Minor Sins for M lady Lorraine
The shadow of an echo falls
upon deaf ears which listen not.
They fail to hear the distant calls
of memories they thought forgot.
The sinful acts they have repressed
and buried deep in memory.
Are in their disturbed sleep expressed.
Rise to remind them forcefully.
The night mares we perforce must ride
are merely our self punishment
We cannot from our conscience hide.
We must acknowledge and repent
those things we did unthinkingly
before we can sleep peacefully.
14-Nov-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Needs Must
I am awoken by a need
My bladder signals urgently
you must make haste there’s need for speed
No sleep until you empty me.
I rise from bed reluctantly
as fast as aged joints permit.
Go to the bathroom where I pee.
Then when I have accomplished it
go back to bed and try to sleep.
I usually manage easily
I see no need for counting sheep
Quite soon I’m sleeping peacefully
I am quite old and I expect
its something which I must accept.
24-Jan-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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No remorse story poem
No remorse
Beneath the waves my lover lies.
They search for her without success.
I see suspicion in their eyes
They do not know but some still guess
I loved her well and faithfully.
I thought she was the perfect wife.
Behind my back she betrayed me.
I had the right to take her life.
Or would have had long years ago
The price of infidelity
was to be slain and justly so.
Though today’s laws do not agree.
I could not kill her openly.
Though she had earned the punishment.
I had to plan it carefully
and see no reason to repent.
My conscience does not bother me.
I still sleep peacefully at nights.
She feeds the fish beneath the sea.
I wish them hearty appetites.
I have no doubt that in due course
the tides will wash her bones ashore.
I do believe I had just cause.
She won’t betray me any more
D.N.A may identify
to whom the naked bones belong
but never how she came to die
Nor will they prove that it was wrong.
It could have been an accident.
Or a guilt induced suicide.
The only thing that I resent
That I had no choice but to hide
The punishment she well deserved.
Instead of acting openly
I think that justice has been served.
Though no one knows the truth but me.
My lover lies beneath the waves
I visit her quite frequently
as other people visit graves
I walk the shore beside the sea.
22-Aug-08
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Access Denied
Ofttimes enwrapt in reverie
I have a distant memory
but I cannot be sure it’s true
Of my mother who I barely knew.
She died so very long ago.
There is so much I do not know
I only know what I’ve been told
and that recedes as I grow old.
Although I try I can’t recall
her face: bring it to mind at all.
I feel I should be able to
but there is nothing I can do.
Sometimes I wake to find I’ve wept.
But I can do nothing but accept.
That time’s erased the memory
of the face I long to see.
Some faded photographs remain
which I look at, try to regain.
The memories I have repressed
It may be that it’s for best.
I was so young when mother died.
My wants and needs were satisfied.
By father and the family
and I grew up quite happily.
Would mother have been proud of me?
I she’d lived long enough to see.
The man her little boy grew into.
My mother who I barely knew.
Then I remember guiltily
my mother lost much more than me.
The grandchildren she’d never know
the chance to see her children grow.
But I still pursue selfishly
that one elusive memory.
That’s buried somewhere deep inside
A need that can’t be satisfied.
Perhaps because I’m growing old
and only have what I was told
to remember mother by.
I know I’ll fail but I still try.
24/07/2009
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unwanted recollections for J.T ellison
I slept and in my dreaming wept
for promises I made: Unkept
The promises I did not keep
return to haunt me in my sleep.
Sometimes prevailing circumstance
had meant that I had little chance.
To do what I said I would do,
at other times it’s sad but true.
Some promises I made were not meant.
I knew that I had no intent
of doing what I had promised.
There seems to be an endless list.
The guilt I feel is real and deep.
My conscience will not let me sleep.
All of the things I should have done
but did not do each single one
Returns at night to punish me.
I must admit deservedly.
Sins from the past I now regret.
I only wish I could forget.
But I cannot although I try
Because I acted wrongfully
I understand the reason why.
My guilty conscience bothers me.
3-Oct-08
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Delayed Reaction for M'lady Tara
The grey dawn breaks over the sea
I watch and wonder wearily,
Why is it when I close my eyes?
Then sudden storms of thoughts arise.
Ideas that circle ceaselessly
disturbing my serenity.
I try to sleep to no avail my
my every effort doomed to fail
Yet when my clock emits its beep.
My mind decides it’s time to sleep.
But I can’t sleep its time to rise
and face the day with bleary eyes.
I do not know why this should be.
Can anyone enlighten me?
20-Aug-08
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All change for M lady Adria
Familiar landmarks disappear
gradually as darkness falls.
Though if you listen you can hear
the roosting birds exchanging calls.
From nests in tree you cannot see
though you’re aware that they’re still there
Enwrapped in night fall’s mystery.
There is no way you can compare
the quiet countryside at night
with the busy and bustling day.
All life moves faster in sunlight
until the sun sets anyway.
Darkness can make the world we see
into a realm of fantasy.
26-Jul-08
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Shadow Dancers for M 'lady Amy
The shadow which throughout the day
have hidden quietly away.
In nooks and crannies which they know
Day is their time for lying low.
When darkness falls come out to play.
Although the sunlight rules the day.
The silver moon’s in charge by night
and she has granted them the right.
To freely frolic through the night
they do not fear her gentle light.
Though when the sunrise lights the skies.
They hide again if they are wise.
Perhaps the sleep all through the day
I do not know I cannot say.
I only know it’s my delight
to see the shadows dance at night.
