En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Outstandingly average.

Outstandingly average.

I’m extraordinarily
ordinary. My only claim
to fame is my normality
I’ll never be a household name.
Nor do I think I’d want to be.
A bit player in life’s game
I do not court publicity
I ask for neither praise nor blame.
I’ll settle for obscurity.
I have no goal for which I aim.
I am content to simply
be a spectator of life’s game.
Express my views in poetry
To no effect quite probably.

Wednesday,13 October 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Forgotten.

I used to be a household name.
A notable celebrity.
I was a winner in life’s game
Now nobody remembers me.

I lived a life of luxury.
Spent every penny that I earned.
Today I live in poverty.
The tables well and truly turned.

I should have saved but I did not
I thought my fame would never end
I was contented with my lot.
But now I know you can’t depend.

On lady luck a fickle jade.
She builds you up then tears you down.
One day you top the hit parade
The next day you become unknown.

I only have myself to blame
Believed my own publicity
I gloried in my transient fame.
But lady luck deserted me.

I was a fool I must confess
But I chose not to think ahead.
What does it matter more nor less.
Most people think that am dead.

Instead I’m just an old has been
I slipped into obscurity
completely faded from the scene.
Nobody wants to remember me..

23/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Maturely Considered Opinion

.

Approaching his centenary.
The old man did not seem to be
at all concerned apparently.
About the fact that he was old.
Still a player in life’s game
He took each day just as it came
and treated every day the same.
He did not feel that he was old.
Though he had reached a ripe old age
Much greater then the average
He did not see that he should rage
against the fact that he was old
He saw no reason to complain
he’d rather not be young again.

07/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Tolerance.

If you ask me politely
Invariably I will comply
But if you try to compel me
then your demand I will deny.
As I have every right to do
You have your views and I have mine
and they are most unlikely to be
close enough so they combine.
Into a view we both agree
I’m tolerant and you are not
You see my views as heresy.
Which does nor really help a lot.
Some see your views as bigotry
and who am I to disagree.

Wednesday,13 January 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Room for improvement for Leslie

Critics express their point of view.
As they have every right to do
I will give credit where it’s due.
So I consider each review
as of potential benefit
Though I may not agree with it.
It may well be I can profit
by reading what my critics writ.
I treat all critiques just the same
accepting praise accepting blame.
All part and parcel of the game.
Improvement is my only aim.
So please feel free to state your view
You might well teach me something new.

13-Feb-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Who?

Celebrities, it’s plain to see.
Rely upon publicity,
if they’re not in the public eye.
They have to strive to rectify
the situation which they see
as being ignored completely.
That’s why they pull such stupid tricks
and misbehave like lunatics.
The think the public have to be
impressed by a celebrity
Despite the fact he is a fool
who has done nothing as a rule.
Except to court publicity,
which he must do assiduously
Or disappear from public view.
Nobody cares what happens to
celebrities who used to be.
World famous but no longer are
their place usurped by some new star.
They fade into obscurity,
almost as if they’d never been.
No longer part of the Cool scene.
They’re has beens now, not wannabees
With nothing left but memories.

23-Jul-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Undervalued for Friend Leslie Alexis

Some gain fame undeservedly
The spot light of publicity
can transform a nonentity
into a new celebrity.

Like shooting stars across the sky
they brightly glow and quickly die.
They do not last although they try
Because there is no reason why.

They achieved fame in the first place.
They disappear and leave no trace.
Becoming just another face
amongst the teeming human race.

Replaced by some other would be
famous well known celebrity.
Selected by the powers that be
who can control publicity.

What makes me really furious
they have nothing to offer us.
At least nothing that’s serious
They act the fool and make a fuss.

The worship of celebrities
is a modern age disease.
Which fills me with a vague unease
It may be that I’m hard to please.

I must admit that it is true
Perhaps you think the way I do
I’m sure that there are many who
don’t get the recognition due.

Whilst some so called celebrity
receives unearned publicity
The heroes we don’t hear or see
languish in obscurity.

Nobody seems to recognise
the little men the working guys
are worth more than celebrities
who gained their fame by blatant lies.

6-Nov-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Inspiration, motivation, satisfaction

Your wants and needs are not the same.
You needs you cannot do without.
Your wants are quite a different game.
Things that you choose to dream about.
Long cherished dreams can motivate
you to make that extra effort
and when you win appreciate.
It was much easier than you thought.
Some people are content to dream
others will make their dreams come true.
All part and parcel of life’s scheme.
Dreamers just dream and doers do..
Though some of us combine the two
We dream at first and then we do.

Saturday,21 August 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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New Biography

See youve got the new biography
Where did they get the info from
Same as before some, so called friends
Who claim to have, known me then
How come theyve got such good memories
And I cant even remember last week
Got to queston where theyre coming from
What knowledge of me is it that they speak
So far away, way back when
The people that claim, to have known me then
Not on my wavelength and its such a shame
That they have to play the name game
The fame game, oh the name game,
Lord its a cryin shame
Lord tell me whats to blame
Reinvented all the stories they know
Give them all a different slant
What is it that theyre really looking for
Just a hobby on the internet
So far away, way back when
The people that claim, to have known me then
Not on my wavelength and its such a shame
That they have to play the name game
The fame game, the name game,
Oh its such a cryin shame, tell me whos to blame
If they didnt really know me way back
How can they know me now, in any respect
Its a pity they dont feel the pain
That they should pay the price to play, to play
The fame game, the name game
Its such a cryin shame, please tell me whos to blame
Not on my wavelength and its such a shame
That they have to play, have to play the fame game
Oh the name game, its a cryin shame
Please tell me whos to blame
They keep on playin
The fame game, oh the name game
Its such a cryin shame, please tell me whos to blame
Keep on playin the fame game
Lord, the name game, its such a cryin shame
Please tell me whos to blame
They just keep on playin the fame game
Oh the name game, its such a cryin shame
Please tell me whos to blame
Keep on, keep on playin..

