En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Object Lesson

Nobody cares, nobody dares.
Show sympathy to such as me.
I’m just a bum, an unwelcome
reminder that you too may com.

to know the depths of misery.
Although you do not want to see,
avert your eyes as you pass by.
You can ignore my plaintive cry.

I too was rich and would not see
that bums deserved some sympathy.
But fate stepped in and fate taught me.
Disaster can strike suddenly.

Reducing men to penury.
From great success to poverty.
Remember this it could be you
here begging for a buck or two.

Just pocket change you can well spare
Can make my life easier to bear
I’m still a man who needs to eat
although I’m living on the street.

You can pass by disdainfully
I learnt my lesson painfully
and so in time my friend could you
in the same way that I had to.

I would much rather earn my way
But fate took all I had away.
She sprang it on me by surprise
perhaps in order to chastise.

me for my inability.
To show a little charity.
to those who had much less than me
I suffered enforced bankruptcy.

I’m not the bum you choose to see.
Today you can look down on me
in the same way I chose to do.
when I was as blind as you.

14-Nov-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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It was not my fault.

I do not think fate deserves blame
For choices which we freely made.
There are no fixed rules in life's game
We have to learn from each mistake.

Sometimes we win sometimes we lose.
The choice we make may prove correct
The course of action which we choose.
May bring success. though I suspect

That when we lose we choose to blame
A cruel fate because we fail.
But we take credit just the same
when we succeed.We do not wail.

Instead we boast of our prowess.
We do not credit kindly fate.
With guiding us towards success.
Though it might be appropriate.

Instead we are very quick to blame
Fate for the times we don't succeed
She does not treat us all the same.
At least on that we are agreed.

Thursday,23 February 2012
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Applied Psychology for M Lady Ernestine

When I was just a little lad
sometimes I used to hate my dad.
It was his job so he taught me.
I must pay for being naughty
He took his slipper to my bum
and beat me like kettle drum.

He taught me there was a price to pay
each time I chanced to go astray.
He was determined to teach me
that I could not go scot free.
He was responsible for m
and took his duty seriously.

Unlike the spoilt brats of today
who simply go their own sweet way.
Now Dads are not allowed to tan
their backsides. So they think they can
misbehave with impunity
Upset the whole community.

Todays child care experts advise
you cannot physically chastise
For they see this as child abuse.
The experts say you cannot use.
My Das applied psychology
involving slippers bums and knees

I general I obey the law
but I believe they should restore.
A fathers right to teach his kid
In the way my father did.
I still remember easily
the lessons I learned painfully.

16-Jan-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Don't ask me

Sometimes I see though partially.
Like images through frosted glass.
Beyond control, sporadically

A foretaste of what is to come.
Sometimes reflections from the past.
Abilities which are not welcome.

A family trait inherited
an extra sensitivity
At times we see the way ahead.

But what we see we do not say.
Because we know we cannot change
future events in any way.

This is the cross we have to bear
the second sight can be a curse
to know but know we cannot share.

I would prefer that I was blind
Unable to see through the mists
.I feel that fate has been unkind.

To grant a talent I can’t use
It seems quite purposeless to me
If I had choice I would refuse.

I do not really want to see
what lies ahead for anyone.
What fate decrees will come to be.

I did not choose I was chosen
to inherit this ability
to see what lies beyond our ken.

My family is known to be
possessors of the second sight
but taught to use it sparingly.

I dare not share the things I see.
I can’t be sure I am correct
I will not share. So don’t ask me.

15/06/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The only Way to go.

Some choose to grow old quietly
but others take a different view.
They chose to live disgracefully.

Why should you give up having fun.
Because you’ve reached a certain age.
There are still things you haven’t done.

You want to do before you die
Though your time may be limited.
You see no reason not to try

To make your madcap dreams come true.
Why should you sit and vegetate
as other folks expect you to.

You are the captain of your fate.
So you can do what you want to.
Tomorrow may be far too late.

So do it now immediately.
Regardless of the consequence.
What does it matter anyway?

Society may not agree.
You have the right to your own view
Choose to act disgracefully.

You’ll find that life is much more fun
than sitting watching the T.V.
Show the world you’re still someone

Seize every opportunity
that life’s prepared to offer you.
To shock your neighbours thoroughly.

They choose to sit and wait to die.
You choose to do the opposite.
You won’t surrender easily/

But fight until your final breath
because it is your nature to
Although you know you can’t beat death.

You know that one day you must die
but until then you choose to live
Just as you wish disgracefully.

01/09/09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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It could happen to you.

