R.I.P story poem
Here where once there used to be.
A quiet village cemetery
A hallowed place in which to find
Tranquillity and peace of mind.
The graveyard served the village well
Though for how long no man can tell.
I’m sad to say the village died.
The land on which they all relied.
Suddenly lost fertility.
The people facing poverty.
Saw no good reason they should stay
and one by one they moved away.
To other places far from here
they seemed to simply disappear
to destinations we don’t know.
They had no choice they had to go
Houses fell into disrepair
because there was no one to care.
The passing years were none too kind.
There’s very little left to find.
Bar rotten floorboards here and there.
Weeds in profusion everywhere
The churchyard too is over grown
with brambles hiding each gravestone.
A long forgotten tragedy
a piece of ancient history.
The city suburbs must expand
and in their search for building land.
The greedy eyes are cast this way.
They know they will not have to pay.
The true worth of this empty land,
The kind of price it will command.
When it is cleared ready to build.
They hope their coffers will be filled.
But fate has other plans in mind
and to their great surprise they’ll find
That they have made a grave mistake.
The profits which they hope to make.
Will not now materialise.
Because they failed recognise.
The old grave yard as hallowed ground
Despite the evidence they found.
They wantonly destroyed head stones
showed no respect for buried bones.
It makes me happy to report
the vaunted plans all came to naught.
Because some archaeologists
Researching local history lists
Discovered this old cemetery
and they decided it must be.
Preserved in perpetuity
for generations yet to be.
The greedy men had lost their cash
Their dreams of profit turned to ash
the damage done for no reward.
The good folk who were buried here
can sleep in peace they need not fear.
That their rest will be disturbed.
The greedy builders have been curbed.
A happy ending to my tale
Their efforts were to no avail.
It seems that fate itself decreed
they must be punished for their greed.
Wednesday,28 July 2010 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Live and let live
A long abandoned grave yard lies
outside the city boundary.
It has become a paradise,
A well established sanctuary.
Unwanted pets turned out to roam
by cruel owners who don’t care.
Are welcome here to make a home
amongst their wilder brethren there.
beside the graves in disrepair
or in the brambles overgrown.
They are quite sure to find a lair,
some place that they can call their own.
Although the predators still prey
They’re only acting naturally
by following Dame Natures way.
They co exist quite happily.
Eat or be eaten is the law.
You will not get a second chance
for nature’s red in tooth and claw.
The price of life is vigilance.
At least they live free from fear
of mans unthinking cruelty
Few humans ever venture near
this abandoned cemetery.
13-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Long Forgotten for Friend David Threadgold
Who dares?
Disturb my peace
after so may years.
My sleep
was undisturbed.
Who is it dares to peep.
This grave
is mine alone.
It is all that I have.
To show
who I once was.
What do you seek to know?
My bones.
Are all that’s left
here beneath these stones.
Which mark
my resting place
Here in the quiet dark.
Begone
you have no right
in truth to look upon.
Remains
mouldering here
What do you hope to gain.
Leave me
in peace and go.
Your curiosity
Is no
concern of mine.
Why should you seek to know.
Why I
am buried here.
Dry bones will not reply.
My curse
will fall on you.
Things go from bad to worse.
Swiftly
flee from this place.
Where you’re not meant to be.
I lay
hidden from sight
for years until today.
Why do
you disturb me.
There is no reason to.
Leave me
to sleep in peace
here where I ought to be.
Alone
Contentedly
hidden away unknown
.14-Sep-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Old Artefacts Reveal New Facts
This used to be a dwelling place
For members of the human race
Two thousand years or so ago.
The passing years have changed it though.
Today the archeologists
Seek to penetrate the mists.
There’s very little they can see
Which will support their theory.
The evidence lies underground
Buried; waiting to be found
By those equipped to recognise
a broken pot can be a prize.
Which might well prove they were correct
If they can find as they expect
Sufficient evidence to show
that humans dwelt here long ago.
If they are luck they will find
Amongst detritus left behind
Artefacts discarded by
The folks who used to occupy.
