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The Phantom spoke. He said repent.
I replied I’m innocent.
The Phantom spoke again annoyed
You must repent or be destroyed.
I can’t repent what I’ve not done
I think my friend you should begone
You seem to have your wires crossed.
It seems to me you have got lost
I am Mother Superior.
I’m not who you are looking for
Why don’t you try the Vatican
where if you try I’m sure you can
find many there in residence.
Though they protest their innocence
Evil men, so called priests
who have behaved like rutting beasts.
Protected by the Mother Church
Which has obstructed every search
Misuse of power to delay
every attempt to make them pay.
The Phantom groaned, apologised
confessed he had been ill advised
and would go to investigate.
The Holy See, The city state.
I understand he is there still
his sacred duties to fulfil.
I rather think that he will be
kept busy for eternity.
25/06/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Parental Guidance
Sang the Father to his only Son,
'Rejoice! Rejoice!
Before
your life's time has come
'fore it all
is said and done! Rejoice! Rejoice!
Rejoice! whilst thou remains
bless'd vigor and young!
Rejoice in all good humor and health!
Rejoice!
for the inherent miracle and wonder
of creation's living wealth!
Rejoice when thou hath come of age
and like time
I in physical have come to pass
remember to Rejoice then
my torch bearing son
Rejoice! Rejoice!
In singing the collective unborn
death surpassing carol of ONE! '
'Repent � Repent'
hush'd the warning of the mother
to her youngest tight warm wrapped
meek lap sitting
child
'Repent � Repent my timid little lambkin
today whilst thou remains innocent
and the sun doth shine
its ever youthful forgiving
smile
before the furious tempests
and fatherly stallions
of vengeance and wrath
over earth run wild
Repent... my child
Repent
Repent... Repent My tender babe
for every birth brings forth another
bless'd chance to be saved'
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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The Phantom
The Phantom stalks these many halls
The tunnels and the many rooms here
His distorted features hidden from sight
And he will not come too near
The Phantom strikes when we expect it least
When our defences are down and we are weak
His purpose is served with a beautiful girl
In times when the outcome looks bleak
The Phantom haunts the mind and soul
Of both lovers and the lonely in the night
The path of destruction is opened wide
And the scene is set for an epic fight
The Phantom though is not a real man
No demon or monster from hell
But the power we all hold in our hearts
That of which the great romantics tell
The Phantom is love both good and bad
Distorted as we are when he takes our hand
He hides in the chambers of our heart
Until the day his purpose we understand.
poem by Anthony Lund
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Return Of The Phantom Stranger
Shape shifting high
And a haunted eye.
Falling plastic and paper demons!
No trace of time,
Im branded sly,
I am your ghostmaster baby free me.
All you know,
Is alone,
You see a,
Phantom stranger!
Down you go,
All alone,
You love my,
Phantom strange!r
My sinister sounds
Sweep the grounds
Still-born I lie beneath it
I throw it away
The freaks all stay
Deformed and laughing screaming!
All you know,
Is alone,
You see a,
Phantom stranger!
Down you go,
All alone,
You love my,
Phantom stranger!
A wretched heart
In the dark decay,
Dominate forever...
Destroy the things you love
And see if I remember
All you know,
Is alone,
You see a,
Phantom stranger!
Down you go
All alone
You love my,
Phantom stranger!
song performed by by Rob Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I should Have Known
Dined with the devil yesterday.
A charming chap I have to say.
He was quite debonair and gay
and conversed in a cultured way.
He did his best to tempt me to
do the things one shouldn’t do.
But as he offered nothing new
to my own standards I held true.
I do not claim I’m innocent
I have done things which I repent.
A truth which is self evident
and not a cause for discontent.
He smiled at me disarmingly
and whispered to me charmingly.
He was content to wait and see
Sure I would fall eventually.
That he could wait there was no rush.
I had to jump he could not push
He wished me well, went on his way
but stuck me with the bill to pay.
12-Jun-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Repenting is more soothing
At my mother’s wilting stage,
I didn’t serve her, nor provided her.
Now I repent.
I repeat it to my father.
I will repent.
Repenting is not compensating.
Repenting yet seems more soothing.
22.05.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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What Will The Pagans Say?
When Christ snatches The Church away, what will all the pagans say?
Even when explained with zeal, they don’t believe the rapture’s real.
When God removes all The Light, will they even attempt what’s right?
Christ will come like a thief in the night taking from earth all His Light.
When God removes His Holy Throng, will they break out in evil song?
For God will take His called out ones to be with Jesus His Only Son.
Will men’s hearts melt with fear when they see that Judgment is here?
For every fool my friend will see as they kneel on their wicked knee.
Will they finally believe in God as they experience Christ’s Iron Rod?
The rod He uses upon the nations, who refuse His Great Salvation.
From their heart will they curse as Judgment goes from bad to worse?
For Christ will Judge how all men trod with His Justice and Iron Rod.
When God’s Judgment does not relent, how many men will truly repent?
Then Christ will separate men my friend, when He returns at the end.
Will men finally fear The Lord, or will they continue to scoff and scorn?
For He wants all men to relent, if not, to Hell forever they shall be sent.
By the time Jesus does return will these men repent or will they burn?
Friend you must believe in The Lord or you will be smoke forevermore.
Won’t you take time my friend to embrace God’s Truth before The End?
For this is still The Age of Grace and all men still can seek God’s Face.
(Copyright ©09/2004)
I have decided: Finally.
My family donated me to mother church, a priest to be.
Because no one consulted me, I had no chance to disagree.
So in due course I was ordained and found I’d lost more than I gained
The church had educated me. I’d won a double first degree
My parents did what they thought best they acted in my interest.