He walks alone, she walks alone.
Each to the other one unknown.
She dreams of love, he dreams of love.
It seems at last the fates approve.

They met quite accidentally.
The time was right apparently
He smiles, she smiles and then they talk
and they agree to share their walk

She hopes that he, he hopes that she
enjoy each others company.
It seems they did for both agree
to walk together frequently.

He was alone, she was alone.
But now their loneliness has gone.
She has a friend, he has a friend.
It may well be that in the end

They’ll realise that it was meant.
Their meeting was no accident
But fate had planned it from the start
They were not meant to be apart.

And who are they to disagree.
What fate decrees must come to be.
She is content, he is content.
Each thinks the other heaven sent.

As well they might fate has the right
to interfere in love affairs.
Their future now is looking bright.
Fate brings together matching pairs.

Though he was shy and she was shy
Fate had decided they should be
a couple.No one can deny
that fate had matched them perfectly

He’s not alone, she’s not alone
Their friendship slowly ripening
into what they have never known.
As love insists on blossoming.

A daily walk for exercise.
They say is very good for you.
It may well be fate has a surprise
in store.You might find someone too.

Friday,04 December 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Fate and Destiny

Fate and Destiny

Who can tell us what Fate and Destiny are?
Who can tell us what our Fate is?
Who can tell us what our Destiny is?
Fate. Destiny.
People say we cannot choose our Fate, but we can choose our Destiny.
People say we are Fated or Destined to do/become something.
Fate. Destiny.
Are they different?
Are they the same?
People say we can choose Destiny and we are Fated to do it.
People say that our Destiny is open, but our Fate is sealed.
Are Fate and Destiny the same?
If our Destiny has yet to be chosen but our Fate is sealed, then is not our Destiny already chosen, but unseen to us until the opportune moment?
Fate. Destiny.
When is the opportune moment?
At what point in our life will our Fate and Destiny be revealed?
Or will we realize what our Fate and Destiny are only when it is too late?
Or will we pass our Fate and Destiny without knowing it?
Fate. Destiny.
If someone tells us what our Fate and Destiny are, will we like what we hear?
Or will you strive against the path set before you?

poem by Robert Grimes
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Acknowledgement

The death knell sounds and echoes round
the confines of the burial ground
The tolling bell seems to foretell.
Life will become a lonely hell.

My love is gone, she’s travelled on,
her race is run and she has won.
No longer bound by gravity
she’s earned her wings and she is free.

By sadness I am overcome.
I am struck dumb, completely numb.
I cannot cry although I try.
The wellspring of my tears run dry

The mourners murmur quietly
but no one comes to comfort me.
This does not come as a surprise.
They do not seem to realise

The love I bore for her was true.
We were a partnership we two,
which lasted over thirty years.
I wonder why nobody dares

To offer me their sympathy
a little sensitivity.
But they still show they disapprove.
They do not understand that love.

Between two women is as real
as the emotions which they feel.
But then her mother chooses to
do what the others dare not do.

She comes to me and takes my hand
and says my dear I understand
You loved just her as much as I
it is appropriate to cry.

The courage which she chose to show
allowed my pent up tears to flow
When she acknowledged publicly
what her daughter had been to me.

22-May-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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That's life

Although it took me many years.
I did discover finally
that all my hopes and all my fears
combined together made me, me.

I am the man I am today
because of life experience
There really is no other way you
have to learn in self defence.

You must accept that life’s unfair.
All are not gifted equally
you can observe this everywhere.
But only if you choose to see.

We recognise reluctantly
although we pay lip service to
the idea of equality
It is not and cannot be true.

Fate deals the cards you have to play.
You have no choice but do your best
to move forward- day by day.
To prove your better than the rest.

You grasp each opportunity
To put your talents to good use
but some lack your ability.
What fate decrees they can’t refuse.

All are not gifted equally.
You can’t deny that this is true
if you look at it honestly
and that is all I ask from you.

13-Feb-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Fate Factor

You choose your fate
By the things you do
If you are good
Your fate will be too

Fate does not choose you
It won’t take time to choose you
Just watch what you do
And fate will be good to you

A fate worse than death
For being bad that’s what you get
I’ve been there and back
So I know the facts

Take my advice
Live life right
Just do onto others good
And fate will do onto you

Follow one of the golden rules
Do onto others what you,
Want them to do onto you
And that’s how you choose your fate

poem by LaTisha Parkinson
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Tears Of Poverty

Only there is God
who can feel
the pain
and tears of poverty.

Life do not pass
Time stops its needle
to swing around
Only clouds of
grief and pain
seen surround.

No friends
No help
No sympathy
only there is a
hope that
this darkness of
poverty will
disappear
keep a person alive.