The houses that there used to be
Which formed a small community.
They are completely confident
.This was a stone age settlement.
The tools they found all made of stone
Except for needles made of bone.
No signs of metal to be found
Their reasoning seems to be sound.
I think that they have proved their case.
And added to their knowledge base.
I watch the time team on TV
And I am privileged to see.
The work of experts in the field
as they persuade the earth yield
the evidence for which they seek.
Each site they work on is unique.
Each find adds something to the store
Sometimes they find a great deal more.
Than what they can expect to find
They have to keep an open mind.
Sometimes great treasures can be found
Long buried in a funeral mound.
But mostly much more mundane things
a coin or two, brooches and rings.
Each find recorded carefully
Examined scientifically
The use of modern technology
can date the finds more accurately.
Than what they could do in the past
Some times the findings overcast.
Theories long held to be true
replacing them with something new.
I find the programme satisfies
My avid curiosity.
When can watch before my eyes
unfolding of a mystery.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Forward Planning.
God rest ye greedy merchants all.
The time has come when you display
the tawdry goods you hope to sell
to foolish folk prepared to pay.
Much more than what your goods are worth.
To give as gifts on Christmas day
Your tills are ringing merrily
in tune with carols which you play
Creating an ambience which
encourages folks to spend.
A great deal more than otherwise
On which your profits will depend.
I have no doubt you’re planning to
make more profits at Easter too.
Saturday,27 November 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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It's up to you for M lady Flora
The mist that crept in from the sea.
Advancing inexorably,
enveloped first the sandy beach.
Then well beyond the high tides reach
Invaded streets and avenues
the thoroughfares that people use.
To go about their business.
A wet and cold unpleasantness.
Which nobody had seen before
at least along that friendly shore.
Exuding sheer hostility
as if the demons of the sea.
Deciding that humanity.
had forfeited their right to be.
Had gathered there with one intent
to prove the sea omniscient.
The villagers were sore afraid
some cursed and swore while others prayed.
Though neither made much difference.
Against such mist there’s no defence.
The village disappeared from sight.
Hid by a mist as black as night.
When morning broke there was no one.
No body left to greet the sun.
Now to this day the village stands
although nobody understands.
What happened on that dreadful night
when the sea fret absorbed the light.
No one survived to tell the tale.
Enough to make the bravest quail.
Perhaps you think I’m telling lies
But you will find to your surprise.
If you should choose to visit me
from my front window you can see.
The evidence that what say
A village empty to this day.
Nobody dares to move into
the empty village and renew
a single house in which to live.
Because of legends kept alive.
By older folks who can recall
the night the demons came to call.
If you should wish to you could buy
the whole village and you could try.
To sell the houses one by one
if you’re convinced it can be done.
I think your work would be in vain
What happened once could come again.
To local folks it is taboo
and there is nothing you can do.
but try to sell to foreigners
Who do not know about the curse.
I own the site and I would sell
quite cheaply and I’d wish you well
If you’re prepared to take the chance
There’s been a change of circumstance.
For there are profits to be made.
Maybe the mist will not invade
maybe the tales I tell aren’t true
what you believe is up to you.
I am too old to change my ways
and I prefer to end my days
believing as I’ve always done.
This village should left alone.
24-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Greed..
Greed will make you hurngry
you'll never get enough...
it can tear a life apart
Greed is nasy stuff..
don't get greedy - don't be greedy
once you let yoursef be greedy
you can't go back again...
(i'm telling ya man...)
i know a man named Jessy
his Grandma was sitting good..
he set out to win her turst
and take everything he could..
he got greedy
he was greedy..
Jessy let himself get greedy
And He can't go back again...
