Onward Ever Onward.
I must pursue my endless quest.
My destination is unknown
Although the path is overgrown
I have no choice I must go on.
I’m not allowed to stop and rest
I have to journey on alone.
I have no choice I must go on
although the path is overgrown.
It’s up to me to do my best
until my journeying is done.
Although the path is overgrown
I have no choice I must go on..
Perhaps in time I’ll pass the test
Show I could do it on my own.
I have no choice I must go on
Although the path is overgrown.
Each man must pursue his own quest
It’s something he must do alone.
Although the path is overgrown
There is no choice you must go on.
Mirrored refrain created by Stephanie Rypnyk
Sunday,17 January 2010.
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Related quotes
One step at a time 08
The road is long and tortuous.
My pace is slow and ponderous
I see no reason to make haste.
Mistaken paths must be retraced.
I concentrate on moving on
until the last daylight is gone
Then in the darkness take my rest
preparing for tomorrows test.
My destination is unknown
the path is often overgrown
I pick my way as best I can
because I am a stubborn man.
I only know I seek the truth
and have done since my early youth.
One day too soon my quest will end.
Then I shall know the truth my friend.
15-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Budget reflects a choice - not an easy choice, but the right choice. And when you think about it, the only choice. The choice to take the responsible, prudent path to fiscal stability, economic growth and opportunity.
quote by George E. Pataki
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Diverging Paths
I took the road less travelled by.
Impelled by curiosity
Simply because I wondered why.
It was disused apparently.
I chose it voluntarily
Although the path was overgrown
With brambles which would hamper me
Almost as if deliberately.
It may well be if I had known
I would have chosen differently.
Instead of venturing alone.
How quickly past the years have flown.
Since I had a choice to make
Which of the two paths I should take.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Lords Path
there is a choice that i must make
of which path that i should take.
i was shown the path that leads
to my death and destruction.
but! i must teach my fellow man
the life of a new construction.
the life of following the LORDS word
so it can be taught and heard.
seeing the path which ahead lies.
do i continue and give it a try?
is my faith strong enough
for this path is mighty tough.
so here i stand with choice in hand.
do i help my fellow man?
do i give up my life so that the
world could be free and follow this destiny?
or do i forget my fellow mans needs
of which my LORD had planted this seed.
this is the choice that HE has given to me.
to follow him so that other men could lead.
to lead mankind to the path of light
and be able to see all the LORDS might.
and now this question i propose to you
if you was me what would you do?
(we all know the choice he made, for our salvation)
poem by Louis Rams
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A Balloon For You All
I want to give you, my dear friends,
A balloon of your choice and colour
So that you will play with it
Your sweet face blooming like a rose.
But you are overgrown
Overgrown like never before!
Some are like Goliaths and some resemble the unknown men from Kob.
Some look like overgrown convent girls and a few are like the Amazons.
I want to sell my balloons at any cost
For my balloons are about to burst any moment.
Once you begin to play with them
I am relieved a lot; who cares for your tears?
I tell a man with salt and pepper on head,
`Buy one balloon and play with it for a while`.
He laughs at me and chases a young girl.
My balloons begin to burst.
I whisper into the ears of a woman selling woes,
` A balloon for your happiness to return, please`
She looks into my basket of colours and throws back a sob.
My balloons begin to shrink.
As I walk along the beach of sand dunes,
The waves of my realisation recede to the depths.
My balloons burst within their little vacuums
As my heart longs for being one among them.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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The path to your heart's desire is never overgrown.
A Choice Lesson Middle Path
why is it these
Later Day Saints
want to recruit us
to live choice life
on their terms
to live clone lives?
oppressive government
advocates an opposite path
consumerism materialism
is their no balance
a choice lesson middle path
teaching self wisdom?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Interest Dies With Ignorance
Hide and seek is still a good game.
You are overgrown to enjoy it.
Cinderella is still a good story.
You are overgrown to relish it.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why must I? for Cp Sharma
Why must I
The mist is lifting slowly. So
I can see the way ahead.
Although I’m not allowed to know
my future fate. I need not dread.