God only see
the tears of
poverty
try to say
you can change
your fate only
with your will power.
Go ahead
I must help you.
I also do not
want to spoil
your tears. Because
darkness never
stay long.

poem by Sanjib Mallick
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Fate-2

Divine`s shape is the fate
hell`s wisdom is the fate
and your success to dwell is the fate
and worthless to become rich is the fate
and the worthful beg to live is the fate
and what we can`t is the fate....

poem by Lily Peace Lago Every By To Ph
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When do a daughters duties cease storypoem

When do a daughters duties cease?

Wilt thou remain immaculate?
enamoured of the virgin state.
Remain always inviolate.
Art thou so sure this is thy fate?

Wilt thou reject matrimony
to moulder in some nunnery
Thou shouldst consider carefully
What such a future holds for thee.

Or is it as thy sire says.
That passing time will change thy ways
Endowing thee with greater grace.
Prepared to take thy rightful place.

Thy sire hath great plans for thee.
To see thee married happily
accepted by society.
This the future he can see.

Forget thy childish fantasy
Thou clingest to so stubbornly.
A cloistered life is not for thee
Thou lovest not austerity.

He now accepts regretfully
he overspent outrageously
To get thee wed successfully
The price of pride is penury.

To have a titled son in law
Won’t keep the bailiff from the door.
Nor satisfy his creditors
who hound him now without remorse.

Is it beneath thy dignity
to make some small enquiry.
To find out how thy father fares
Try to relieve him of his cares.

Thou livest now in luxury
whilst he must live in poverty
Hast thou forgot so easily
All that thy sire did for thee.

Although he acted foolishly
All that he did he did for thee.
He well deserves thy gratitude
and not thy thoughtless attitude.

Thou art a titled lady now
Perhaps thy husband will allow
thee to show thy sire the respect
he is entitled to expect.

Restore his fortunes so he can
although a sadder wiser man.
Again hold up his head with pride.
I pray that thou wilt so decide.

If not for love for charity
He seeketh not thy sympathy.
Nor does he seek for recompense
He did it all for love of thee.

The lady acted with all speed
she and her husband both agreed.
Her sire should reside with them
It was the perfect stratagem.

She thought her sire could agree
and still retain his dignity
and so it was she could repay
her father’s kindness in this way.

Is there a moral to this tale
or do I write to no avail.
I do not know you must decide
Was honour truly satisfied?

17/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Accept my sympathy

In all sincerity
It is a pathetic pity
I merely offer sympathy
With such velocity
This sadness born out of the blue
That decides to levy itself on you

In your fixed stillness
I sense your illness
Accept my sympathy

You lost a pet
Somebody made you upset
Accept my sympathy

You lost a friend
Your broken heart is yet to mend
Accept my sympathy

You were once abused
Possibly at times wrongly accused
Accept my sympathy

You marriage is on the rocks
You got divorced, left without a buck
Accept my sympathy

You lost a fortune
Your voice can't sing a decent tune
Accept my sympathy

You lost in love or lost your job
Or perhaps at one stage got robbed
Accept my sympathy

Your life is a mess
Everything around you depresses

Whatever the circumstances
Accept my sympathy
And if I happen to show no sympathy
Please accept my sympathy!

www.sylviachidi.co.uk

poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Sympathy In End

In all sincerity
It is a pathetic pity
I merely offer sympathy
With such velocity
This sadness born out of the blue
That decides to levy itself on you

In your fixed stillness
I sense your illness
Accept my sympathy

You lost a pet
Somebody made you upset
Accept my sympathy

You lost a friend
Your broken heart is yet to mend
Accept my sympathy

You were once abused
Possibly at times wrongly accused
Accept my sympathy

You marriage is on the rocks
You got divorced, left without a buck
Accept my sympathy

You lost a fortune
Your voice can't sing a decent tune
Accept my sympathy

You lost in love or lost your job
Or perhaps at one stage got robbed
Accept my sympathy

Your life is a mess
Everything around you depresses

Whatever the circumstances
Accept my sympathy
And if I happen to show no sympathy
Please accept my sympathy! By SARTHAK DAS

poem by Sarthak Das
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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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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Consider the alternative For M'lady Chitra

I don’t regret that I am old.
When I look back I clearly see.
The things that fate chose to withhold
I had to accept finally.
When I look back I clearly see.
That all your dreams cannot come true.
I had to accept finally
you can’t argue with fate’s decree.
that all your dreams cannot come true.
Although perhaps you thought they would.
You can’t argue with fates decree
and fate decreed they never would.
It’s for the best that they did not
although perhaps you thought they would.
When I look back I clearly see
I don’t regret that I am old.