Greed turns family on family
makes a friend the enemy
it can turn you on your Grandma
blinding you so you can't see..
it will turn you on your parents..
and tear your world apart..
there's no way you can change it
once you let it in your heart..
don't be greedy
don't get greedy..
once you let yoursef be greedy
you can't go back again...
once someone has been cheated
or swindeled it's a shame
greed will leave them cold and Angry
with only You to blame....
no one will ever trust you
trust gets burried in the past..
you're better of financialy'
but money it won't last..
don't get greedy don't be greedy
once you let yourself be greedy
you can't go back again...
once greed becomes a partner
and all is said and done..
when your lookin down at a grave...
can you really feel you won?
you now have more than others
you worked hard to steal it all..
others may have earned it but
your the one who made that call..
no one thought you'd do it
it never crossed their mind..
they trusted that you would be fair
but that was once upon a time...
you let yoursef get greedy,
you got greedy
And once you let yourself be greedy
you can't go back again....
someday you'll miss your sister
your parents and cousins too..
the black sheep of the family
will turn a lonesome blue...
don't be greedy, don't get greedy
once you let yourself be greedy
you can't go back again...
poem by Connetta Jean
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When the time is right for M'lady Ernestine
Broad sonnet
We search for love to no avail. We try too hard and so we fail.
Although it may seem curious, fate knows much better than us.
When we are ready for a mate and then she does not hesitate.
She sets the time she sets the place, when she will bring us face to face.
With the partner of our dreams although to us it always seems.
That we have met by accident, but we did not it was by intent.
Fate knows exactly what we need and with her help we will succeed.
In finding what we have searched for. We don’t need to search anymore
We have been chosen carefully and who are we to disagree
We are quite sure our dreams come true, precisely as fate means us to.
It might be just co incidence, what matters is the consequence.
The end result is we got wed. I think that fate accomplished.
The task that she set out to do, for you love me and I love you.
You don’t find love, love will find you but not until it’s ready to..
Monday,22 March 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The City
You said, "I will go to another land, I will go to another sea.
Another city will be found, a better one than this.
Every effort of mine is a condemnation of fate;
and my heart is -- like a corpse -- buried.
How long will my mind remain in this wasteland.
Wherever I turn my eyes, wherever I may look
I see black ruins of my life here,
where I spent so many years destroying and wasting."
You will find no new lands, you will find no other seas.
The city will follow you. You will roam the same
streets. And you will age in the same neighborhoods;
and you will grow gray in these same houses.
Always you will arrive in this city. Do not hope for any other --
There is no ship for you, there is no road.
As you have destroyed your life here
in this little corner, you have ruinded it in the entire world.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Money Talks
The village streets are dark and cold.
Most stay at home and watch T.V
Its not the place it used be
when coal was king in days of old.
When miners earned a princely wage.
The village pubs were thriving then,
those days will never come again.
Commuting now is all the rage.
The many pubs are all closed down
the shops have dwindled to a few.
There is so little we can do
We have shop in the next town.
But they are building everywhere.
New houses thrown up in a flash
For other folk who have the cash
The planners do not seem to care.
This valley is a beauty spot
where tacky houses spoil the view.
An old complaint forever new
I can complain. Why should I not.
I’m not against making progress.,
Sometimes a change is for the best
when it is made at our request.
It seems our choice grows ever less.
The speculators buy the land.
Pull down the pubs which they replace
with houses tightly packed in place.
The only thing they understand.
is how much profit they can make.
Their balance sheets must always show
how they can make their money grow.
They are in charge make no mistake..
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Interacting Awareness
Every so often
is felt inner desire
an urge
to migrate
to city centre
focus of interaction
to touch pulse
feel heartbeat
immerse in movement
before returning
to shadow life
in solitary suburb.
On the periphery
guarding the heartseed
of dissipated land.
Lost in economics.
Best fertile productive land
worth doubles more if
for housing quick profit sold.
Best agricultural land lost
rich crops lost for ever more.
Rich rich soil so rare so rare
is true wealth of nation
build houses on worthless land.
People eat blessing of God given land
feeding people is blessing of mighty God.
