know there’s sure to be a hue and cry to search for me
By the time that they are found I will have safely gone to ground
To where my coffin waits for me. I sleep peacefully
Until the sun sets in the west then I resume my nightly quest.
I stalk the city stealthily and find fresh victims easily.
Although the old legends persist they don’t believe vampires exist.
Until the night they catch my eye.Then they believe before they die.
I have to kill to satisfy the burning thirst I can’t deny
I do not slay for cruelty.I need their blood to sustain me
I am as I was meant to be. The predator you do not see
until the night you meet your fate. You may not have too long to wait
It could be you I choose tonight to satisfy my appetite.
If you are wise you’ll stay indoor, safe from night prowling predators.
I don’t suppose you’ll pay much heed. Humans are a stubborn breed
Sunday,07 March 2010.
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A happy accident
A happy accident
Alone. Alone always alone
The warmth of love I’d never known.
Conceived upon a one night stand
and then abandoned out of hand.
Nobody ever wanted me.
It seemed I was condemned to be
unloved unwanted and alone
My heart grew cold and turned to stone.
I could not love, no one showed me
affection: I could not see
that to receive I had to give.
And so I lived in misery.
I grew up in an orphanage
until I had attained the age.
When they considered I should be.
Grown up enough to be set free.
Not their responsibility
and that is how I came to be.
A dweller in bed sitter land.
Nobody seemed to understand.
Just how lonely life can be
I knew that no one cared for me.
I thought that no one ever would
nor could I see why they should.
Until one day I found a friend
my loneliness was at an end.
She was an orphan just like me
and had endured the misery.
Of feeling that she was alone
unwanted too by anyone.
I needed her she needed me
We learned together we could be.
Good friends who earned each others trust
and very slowly to adjust.
Adopt a different point of view
and realise it was not true.
That we were not unlovable
and that we were quite capable
of giving and receiving love
A treasure which we rate above.
All of the trapping of success
To suffer no more loneliness
To love and be loved in return
A lesson that we had to learn.
Which banished all our misery.
Now we are married happily.
And have two children of our own
Deep love has from a friendship grown.
11-Oct-08
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Lip Service
The ladies of the Women’s Guild.
well armoured in their tweeds and pearls.
Are sure that they will feel fulfilled
by doing good for wayward girls.
Although their vaunted charity
is mainly theoretical.
These pillars of society
are totally impractical.
They won’t consider taking in
young girl who has gone astray.
To free her from a life of sin.
Oh dear me no the ladies say.
Although they have our sympathy.
We keep our own homes trouble free.
1-May-08
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Least said soonest mended
Least said soonest mended
I am condemned to wonder why
I cannot make an apt reply.
When someone has insulted me.
I find I can quite easily
but only when it is too late
Why can’t I just retaliate?
when someone has insulted me.
At the time immediately.
Perhaps I’m taken by surprise
perhaps because I am too wise.
When someone has insulted me
to take the insult seriously.
Though I must say in self defence
I am not quick to take offence
when some one has insulted me
I hold on to my dignity.
I will not be an easy mark
to be hurt by some chance remark.
Perhaps they weren’t insulting me
but merely meant to disagree
I simply smile and let it go
I do not really want to know.
If they were insulting me.
It hasn’t worked as they can see.
20-Aug-08
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A different song for Friend Howard
Highways, byways and motorways
are very much the same to me.
I much prefer the bridle ways
Those quiet lanes are traffic free.
I care not where the path may lead.
I stroll along at my own pace.
I’m free from any need for speed
I am quite happy to retrace
my steps. Should I mistake
the path I follow get it wrong
What does it matter if I take?
a shortcut which proves to be long.
I opted out of life’s rat race.
I am at no mans beck and call
I choose my way and choose my pace
and don’t regret my choice at all.
I live my life free from all stress
I only have myself to please.
No time constraints to cause distress.
I freed myself from that disease.
Time does not matter not to me
I thought it did but I was wrong.
At last I am completely free
To listen to a different song.
14-Nov-08
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Voluntary Genocide?
The shrill wind whistles through at will.
The remnants of venetian blinds.
The rooms inside are tainted still
with viruses of different kinds
All tailor made which were designed
To only kill selectively
The product of a mad mans mind.
A plan which backfired tragically.
He was convinced he had the right
to alter mankind’s destiny
That everyone who was not white
should be destroyed efficiently.
His master plan was to erase
all non white populations.
And thus provide more living space
for go ahead Caucasians.
Now he is dead with all the rest
of mankind both black and white
Perhaps it worked out for the best.
There are no humans left to fight.
The whole world is free from wars
The only killing is for meat
and that by natures predators.
Who have no choice they have to eat.
The human race which killed for sport
Has had its day and left the stage
It failed to satisfy the court.
Maturity would come with age.
12/08/2009
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Uninvited company for M 'lady Ernestine
Shy shadows surreptitiously,
when twilight falls invade my room.
I do not let this worry me
they have the right to I assume.
When morning breaks they quickly go
I understand that they must hide.
But where they go I do not know
Some secret place where they abide.
Until the twilight sets them free.
It is then they venture out
silently and stealthily
They are set free to roam about..
I know the shadows mean no harm
and see no reason for alarm
Sunday,17 January 2010.
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