Peccavi for friend Bob
A sword suspended by a thread, precariously above my head
A sin committed long ago I did not want the world to know.
My conscience nagged incessantly I dreaded the discovery
of what I had done as a child. Sufficient cause to be reviled.
By anyone who came to know the secrets that I hid below
my air of seeming innocence. How I’ve regretted my offence.
What I had done nobody knew nor were they ever likely to.
I did not wish to cause alarm nor did I wish the slightest harm.
To anyone I was a fool to think it would be rather cool.
To super glue the ladies loo which left a lady sticking to
The toilet seat to her distress. I was too frightened to confess.
I realised eventually that only I could forgive me
I still regret my foolishness. A childish prank no more no less.
The time has come for my reprieve I am forgiven I believe
My punishment draws to its close.Although in fact still no one knows.
Who superglued the ladys loo.There is no way that they could do.
I have repented of my sin but secretly suppress a grin.
When I recall the memory which all my life has haunted me
26/04/2009
http; // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
So far, So good
Although I’m far from innocent
I have done things I now repent.
In self defence I must protest
I am no worse than all the rest
Whose sins have yet to come to light.
They still profess their innocence
Their sins well hidden out of sight
and yet feel free to take offence.
At peccadilloes I confess.
Which seems to me hypocrisy
as if somehow their sins are less
than those I confess openly.
Because they’re sure nobody knows.
Its human nature I suppose.
09/07/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Guardian Angel?
I think I’m being haunted by
a female ghost who constantly
Appears to want to be with me
Although I can’t imagine why.
I ask her but she wont reply.
She seems afraid to meet my eye.
I think she thinks she and I
have shared some common history.
I see her as faint image.
A blurred impression from a page
of fashions from a bygone age
Or some actress upon the stage.
A misty figure clad in grey
stays close to me by night and day
I ask again but she won’t say
She cannot seem to stay away.
I don’t know who she is or was
and I will never know because.
She thinks I ought to know of course.
Which in itself should give me pause.
She only comes when no one is here.
I sense her presence drawing near
then hazily she will appear.
This silent ghost from yesteryear.
I see no reason for alarm
I know she does not wish me harm
In fact she has a certain charm.
Her quietness a healing balm.
Which soothes my mind and set me free
from all the noise which bothers me.
Incessantly and ceaselessly.
She offers quiet company.
She places no demands on me.
She is content apparently
to visit unobtrusively,
when she desires my company.
I do not know if she chose me
or I chose her subconsciously.
Sometimes I doubt my sanity
but she is very real to me.
Perhaps she’s just a fantasy
I’m well aware that she might be.
Or some forgotten memory
of someone who was dear to me.
My mother died when I was small
it could be her who I recall.
I have no memories at all
The passing years erased them all
7-Nov-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One Chapter
One chapter in the book of life
draws to its close; the body dies.
And some will find to their surprise
That their beliefs were based on lies.
False explanations which were rife
Proliferating like spring weeds
in an attempt to meet the needs
of all the different warring creeds
Leading to schisms and to strife
As each instead only they
knew the full truth. So they could say
that their way was the only way.
For man to gain eternal life.
Though they thought they were correct
and taught adherents to accept
That after death they could expect.
Depending, how they’d led their life.
Their due reward or punishment
The lessons taught with good intent
were held to be sufficient.
Although they all believed they knew.
The truth was known to very few
and only those who held the view.
A single lifetime would not do.
For each immortal soul to learn
the needed lessons each in turn
Which would enable them to earn
sufficient merit to return.
From whence they came the final goal
To combine with the oversoul.
Released from any earthly role
just one part of a perfect whole.
1-Nov-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mother Love.
Allthrough the night I vigil kept
My precious child was gravely ill
I told my rosary and wept
to see him lie so pale and still
The dreaded crisis came and went.
My babe is sleeping peacefully
I am exhausted but content
My first born child is still with me.
He will grow up to be a man.
Something which was in jeopardy.
Which makes me a happy woman
I offer my thanks gratefully.
My child pulled through against the odds
Which has renewed my faith in God.
14/10/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Female characteristic for M 'lady Ernestine
Women’s minds are different
They do not think the way men do.
Present no reasoned argument
they merely state their point of view
They seem to know instinctively
and are invariably correct.
Which grieves me but I must agree
It is what I come to expect.
Intuition is their guide.
A skill that men sadly lack.
We always tend to look outside
for reasons we can carry back.
To justify the things we do
and wonder why our ladies smile.
Men’s foolishness is nothing new.
Why should the ladies change their style.
What men consider logically
before they can make up their minds.
The ladies discount completely.
Their wisdom of a different kind.
They tolerate our foolish pride.
because they are superior.
A fact that men have long denied
It’s not a case of either or.
For women know without a doubt
What is important what is not.
They need no time to work it out.
A talent that no man has got.
Sunday,16 May 2010
http; //.blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In two minds
John William Henry Barthrop wrote.
In iambic pentameter
an amusing suicide note
Stuck it on the water heater.
Which he turned on but left unlit.
Although his intent was to die.
He put no thought in planning it.
It was in fact a hopeless try.
The fool forgot to feed the meter
and very soon the gas ran out.
Fate decides, you cannot cheat her.
So he survives only to doubt
if in fact he really meant it.
He’s still alive though discontented.
05/11/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Faded photograph
A snapshot taken years ago.
Somewhat lacking clarity.
Of some young guys I used to know
In fact the skinny one is me.
The other two I can recall,
their faces well but not their names
Although I try nothing at all.
My memory is playing games
I wonder where they are today
I wonder if they remember me
The passing years erode away
your memories ability.