To lay waste in greed to God given land
is to invite blight famine of greedy hand.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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What Becomes Of The Brokenhearted
As I walk this land of broken dreams
I have visions of many things
Loves happiness is just an illusion
Filled with sadness and confusion
What becomes of the brokenhearted
Who had love thats now departed
I know Ive got to find
Some kind of peace of mind maybe
The fruits of love grow all around
But for me they come tumbling down
Everyday heartaches grow a little stronger
I cant stand this pain much longer
I walk in shadows searching for light
Cold and alone no comfort in sight
Hoping and praying or someone to care
Always moving and going nowhere
What becomes of the brokenhearted
Who had love thats now departed
I know Ive got to find
Some kind of peace of mind baby
Im searching though I dont succeed
But someone look theres a growing need
Oh he is lost theres no place for beginning
All thats left is an unhappy ending
Now what becomes of the brokenhearted
Who had love thats now departed
I know Ive got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
Ill be searching everywhere
Just to find someone to care
Ill be looking every day
I know Im gonna find a way
Nothings gonna stop me now
I will find a way somehow
song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Razor Love
I got to bet that your old man
Became fascinated with his own plans
Turned you loose, your mama too
There wasnt a thing that you could do.
I got faith in you, its the kind of love
That cuts clean through.
I got faith in you, its a razor love
And its true.
And you really made my day
With the little things you say
Right now Im looking through the window at a silhouette
Trying to find something I can find yet
Imagination is my best friend
Got to watch out for the greedy hand, greedy hand
Make a living like a rolling stone
On the road theres no place like home
Silhouettes on the window.
Who was it made your eyes flicker like that
Tell me baby, where do get the knack
I came to you with open arms
And I really took you down the track
Now all Ive got for you is the kind of love
That cuts clean through.
All I got for you is razor love
That cuts clean through.
You really made my day
With the little things you say
Right now Im looking through the window at a silhouette
Trying to find something I can find yet
Imagination is my best friend
Got to watch out for the greedy hand, greedy hand
Make a living like a rolling stone
On the road theres no place like home
Silhouettes on the window.
I got to bet that your old man
Became fascinated with his own plans.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Needy, The Greedy
This weight in the world
Balanced in paper
One side falls asleep
Dreaming of what they want
The other side
Dreaming of what they need
Existence demeaning
Nothing For filling
They see what they want
Considering no one
The need, the Greed
Living in the Material World
For the Material Boys & Girls
Isn't all that it seems
Knowledge of nothing
Respect lingering
Comfort exceeding
The Greed of one
Becomes so strong
They Live On
Lost of land
The Greedy Man
Abandoned Alone
All in His Command
Done Nothing Wrong
Beats them down
A Heart of One
One For None
With dirt in their eyes
Sitting in the Cold winter as the fire dies
Hope of their needs
They bleed
Running Along
No place to go
Lives played with
Hearts grow strong
As the days creep on
The Need of one
Becomes so Strong
Death becomes one
Lost of land
The Greedy Man
Abandoned Alone
All in His Command
Done Nothing Wrong
Beats them down
A Heart of One
One For None
On top of the world
Nothing to Prove
Comes Greed and Attitude
Down in the dump
Searching for food
Despair is the factor
In this unfair world
The Greedy Man
Wins again
The Days die on
As they fade away
poem by Aaron Banen
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What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted
As I walk this land of broken dreams
I have visions of many things
But happiness is just an illusion
Filled with sadness and confusion
What becomes of the brokenhearted
Who had love thats now departed
I know Ive got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
Maybe
The roots of love grow all around
But for me they come a tumbling down
Every day heartaches grow a little stronger
I cant stand this pain much longer
I walk in shadows searching for light
Cold and alone no comfort in sight
Hoping and praying for someone who cares
Always moving and going nowhere
What becomes of the brokenhearted
Who had love thats now departed
I know Ive got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
Help me, please
Im searching though I dont succeed
For someones love theres a growing need
All is lost theres no place for beginning
All thats left is an unhappy ending
Now what becomes of the brokenhearted
Who had love thats now departed
I know Ive got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
Ill be searching everywhere
Just to find someone to care
Ill be looking every day
I know Im gonna find a way
Nothings going to stop me now
Ill find a way somehow
What becomes of the broken hearted
Who had love thats now departed
I know Ive got to find
Some kind of peace of mind, maybe
Oh yeah
What becomes of the broken hearted
Who had love thats now departed
What becomes of the broken hearted
Who had love thats now departed
What becomes of the broken hearted
song performed by by Westlife
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dancing Maidens for M'lady Tara
Tall standing stones still mark the spot.
