Penitent for Friend Konstantin
A gentleman in every way.
A relic from a bygone day.
His clothes well cut but out of date,
in his own time a fashion plate.
He’s not as he appears to be.
He is a ghost apparently.
Always appears at half past three
then disappears mysteriously.
Though who he was nobody knows.
A gentleman judged by his clothes,
we only know he comes and goes.
Because he has to I suppose.
A visitor from long ago
Though why he comes we may not know.
Perhaps he comes to demonstrate
that once he was a fashion plate.
Maybe condemned for too much pride
a fatal flaw he could not hide.
He must display at half past three
until he learns humility
.18-Feb-09 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Rip Off for M lady Tara
Designer labels I won’t buy.
Because I see no reason why
I should be advertising free
I think they should be paying me.
The prices asked truly obscene
I am quite sure they would have been
without the label half the price.
There’s no end to their avarice.
I will not be their willing tool
I pride myself I’m not a fool
Should I see something which I like
I buy a cheaper look alike.
Though you prefer designer clothes.
I don’t, I won’t pay through the nose.
28-Oct-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Please youreslf
I think that ladies should ignore
The dictates of the fashion trade
The doubtful claims of haute couture
by so called experts often made.
A wise lady will choose her clothes
to show her assets at their best.
Not as the expert all suppose
to look exactly like the rest.
Dress to suit your face and figure
There is no need to buy in haste
clothes which make your rivals snigger.
Have faith in your own good taste.
Women come in many shades
different shapes and different sizes.
Mature matrons and slim young maids.
Every one that some man prizes.
A well dressed women who stands out.
Knows full well what she’s about.
She won’t let the experts tell her
how to dress to please her feller.
Some women have good fashion sense
but many lack the confidence
to tell the experts to get lost.
They can dress well at half the cost.
Fashion labels may sell clothes
but only silly girls suppose.
Only the latest style will do.
When obviously it is not true.
Suit yourself in the way you dress.
Choose the clothes that will suit you
If you do you will impress
in the way you ought to do.
Let all the fashion gurus prate
But don’t believe a word they say.
You know that you will look great
when you dress in your own way
Fashions come and fashions go.
You know when you’re looking good
What do the so called experts know? .
Ignore them as you know you should.
8-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Futility
The scarecrow dressed in cast off clothes.
Sticks grimly to his given task
But does he frighten off the crows,
that is the question we must ask.
When he is new perhaps he will
but crows are wise and realise.
This ragged figure stands stock still
and will not take them by surprise.
He cannot move, inanimate.
Which leaves then free to eat their fill.
A guardian quite inadequate.
He does not and he never will.
Frighten the crows who are too wise
to be afraid of straw stuffed clothes
Though he appears in manly guise
he can’t deter the hungry crows.
The scarecrow fails in his attempt.
He never really stood a chance
Crows treat him with amused contempt
and disregard his vigilance.
5-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Hope overcomes experience.
I understand that love can die.
Without a cause apparently.
There is no point in asking why.
We must accept that agony
replaces erstwhile ecstasy
We used to share so long ago.
So we decide reluctantly
the time has come we must let go.
We can retain fond memories
or do our damndest to forget
though neither can be done with ease.
Because we are not ready yet.
No doubt we’ll fall in love again
undeterred by our past pain.
Thursday,27 May 2010
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A matter of choice for M'Lady Indira
Some take their writing seriously
Whilst others are just dilettantes
Though my muse states imperiously,
that I must write the way she wants
The duties writers undertake
are manifold and various.
They have to write make no mistake
on subjects light or serious.
They know it is their duty to
deflate the self important fools.
Who in their ignorance pursue
a vain attempt to scrap all rules.
Discard the lessons of the past.
Insisting anything will do.
A fashion I am sure wont last
when readers can compare it to.
Fine verse that stood the test of time.
The glories of formality
by masters of meter and rhyme.
Which they left for posterity.
Though I concede all have the right,
to write in any way they choose.
To some free form is sheer delight.
All down to taste I must suppose.
26-Jul-08
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Somebody's son.
A bloated corpse floats on the flood
But who he was nobody knows.
He was intent that no one should
Removed the labels from his clothes.
Made sure he carried no I.D
He had his reasons I suppose
to choose anonymity.
I must admit it baffles me.
He’s just another suicide
another tragic incident.
He’ll never be identified.
Unless perhaps by accident
He died voluntarily
and left behind a mystery.
Monday,29 March 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Sheela Na Gig
Sheela na Gig immodest maid.
A symbol of fertility.
Although the Christian church forbade
.She still appears quite frequently.
Her effigies protected by
stern laws and heavy penalties.
The old beliefs refuse to die
to no one but the priests surprise.
Sheela na Gig with legs apart
displays her femininity.
Some think her crude but she’s a part
of Irelands ancient history.
If to your eye she appears lewd
I must conclude you are a prude.
16-Sep-08
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Whites Sepulchre
Although he may purport to be, a paragon of piety.
His “Hobby” of photography, a cover for pornography
The more perverse the faster sales, because his market never fails
He grows rich from obscenity although outwardly he seems to be.
An honest upright gentleman and a professing Christian.
Apparently respectable. Which goes to show you cannot tell.
What lies behind the masks we wear, we do not ask we do not dare.
The public image we present can be destroyed by accident
When at long last he is brought to book exposed for what he is a crook.
We look again and we can see the depths of his depravity.
Although it takes us by surprise he loses stature in our eyes.