11-Jul-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Meditating meditation for M lady Ernestine

Ignore the fleeting thoughts which pass
across the surface of your mind
Reflections in a looking glass
which leave nothing solid behind.

They briefly show then fade away
Like shooting stars across the sky.
Of no importance any way.
Not worth the time it takes to try.

To understand what they might mean.
If they’re important they will slow
their pace so that they can be seen
as something which you need to know.

Command your mind to concentrate
and pay attention to one thought.
Be single minded contemplate.
Is this the truth which you have sought.

Reducing the complexity
of half formed thoughts which multiply
to simple singularity.
Grows easier each time you try.

If you achieve an empty mind
completely undistracted by,
Stray random thoughts of any kind.
Experience epiphany.

For one brief moment understand.
We are all small parts of just one whole.
Then you will know you can’t command
the forward movement of your soul.

The quest you are engaged upon
is something which we all must do.
Accept this fact and carry on
How long it takes is up to you.

03/06/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Blind Justice for friend Thad

Grey stone walls wherein confined.
A prisoner can meditate
upon the life he left behind
and curse the vagaries of fate.

What weeps upon the withered walls?
sad shadows from his distant past.
His subconscious does not rest at all.
Reminding him that time can pass.

At different rates according to
the differing of circumstance
When he knew freedom the time flew
But when confines there’s little chance

Of happiness that once knew.
Heed now the knocking on the door.
The iron door which will lead to
the gallows then to nothing more.

What glow through the barred window streams?
The last rays of the setting sun.
Never in his wildest dreams
did he believe he’d be the one.

To die when he was innocent.
For something which he had not done.
It seems that fate will not relent
and that his time is nearly gone.

He has appealed to no avail.
The court confirms that he must die.
The stoutest heart is bound to quail
when facing death. Though he will try

to show that he is not afraid.
There is still chance of a reprieve
Which would correct the error made.
He has no choice but to believe.

That some last minute miracle
will save him from the hangman’s noose.
He knows it is illogical
its all he has. He cannot choose.

To just accept and give up hope.
Although it is improbable.
He might escape the hangman’s rope
He still believes it’s possible.

Who’s are the footsteps he can hear.
which hesitate outside his door.
It opens and confirms his fear.
The chaplain and the governor.

19/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Forbidden Territory for M lady Kelly Houseman

I tend my gardens on the moon
The far side which the earth can’t see.
Although I fear that very soon
astronauts will visit me.

I’ll hide my gardens from their eyes.
This is a place they should not be.
This is no time for compromise.
I will repel them forcibly

I value highly solitude
and my hard won serenity
I disdain men’s attitude.
They’re lacking in maturity.

A member of an older race
I’ve paid my dues and earned the right
To protect my own living space
which I keep hidden out of sight.

Intruders I won’t tolerate
I will destroy them instantly
and leave no trace as to their fate.
If they intrude impudently.

I tend my gardens on the moon
with loving care contentedly
and ask from fate one single boon.
No astronaut should bother me.

I live alone because I choose
Preferring my own company
for others I have little use.
In perfect self sufficiency.

13-Aug-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Who stands with me?

True poets write in meter.
Not because they think it’s neater
but because the flow is sweeter
When their words are read aloud
as they perform before the crowd.
Their poems pass the acid test.

Prose writers do not choose to rhyme.
They see it as a waste of time.
Although their word choice is sublime.
Without meter it is prose,
not poetry as they suppose.
Their definition I contest.

Poetic prose it’s plain to see.
Can not be classed as poetry.
I can accept you disagree.
I know I have a biased view
I think I am entitled to
Decide which one I like the best.

I choose meter every time
Preferably with lines that rhyme.
I find such poetry sublime.
Though I enjoy well written prose.
Each to his own I must suppose
So write the way that suits you best.

I am old fashioned I admit
and not one whit ashamed of it.
I do not find rules inhibit.
Free expression of my views
They merely mean I have to choose
the words that will express them best

Free form, free verse, poetic prose.
Are methods other writers chose
as being fit for their purpose.
To rebel against fixed form.
Which was regarded as the norm.
Just to be different from the rest.

But fashions change and now free form
Must be regarded as the norm.
I see no reason to conform.
I choose to write my poetry
In the old way that pleases me.
A lonely voice raised in protest.

The wheel of fate will slowly turn
Metered poetry will return
and well deserved plaudits earn.
I hope I live to see the day.
when classic poets can display.
That fixed forms can outshine the rest.

Monday,06 December 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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