They can appear and disappear
but they are far too fast I fear.
For human eyes to clearly see
the shadows dancing gracefully.
Our eyes accustomed to the light
don’t work efficiently at night.
Though sometimes watching quietly
You see them dancing silently.
17-Jan-09
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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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R.i.p
I know a reformed paedophile
and he is where he ought to be.
Buried deep beneath a pile
of monumental masonry
An enraged father killed the beast
and pleaded provocation.
Nobody cavilled in the least
when he received probation.
He had saved children from abuse
and cured a problem at its source.
For paedophiles are of no use,
Though some will disagree of course.
He slumbers deep and peacefully
his disease cured permanently.
22-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Tribute to W.B.Yeats
When you are old and grey and full of sleep
And nodding by the fireside. Take down this book
and slowly read and dream of the soft look.
Your eyes once had and of their shadows deep
William Butler Yeats 1865-1939
A tribute to W.B Yeats
When you are old and grey and full of sleep
and conscious thoughts go in and out.
I am quite sure I have no doubt.
That memories will unbidden creep
And nodding by the fireside. Take down this book
a true record of all that’s been
Everything you’ve done and seen.
It is past time to take another look.
And slowly read and dream of the soft look
you used to see in your lovers eyes.
You are content because you realise.
There is contained within this book
Your eyes once had and of their shadow deep
Are still the same they have not changed.
Constant they have not been re-arranged
All of the memories you chose to keep.
31/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Perceptions.
Extinguishing the candle flame.
Initiates my nightly game.
My room’s subject to subtle change
as questing moonbeams re-arrange.
The shadows which were left behind.
So everything is now outlined
in silvery reflections.
Altering my perceptions.
Highlighting things that generally
I overlook, just do not see.
Recalling distant memories
of half forgotten fantasies
Which gently lull me off to sleep
So much more fun than counting sheep.
Sunday,31 October 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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No Twilight Falls
I can hear my true love calling.
Although she’s dead and gone from me.
Only when the twilights falling
I can hear her voice so clearly.
At sundown when the light is failing
I hear her sweet voice once again.
Only when the twilight’s falling.
Can I surrender to the pain.
My lonely tears are soon slow crawling
I hide myself so none can see
Only when the twilight’s falling.
To lose your love’s a tragedy.
Some day I’ll answer to her calls
and go to where no twilight falls.
18-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Night thoughts pour M'sieur Savin
Night thoughts
The night is still I sit alone
with just my thoughts for company
I marvel how the years have flown
and view the past regretfully.
On looking back I clearly see.
Decision which I made in haste
were often taken foolishly.
Mistakes which left a bitter taste.
Caused hurt to others needlessly
There is no way to transfer blame
It’s my responsibility.
I was a novice at life’s game.
Is all I offer in defence
Like all young men I knew it all,
which does not lessen my offence.
My conscience insists I recall.
The things I did which I should not
and things I didn’t do I should.
The minor sins I had forgot.
I sit alone in pensive mood.
I am a man no more no less
Not wholly bad or wholly good
A subtle blend of both I guess.
A sudden change of attitude.
I realise I’m not unique,
that every body has regrets.
I find the peace of mind I seek.
My conscience mollified quiets.
The pearly light of early dawn
dispels the darkness easily.
I start the day with hope reborn
forget the night hour’s misery.
I cannot claim to be perfect
Freely acknowledge I am not
nobody is. I must accept
I thought I was when I was not.
27-Nov-08
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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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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Ebenezer Shillingtree.R.I.P
I sit and muse amongst the tombs.
Only disturbed by sonic booms
as fighter planes pass overhead.
A noise enough to wake the dead.
The dead do not agree with me.
Continue sleeping peacefully.
Planes interrupt my train of thought
I cannot get the peace I sought
I seek peace in this cemetery
So I can write my poetry
The dead don’t question what I do.
Perhaps they might do if they knew.
Their headstones can inspire me
I use their strange names shamelessly.
18-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Waiting for Daylight
The clock has struck the midnight hour
and silence now hangs heavily.
Sad recollections overpower
my every happy memory.
On looking back I clearly see
all of the errors I have made.
foregathering and taunting me.
Aged veterans on parade.
The long slow hours of the night
are not the best time to review
your actions whether wrong or right.
You’re bound to take a jaundiced view
When you are tired but cannot sleep.
Experience does not come cheap.
16-Apr-08
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Harmony restored for M lady Ernestine
The vicar, such a nice old gent.
Sees both sides of the argument.
But there is little he can do.
He will not choose between the two.
Maintains a strict neutrality
and prays for guidance reverently
The Sabbath should pass peacefully,
quite free from all hostility.
But Oh Dear Me it isn’t so
the organist will have to go.
So we regain tranquillity
and hear the choir properly.
The organist will take offence.
But we must act in self defence.
The vicar acts reluctantly
and grants the choirmaster’s plea.
The organist just has to go.
He played far too fortissimo.
05/11/2009
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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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Keeping up appearances forJTEllison
Why do we feel the need to ask?
Just who we are so frequently
Why is that we wear a mask
to hide our true identity?
Why do we try so hard to be
somebody other than we are
Adopt a personality
in the same way we choose a car.
Who are we trying to impress?
Why do we feel the need to hide
behind a façade of success.
It does not alter what’s inside.
Although we try we’re doomed to fail
because we can’t sustain the lie
Our efforts are to no avail.
Yet still we feel compelled to try.
2-Mar-09
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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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