We used to hold him in respect, we see him now as a reject.
from all polite society and view his downfall gleefully.
5-Dec-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Happpy Heretic
The seven deadly sins must be.
Reserved for Cardinals and such
who are completely out of touch
with everyday reality
For they believe apparently.
That greed is asking far too much
but gluttony can be a crutch
for those who live in misery
And seeming sloth could be M.E.
Rendered blind by their own pride,
They raise their voice in righteous wrath.
I think perhaps they envy me
because I do not have to hide
my sins. I’m free to choose my path.
18-Oct-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Mrs 'Fashion Queen
Oh Mrs fashion queen
humor me,
in telling me of days
where all that you ever dream
is matching the green and grays
but Mrs fashion queen
what does fashion mean?
is it something you can explain?
cause last time i checked
it didn't mean wearing that same thing everyday
Clothes, clothes everywhere
'oh chick check out my style! '
but honey you look as if you just
got rescued from the wild
'Oh tatyana please stop,
you'll hurt the girls feeling! '
Well it's for her better good
this girl needs some fashionable healing
So before you decide to blink
why don't you stop and think
Oh Mrs 'Fashion Queen'
C'mon everybody take a peak!
poem by Tatyana Hayes
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Perfection for M Lady Allison
White chrysanthemum.
symbol of purity.
Perfect medium
chosen very carefully
by a man who knows
elegant simplicity.
His selection shows
his perspicacity.
The flower he chose
becomes the epitome
of his skill for all to see.
None can disagree
Artistry and modesty
On display apparently.
Choka sonnet
2-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Summertime? 2006 for M lady Ernestine
.
Now is the winter of our discontent.
Although I must confess it seems to me,
this is not how things are supposed to be.
It goes against established precedent.
The months of summer in the past were spent
outdoors in pleasant sunshine happily.
Though not this year it has rained constantly.
I’m left to wonder where the summer went
The global warming warnings have been changed
Now climate change seems to dominate the new
Expert’s opinions have been rearranged.
Each day appears to change their views.
Their arguments with each other ranged
from certainty to I don’t know what is true.
3-Sep-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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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Surface Show for M 'lady Ernestine
Mayhap my lady teaseth me
When she derides the way I dress.
She mocketh me for soberness
But I forgive her readily
In all else though she pleaseth me.
She knows right well I must impress
my masters with my worthiness
That’s why I dress so soberly.
Though she can flaunt her finery
As well befits a pretty maid
But I alas must remain staid
When we are in society.
But when we are alone she knows
That I can act quite differently.
When I can don much brighter clothes
Which she approves apparently.
I am a peacock in disguise
which to my lady’s no surprise.
Sunday,17 January 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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There's nothing There! ! for M lady Ernestine
She rules the roost behind the scenes.
Although her husband wears the jeans.
She lets him show he is the boss
but there are lines he dare not cross.
For all his manly macho show
she knows it’s only bravado.
More importantly so does he
which he accepts apparently.
He knows quite well who’s in control
but still he plays his public role.
She treats him deferentially
whilst there’s an audience to see.
Like any man who’s seen the light.
He knows that she is always right.
Her slightest wish is his command
which isn’t hard to understand.
He’s not the tough guy he appears
She has been training him for years.
He knows: She knows, he knows she knows
His public image is a pose.
1-Jun-08
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Of course sweetheart for M lady Tara
She rules the roost behind the scenes.
Although her husband wears the jeans.
She lets him show he is the boss
but there are lines he dare not cross.
For all his manly macho show
she knows it’s only bravado.
More importantly so does he
which he accepts apparently.
He knows quite well who’s in control
but still he plays his public role.
She treats him deferentially
whilst there’s an audience to see.
Like any man who’s seen the light.
He knows that she is always right.
Her slightest wish is his command
which isn’t hard to understand.
He’s not the tough guy he appears
She has been training him for years.
He knows: She knows, he knows she knows
His public image is a pose.
1-Jun-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Nice try
I am a Christian gentleman.
I would like to, if you agree
to fall in with my little plan
to get to know you Biblically.
She was well read; she slapped his face.
She knew exactly what he meant
and put him firmly in his place.
She made her anger evident
She was quite pleased though secretly,
that he found her desirable
but did not want to let him see
that she might be persuadable.
His chat up line original
its chance of success minimal.
21-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Self Condemned.
The sound of silence echoing,
beneath an unforgiving sky.
This is the place of reckoning.
All my past sins parading by.
I am abandoned and alone.
As I know I deserve to be.
Is there no way I can atone
for things I did unthinkingly?
Must I endure this misery
behind the walls which I have built.
Condemned to watch eternally
the evidence of my past guilt.
But love can reach you even there
Love can absolve you of your sin
and rescue you from black despair.
But first you must invite love in.
Love holds the key to set you free
from self imposed imprisonment.
Accept love unconditionally.
Release from your predicament.
You’re not as guilty as you feel.
You are no worse than other men
Why should you then try to conceal
your guilt.. It’s Time to start again.
Absorb the lessons from the past
Resolve this time you’ll get right
and in due course you’ll find you’ve passed
from darkness into bright sunlight.
27-Dec-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Naani for Subarraman N.V.
War will persist
as long as men exist.
Men have the will and skill to kill.
They always had and always will.
Peace apparently
an impossibility.
Men expect hostility
Universally.
Why should this be?
It seems to me
we were meant to live peacefully.
In perfect amity.
6-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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