The Unknown hidden by the mist
evaporated by the sun.
I will go on I will persist
until my distant goal is won.
The quest embarked upon at birth
which will not end until I die.
My sojourn on the planet earth
but always I must question why.
I have no choice but journey on
No one can answer my question.
27/05/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Theroretically
God instructs me in the thunder
and speaks to me in wind and rain.
He corrects me when I blunder
and sets me on the path again.
My God expects that I will try
to live my life the way I should.
I sometimes fail I can’t deny.
Because I have misunderstood
that the temptations offered me.
Are lessons from which I should learn.
I have the choice my will is free.
All men are tempted in their turn
Though men should know instinctively
to listen to that still small voice
which whispers to them quietly.
When they are forced to make a choice.
My God can speak to me direct.
He needs no intermediaries
Which is the reason I reject.
All of religions theories.
What I believe holds true for me
although it may seem wrong to you.
Its just another theory
you can reject if you wish to.
.13-Jan-09http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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On That Path
I'm on that path,
So was my mother,
I'm on that path,
Just like my brother.
I'm on that path,
I didn't know my father,
I'm on that path,
And i am the master.
I'm on that path,
upon the good, straying from evil.
I'm on that path-
There is no cheating.
I'm on that path,
God knows i need him.
I'm on that path,
and i hope i'm never leaving ;)
the HEARTbraker
poem by Madina Morr
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Beyond our ken for M'lady Francesca
Mans boundless curiosity
is not and will never be
satisfied sufficiently
He can’t accept the status quo
There is so much he wants to know
He is obsessed and can’t let go
He seeks for knowledge constantly
but is not wise enough to see.
There is no end there cannot be.
Compelled by curiosity
Inventing new technology
to try and solve the mystery
Of who and what and why he’s here.
But he is doomed to fail I fear.
New questions constantly appear.
The more he learns the less he knows
Although his stock of knowledge grows
His understanding of it slows.
The mind of man can’t comprehend
The quest for knowledge has no end.
We fool ourselves if we pretend.
That there is nothing else to find
and everything has been defined.
A fact to which I am resigned.
Though I’ll continue to pursue
each and every smallest clue.
I have no choice I’m compelled to.
Sunday,18 July 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Hi Mom; Remember me?
Tissue warning.
Her eyes abrim with unshed tears
She tries her best to hide her fears.
But tells her beads compulsively.
Her soldier son a fighting man.
Is serving in Afghanistan.
She prays for him continuously.
She prays he will soon be home again
And bring an ending to the pain.
She cannot hide effectively.
But those of us who love her know
She is prepared to undergo
Her sufferings stoically.
It is her choice to hide her fears
It is her choice to hold back tears.
So we pretend we cannot see.
It is our choice to show respect
We know she’s trying to protect
us from sharing in her misery
but we have a secret too
We know her soldier son is due
to land almost immediately.
But he swore us to secrecy
Though we agreed reluctantly
We will stay with her until we see.
Him say “ Hi Mom remember me.”
The she will let her tears flow free
whilst she is smiling joyfully.
Sunday,22 January 2012
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Along came broken promises
To abide was always her promise,
Yet to decide she was always novice,
To divide meant it was always demise,
Yet to unite was always nice,
Unity and division, she made a choice
The door she built with her hands,
By her hands she destroyed,
The path she created to make a way,
That path she used to walk away,
The same mouth that made the promises,
The same mouth that uttered doom
To live and to stay, she made a choice
The eyes that looked with admiration,
The same eye that looked with insinuation
The same heart filled with optimism,
The same heart that caused antagonism,
Reality and surreal, she made a choice
The same head that looked towards me,
The same head standing opposed to me,
Beacause it was choice, I watched,
Walking away made me cry,
But for your happiness I smiled,
The words and the actions,
The translations to promises,
Yes, heartbroken but I understand
You gave me love now you are gone,
Touching my heart, I was in a comfort zone
A closed chapter now we are done,
Behold, im looking like a clown
I couldnt be without you dearest,
Yet so hard being with you nearest,
The love and the choices,
Along they came,
Broken promises
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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Life is maze
Life path is made of a net work;
One makes a choice at each fork.