Where Sunday dancers turned to stone.
You may believe or you may not
But sometimes standing there alone.
I try to solve the mystery.
All legends hold a grain of truth.
lost in the mists of history.
It may be just a tale to soothe.
The anger of those pious fools
who thought enjoyment was a sin
and formulated their strict rules.
That may have been the origin
But I think that the stones date back
since before Christianity.
Before the churchmen could attack
the dreadful sin of gaiety…
Nobody knows who raised the stones
nor yet the reason they were placed.
A monument to guard dead bones.
The passing years have long erased.
What evidence there might have been
and left no clues for us to find
They can present an eerie scene
Which leaves its mark upon your mind.
They say on certain nights they dance
but only when the moon is full.
If you should see them dance by chance.
The maidens are so beautiful,
no other maid will satisfy
The lust which they inspire in you.
You will stay single til you die
because no human maid will do.
I don’t believe that this is true
I think it very fanciful.
But happily admit to you
I stay home when the moon is full.
18-Sep-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Success For Jon london
Deep down below your conscious mind
another different world exists
Where it is possible to find
discarded dreams you left behind.
Because you chose to chase success.
You put your cherished dreams on hold,
your only thought to make progress
Towards your goal of more not less.
The happiness you hoped to find
In truth was just another dream
You fell for lies which were designed
to cloud your clarity of mind.
They succeeded obviously.
You were seduced by greed into
a frame of mind which enviously
Demanded that you try to be.
The only winner in the race.
The man inspiring jealousy,
the leading man who set the pace.
Your one desire to hold your place.
Until the day you realise
Riches can not buy happiness
A thought which takes you by surprise
There is no room for compromise.
Success cannot be measured by
how much you earn and what you own
Such trappings cannot satisfy
the early dreams you let slip by.
The dreams you might have made come true
Ambitions that you left behind
are waiting still to welcome you.
Success is finding peace of mind.
So you resign from the rat race
There is no reason to compete
You do not need to hold first place
A simpler way of life is sweet.
You can rescue discarded dreams
and try your best to make them true.
Those youthful madcap crazy schemes
that you dreamt up belong to you.
You’ve wasted years amassing wealth.
Which never brought you happiness
Paid scant regard to your own health
when nothing mattered but success.
Although success can be defined
In different ways by different men.
For me success is peace of mind
Which I was glad to find again.
1-Mar-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter CXXXV: Greedy
I'm not hopeless
I'm not obsessed
I'm just greedy
I know I should stop
I know my limit
I'm just greedy
I don't want to lose anything
I refuse to release something
I'm just greedy
Even it drains me dry
Even it wears me down
I'm just greedy
I'm not crazy
I'm not dangerous
I'm just greedy
I'm not in manic depression
I'm under a perfect control
I'm just greedy
I depending on that look
I clinging for that hope
I'm just greedy
If compared to the evil mind
If compared to the cruel traitor
I'm just greedy
I'm possessive
I'm territory man
I'm just greedy
I will clutch tighter
I will sink deeper
I'm just greedy
I never have enough
I always demand more and more
I'm just greedy
Though you should hate me
Though I should not be forgiven
I'm just greedy
I'm not only egoist
I'm not only aggressive
I'm just greedy
I am not getting tired
I will still move forward
I'm just greedy
I'm not monster
I'm not fearless either
I'm just greedy
You could call me over confidence
You could call me irresponsible
I'm just greedy
I'm insatiable
I'm a gaping hole
I'm just greedy
I'm sneaky
I'll steal every chance
I'm just greedy
I'm addicted to warmth
I need undivided attention
I'm just greedy
Don't worry about me
Don't put your guard on me
I'm just greedy
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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anything is possible For M'lady Tara
I’d been driving since early morn
and some where I had gone astray
I was weary and travel worn.