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Am I? for friend Thad.

I think therefore I am but I
can only be aware of me.
If I should ask could you reply
with well considered honesty.

I am as I appear to be
to myself with my inner eye
Or do you see me differently
and if so can you tell me why.

Or will you simply lie to me
and tell me what I want to hear.
Because you think that you can see
the truth might be too much to bear.

I think therefore I am but I
Cannot claim true validity
There’s no real way to verify.
The simple fact that I am me.

Monday,25 January 2010
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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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I have become a pragmatist for friend Leslie

I have become a pragmatist

I’ve been betrayed by so called friends
and people who I thought I knew.
With no attempt to make amends.
I sometimes wonder if it’s true.
Was I myself in part to blame
for trusting far too readily
that’s not the way to win life’s game.
Now that it’s too late I see
I acted rather foolishly.
I should have been more sceptical
and checked them out more thoroughly
at risk of seeming cynical.
I am no longer so naïve
I’ve learnt my lesson I believe.

16/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Legacy.

Legacy

Ghosts from the past, our ancestors.
Though long since dead are part of us.
WE must accept this truth of course.
Our forbears weren’t all glorious.
If you research your family tree
You’ll be surprised by what you find.
Most forbears were quite ordinary.
But some of them have left behind.
Abilities and qualities.
Which are passed down through their offspring
in varying quantities.
You can be sure of just one thing.
Today we are the latest batch
of evolutions mix and match.

Wednesday,29 December 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Evening routine.

A maple tree is glowing red.
Highlighted by the setting sun
A fiery glow that quickly spread
to tint the clouds now day is done.
When day is done before the night
comes to erase the pastel hues.
Which fill the western skies with light.
I watch and glory at the sight.
I watch until the stars appear
as spots of light against the blue.
It is a ritual, I fear
I have become accustomed to.
Then I will take my homeward way.
A peaceful ending to my day.

Wednesday,27 October 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Daily Round.

The grey dawn breaks and I awake,
slowly and reluctantly.
A wash and shave is all it takes
for me to wake up properly.
I get dressed automatically
in preparation for the day.
But first I need some fresh coffee
before I plunge into the fray.
The household chores which must be done,
although I did them yesterday
But yesterday’s already gone
and tomorrow is on its way.
the household tasks always remain
and every day need done again.

Friday,29 January 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Autumnal Thoughts for M'lady Ernestine.

The days grow short and shorter still
The evenings hold a hint of chill.
The sun goes early to his rest.
The time approaches I love best
When natures shows her artistry
abandoning propriety
To suit her autumn madcap mood.
She is determined that she should
Use every shade in her palette.
Create a sight you can’t forget
and she succeeds so easily.
By making certain every tree.
Will don their autumn finery
Their gaudy colours pleasing me

Wednesday,27 October 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Freedom. Ivorian sonnet

Because some people disagree
about the rules of poetry.
There’ll always be some argument.
Nobody can define the rules
which leads to widespread discontent.
Some cannot understand it seems,
that every poet has the right.
To choose the way they share their dreams
in any form they choose to write.
I say each poet should be free
to write the way they want to write.
In metered verse with rhyming schemes
or try some new experiment.
No one can dictate how you write.

Wednesday,16 June 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Complementary viewpoints for friend Chandra

Philosophy and poetry
are not completely different.
Each represents a way to see
What is not always evident.

Philosophers and poets try
to understand the universe.
The answers which they can supply.
Expressed in turgid prose or verse.

Philosophers can be abstruse
and difficult to understand
Because of how they phrase their views.
I don’t dismiss them out of hand.

I much prefer the poets verse
To endless reams of complex prose.
I do not think I am perverse
Simplicity I must suppose.

Is really what appeals to me.
the poets seek to entertain
and yet express with clarity.
Philosophers try to explain.

Their reasoning in great detail.
They just succeed in boring me
Their efforts are to no avail
I will admit quite openly

I simply cannot spare the time
To plough through densely written prose.
But I find poetry sublime
I like the way it ebbs and flows.

The insight that a poet shows
can entertain and educate.
Philosophers try to impose
their views, discouraging debate.

Which does not sit too well with me.
Folks can’t stand being patronised
and will rebel instinctively.
A fact that poets recognise.

They are content to share their thoughts.
With anyone who chooses to
read the verses they have wrought.
Which may express a different view

To that of the philosophers.
You draw your own conclusions
and choose which version you prefer.
Perhaps your own opinions.

Philosophy and poetry
Are both legitimate attempts
To explain some mystery
By folks of different temperaments.

22/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Each to his Own for Friend Bob Blackwell

I dance before the Lord, My God.
Though other people find this odd.
They are entitled to their view.
I worship as I was taught to do.
The Christians sing hymns of praise
but mainly on their holy days
And Muslims pray six times a day
they worship God in their own way.
As for the Jews they have their views
a lengthy list of don’ts and dos.
Why can’t we learn to tolerate
each others views. Appreciate
there is one God omnipotent.
who understands each mans intent.

20-Aug-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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