Forks are frequent; so are choices.
Some are vital, some trivial.
Choices are made impulsively;
Choices are made instantly;
Choices are made by habit,
Experience, knowledge and faith.
Between pain and pleasure,
Between hedonism and virtues
And between power and possession,
Everyone’s life oscillates.
It is nothing but a sea saw.
Not every choice would click,
However best it appeared.
Your progress is not sure.
Life is maze not made by you.
The success and the failure
Are incidental and accidental.
No choice other than making choice.
13.12.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Chronicles of A Mortal
He was born to live, left in time and space;
Born to shine like a mirror in the sunlight,
He was born for diamonds and spades,
Born to glow like full moon through the nights,
He got the power to sail the heights,
The power of choice was a gift,
The power of choice was a curse,
One wrong turn could be fatal like death,
One right choice could be revealing like newness.
He was born to win, meant to be guided,
He longed for the peak of relevance,
He could stumble in the dark like the blinded,
He could perish in imperfect elegance,
He could fall down like a sick elephant,
Good could turn worse,
Good could lead to the best,
A difficult path could lead to strength,
A haunted path leads to decadence.
He was born to give, its a path to blessings,
He longed to be drunk with holy thoughts,
He could learn to treasure divine lessons,
He could be green in the times of drought.
It is wise to despise the proud,
The soil could be nourishing,
The soil could pollute,
His power could drive him like a whirlwind,
His power could be channels of mercies.
poem by Feyisayo Anjorin
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Best foot forward for M 'lady Wennie
Each road you take comes to a fork
and both new paths look much the same
To left, to right which one to walk.
Which of the two will win the game.
Unless you’re blessed with second sight
you will not know which path to choose.
An even chance you’ll get it right.
You must decide you can’t refuse.
You find it harder to decide
each time you’re forced to make a choice.
Perhaps the fates are on your side
and you will find cause to rejoice.
This is the only game in town
and everybody has to play.
Some will go up and some go down.
Along life’s path they make their way.
Don’t be afraid to walk alone
and choose the less well trodden path.
Your future must remain unknown
so step out bravely come what may.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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My Times Are In His Hands
All my times are in the hands of the only true Mighty Sovereign God,
And He is by my side every day, and goes with me every where I trod.
Each day He allows me to choose the very path I would like to take,
But every day He faithfully directs each and every step that I make.
When my choice leads me to follow people down a path that is wrong,
He will very gently guide me away from what could be an evil throng.
When something happens in my life that I simply can not understand,
I just look up to The Lord in prayer, and He take's me by the hand.
When my life for no reason seems to go through unpredictable stages,
The Spirit will gently lead my thoughts to The Rock of All the Ages.
When my life seems to be so uncertain, and I wonder why I am here,
The Lord whispers “I lead you this far so you needn't have to fear.”
When my life takes a turn and I wonder to The Lord where am I going?
The Spirit again reminds me, that my Lord is one who is all knowing.
When by my own choice, I follow my fleshly lusts and begin to stray,
My Father's loving compassion always leads me back to the Only Way.
Even though the choice I make brings into my life a dark aftermath,
The Lord will shine His light down upon me, to guide me on my path.
Finally, when The Lord takes me home, that bright and glorious day,
I will look back upon my life and see He truly lead me all the way.
(Copyright © 03/2003)
The Child Impaled
Beside the path, on either hand,
To keep the garden beds,
The rusted iron pickets stand
Thin shafts and pointed heads.
And straight my spirit swooping goes
Across the waves of time
Till I'm a little boy who knows
A fence is made to climb;
And bed and lawn and gloomy space
By thicket overgrown
Are wonderlands where I may trace
The beckoning Unknown.
But O the cruelty that strikes
My elder heart with dread
The writhing form upon the spikes,
The trickled pool of red!
So, every day I pass and see
The fence the urchin scales,
The little boy stands up in me
To curse the iron rails.
poem by John Le Gay Brereton
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