I had to find a place to stay.
A good nights rest, a hearty meal
would make a new man out of me
I hoped the road would soon
reveal a wayside inn or hostelry.
I had not seen another soul
since I had left the main highway.
This single track seemed to unroll
in front of me in some strange way.
I was too tired to concentrate
I was fatigued and needed rest
I knew the hour was growing lat
and I decided it would be best
To book into the first hotel
or bed and breakfast I could find.
Either one would suit me well
I did not care I would not mind.
Just then I saw some way ahead
a building with a sign outside.
When I got closer I could read.
Be welcome stranger step inside.
I parked my car just off the track
and boldly knocked upon the door.
Which slowly opened just a crack
then gradually a little more
Until at last it opened wide.
That doors gey stiff, a sharp voice said.
An ancient lady stood inside.
I asked her if she had a bed.
I have two rooms and they’re both free
the season hasn’t started yet.
So come you in where you can see
It is not often that I get.
A visitor at all these days
not since they built the carrigeway
She fanned the fire into a blaze.
She was quite certain I would stay.
She showed me to a cosy room
and said she would prepare a meal.
An oil lamp would relieve the gloom.
It seemed that I had struck a deal.
I did not care how much it cost
I had to eat and needed rest
I told her that I had got lost
and had decided it was best
To find some place to spend the night
before I had an accident
She said she thought that I was right
and I should bide the night content.
Tomorrow was another day.
I ate my meal and went to bed.
How long I slept I cannot say
When I awoke I found instead.
Of being warm and dry in bed
I was outside beneath the sky.
My old suit case pillowed my head.
Now I will wonder til I die.
If it was merely some strange dream
created by my tired mind.
Or had I entered some time stream
to find what I needed to find
Which took me back to yester year.
When folks lived at a slower pace
The memory is crystal clear
although I could not find a trace.
There was no record anywhere
to prove the house had ever been.
Officials thought me mad I fear
when I described the house I’d seen.
I had it researched thoroughly
By local experts in this field
But they found no more trace than I
At last I gave up forced to yield.
Admit my search had been in vain
Although it defies common sense
the memories which I retain
are not a matter of pretence.
I do not often share this tale
which I believe to be quite true.
I know quite well that I should fail
If I attempt to convince you.
I know from past experience.
Though there are some but very few.
Who listen to me with patience
and can admit it could be true.
Some things can never be explained
although they are improbable.
I only know that I’ve retained
Belief that all is possible.
31-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Peace be with you (Latin-Pax Vobiscum)
Oh God! I need a quiet place,
Where flows the nectar of peace,
Not that kind of dead peace,
In the grave, one finds with ease.
I went to the Himalayas Mountain,
But peace there was no certain,
As the solitude tore my mind,
A little peace when I tried to find.
I heard good spiritual lectures,
Those from eminent preachers,
For peace, I left no place unturned,
But with a perturbed mind I returned.
Tell me, oh God, that unknown place,
Where lies that elusive peace,
What I need, now I can find,
So, I’ll have peace of mind.
God answered, “Hey you fool,
First learn to keep yourself cool,
Don’t search elsewhere out,
But dive deep into your heart.”
“Peace isn’t an object that lies outside,
But it’s a feeling that’s generated inside.
Learn to cultivate peace in your heart.
To enjoy this peace, better you now start.”
“Know this I’m in your heart.
I fill it up with peace quite a lot.
This divine peace when you merit,
No need to go elsewhere for it.”
poem by Rajaram Ramachandran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Today might be my lucky day.
Today might be my lucky day.
At auction sales I choose to buy
Odd quirky things that catch my eye.
I do not have a lot to spend
So in the end I must depend.
On buying things which I select
That greedy dealers would reject.
They only buy what the can sell.
From which they hope to profit well.
Attending auctions is my pleasure
Perhaps one day I’ll find a treasure.
Something the dealers left behind.
For amateurs like me to find
To benefit from their mistakes
A little luck is all it takes.
Saturday,03 December 2011
http: // blog.myspace, com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!