To regain any access to
some things you know that you once knew
Monday,13 February 2012
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
She Is fir MY Lady Irene
My lady strolls to take the air.
The flowers bow as she goes by,
because they know they can’t compare
with my lady, so they don’t try.
The song birds sing my lady’s praise,
sweet music to my lady’s taste.
Here as she walks the woodland ways
They flock to sing to her; in haste
Where e’re she walks a cool breeze blows
plays with the glory of her hair.
It is as if all nature knows
my lady’s more than passing fair
She walks in beauty naturally.
she is as she was meant to be.
01/04/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pure Rationalisation for Friend Thad
A fly has been annoying me.
Persistently and constantly.
My conscience bids me not to kill.
But damn it all I think I will.
That fly will bother me no more.
I killed with a single blow.
I had endured it patiently.
At least an hour maybe more
It pestered me insistently
I had to even up the score
That fly will bother me no more.
I slew that fly intentionally.
It left me with no other course.
Perhaps in time I’ll feel remorse.
Though at the moment I feel pleased
That wretched fly is now deceased.
That fly will bother me no more
though I’m afraid my conscience will.
Sometimes we sin because we choose
although we know we should refuse
and listen to our inner voice.
That bloody fly gave me no choice.
That fly will bother me no more
I killed it quite deliberately.
I know I sinned and must atone
The fly would not leave me alone.
The fly not I caused the offence.
I think my argument makes sense.
The fly will bother me no more
Its death was more than justified.
21/07/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The call we can't ignore for Friend Stephen
When I was young so long ago
an inside toilet was to me
epitome of luxury.
We had no choice we had to go.
To the outside lavatory
trudge down the yard through rain and snow
We suffered untold misery.
I can recall it vividly.
A stump of candle for a light.
Squares of newspaper on a string
It was no haven of delight
and all the while the draught whistling.
It used to be an earth closet
but we had progressed to a loo
Most usually the floor was wet
a home made duck board had to do
Today I sit upon the throne
in my bathroom warm and dry
and ponder on the loos I’ve known
I know I am a lucky guy.
From footprint loos in the east
to ultra modern super loos
It doesn’t matter in the least.
We have to go we can’t refuse.
I sit content and contemplate.
The softly quilted toilet roll
and all the latest up to date
systems with which I can control
The heat and the humidity
and spray sweet perfumes in the air.
Such decadence and luxury.
I do not find too hard to bear.
07/07/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Vengeance delayed storypoem
My country taught me how to kill
and when I had sufficient skill
I was recruited secretly
to serve a special agency.
My given task was to erase
any who opposed our ways
at home abroad where I was sent
To which I gave my free assent.
I slowly came to realise
I could not always recognise.
My target as an enemy.
Suspected they were using me
Though I had little evidence.
Some missions seemed to make no sense
I was expected to obey
my instructions come what may/
My duty was to do or die
I had no right to question why
There was no way I could resign
or else the next death would be mine.
I had known other colleagues die
quite frequently Now I knew why.
I was convinced my turn would come
Because a dead man will stay dumb.
I chose instead to disappear.
Create a new life far from here.
Although I killed for my country
I’m certain they will search for me.
They are afraid that if I chose
their dirty secrets to expose.
They have no means of stopping
me whilst I remain at liberty
They would much rather I was dead.
I have a price upon my head.
So I have planned accordingly
If they succeed in killing me.
My story will be given to
the press who will know what to do
.I’ll take revenge posthumously.
on liars who exploited me.
22/04/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Who was he? Welsh bardic form
Cywydd Llosgynrog.
I am forced to live alone
All those I knew long since gone.
There’s no one left who loves me.
This must be the penalty
I pay for longevity
It will be my turn soon
I am waiting patiently
Death will claim me finally
I will be happy to go.
There’ll be nothing left of me
but a fading memory
Which will be soon forgotten.
Thursday,11 February 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Moral Cowardice.
.
Should I regret or just forget.
The things I’ve done or left undone
Accumulative unpaid debt.
Part of the web the fates have spun.
The three weird sisters spin the thread
and weave into tapestry
Each thread is chosen carefully.
Though blind the sisters see ahead.
The future fate of everyone.
No one escapes what they decree.
What is to will come to be
All that you did or left undone.
So I pretend it’s predestined
and just dismiss it from my mind.
Saturday,10 April 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Par for the course
When I was young and hormones raged
throughout my system like a flood
To keep my libido assuaged
I bedded every girl I could.
With little thought of consequence.
I place the blame on Mother Nature
she robbed me of my innocence.
when I grew older more mature.
I realised my ignorance
My past behaviour I foreswore
I would no longer seek each chance
to add another to my score.
The time has come to find a mate.
Someone to cherish and protect.
‘Til then I would be celibate
and treat all ladies with respect.
Hot blooded youth will have its way
but men must act responsibly.
Forget the games they used to play
and start to take life seriously.
9-Jun-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Time to be,
Steal away quietly meditate
You can spare time enough. For a while
silently hide away. Contemplate
who you are, what you are thoroughly.
You may find peace of mind, leave behind
the pressures and distress easily.
All you need to succeed is concede.
You can fly if you try earnestly.
You will see, you can be really free.
12/07/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Eureka! Todays Idiocy.
He stands alone, he has B.O
He has no friends to let him know.
He is supremely ignorant
that he needs a deodorant.
He does not wish to be alone.
But sadly he has never known.
The fact that he smells so bad
If he was told he would be glad.
To take a bath. use aftershave
in short become a willing slave.
But no one dare get close enough
to tell him all about such stuff.
He stands alone he has B.O.
how very sad he does not know
.26/10/2009
Http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!