There was no way I could protest. Though I must say I’m not impressed with the way that things were done and recently I have begun.
To realise resentfully my future was mapped out for me.
I am expected to repress the normal feelings I possess.
A problem which all priests address. I am a man no more no less.
I am quite certain that I would not have chosen the priesthood.
I have decided that I should quit the priesthood and for good
The practice of celibacy seems quite unnatural to me.
I am convinced a priest should be free to have a family.
The church has made a grave mistake expecting every priest to take
A vow which causes so much heart ache. I must resign: Make a clean break.
To earn my living honestly in some profession where I’m free
To wed and raise a family. Celibacy is not for me.
Monday,26 April 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Repent And Be Converted
Repent and be converted,
For there is very little info of the seven heavens that we can see;
Repent and be converted,
For the third heaven is totally hidden from us at this time;
Repent and be converted,
For only a few will be saved in the long run!
But in this never-ending universe,
We need to be very wis in all that we do.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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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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Predestined? for My Lady Irene
Her eyes are like unto the sea
their colour changing constantly
Their beauty has ensorcelled me.
Try as I might I can’t break free.
The lady is quite innocent
I must absolve her from intent
I met her gaze by accident.
But the effect is permanent.
I was not searching for romance
but captivated by her glance,
I was resolved to take a chance
to change my future circumstance.
Was I a fool to entertain
the faintest hope that I might gain,
the lady’s heart or live in pain
and still a bachelor remain
The burning question had to be.
What did the lady think of me?
and could she possibly agree
to dare to share her life with me.
Although we think we have free will.
Mother Nature has the skill
to create plans we must fulfil.
So we obey or foot the bill.
Regretting that we did not do
what Mother Nature meant us to.
It seem the lady felt this too.
An old, old tale forever new.
04/06/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Water Music for M lady Chitra
I hear the music of the waterfall.
I am held fast entranced against my will.
It’s ceaseless flowing fluid melody
more potent than the fabled sirens call.
I cannot think nor can I move at all.
Completely absorbed by the symphony
it is as if that time is standing still.
Nothing seems to matter, nothing at all.
I am enraptured by the waterfall
Quite unaware that I’ve duties to fulfil
I think it may be true quite possibly
I’m not averse to being held in thrall.
There is no where I’d rather be
than where I am just listening quietly.
24/06/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Minor Sins for M lady Lorraine
The shadow of an echo falls
upon deaf ears which listen not.
They fail to hear the distant calls
of memories they thought forgot.
The sinful acts they have repressed
and buried deep in memory.
Are in their disturbed sleep expressed.
Rise to remind them forcefully.
The night mares we perforce must ride
are merely our self punishment
We cannot from our conscience hide.
We must acknowledge and repent
those things we did unthinkingly
before we can sleep peacefully.
14-Nov-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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My Question for M lady Fay
There is a question I must pose
In the vain hope that someone knows
Who’s willing to enlighten me.
Before my birth where would I be
This question always puzzles me
and when I die where do I go.
I have asked priests who hesitate
to answer me, they vacillate.
Because in truth they do not know.
They quote their Holy Book to me
But I have looked and cannot see.
The answer that I seek to find.
Why is it that they pretend to know
from whence I came and where I go.
And yet they will not answer me.
My question is a simple one
I make it clear to everyone.
But no one seems to understand.
The truth is what I seek to know
From whence I came where do I go.
Will somebody please answer me.
20-Nov-08
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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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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Repentance
"If you repent," the Parson said,"
Your sins will be forgiven.
Aye, even on your dying bed
You're not too late for heaven."
That's just my cup of tea, I thought,
Though for my sins I sorrow;
Since salvation is easy bought
I will repent . . . to-morrow.
To-morrow and to-morrow went,
But though my youth was flying,
I was reluctant to repent,
having no fear of dying.
'Tis plain, I mused, the more I sin,
(To Satan's jubilation)
When I repent the more I'll win
Celestial approbation.
So still I sin, and though I fail
To get snow-whitely shriven,
My timing's good: I home to hail
The last bus up to heaven.
poem by Robert William Service
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Perfect Justice
The boy donned his explosive vest
He had been brainwashed by the best
He was convinced by suicide
he’d be a martyr. Cause for pride
to all is friends and family
Too ignorant to question why.
His teacher was apparently
quite content to let others die.
When he himself was not prepared.
His life too precious to be spared
Though advocating suicide.
These evil men are satisfied.
Persuading naïve boys to die.
Although they are aware they lie.
The boys mere weapons for their use
The ultimate of child abuse.
Fortunately this boy was saved
the mechanism misbehaved
The bomb refused to detonate
A martyr’s death was not his fate.
The boy had been prepared to die
But now began to question why.
Allah refused his sacrifice.
Denied the promised paradise
Now honest clerics must explain
and re-interpret once again
The lessons which had been mistaught.
By priests who knowingly distort.
The laws laid down the in the Koran
to be observed by every man
which wicked men choose to defy.
Though they will answer when the die.
To Allah the compassionate
The burning lakes of fire wait
Though they repent it is too late
Their wickedness has sealed their fate.
The foolish boys they led astray
sure to be judged a different way.
By Allah the all merciful
The ways of god are wonderful.
26/06/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Phantom Of The North!
Behold the Phantom of the North,
The wild, white wolf of old!
His legends nightly going forth
And in hushed tones are told...
Of how he glides across the snow,
Or leaps to touch the sky!
A ghostly figure none should know
And no need asking why...
Behold the Phantom 'twixt the trees,
One second here, then gone!
Of all the forest's fantasies,
There's much to ponder on...
For like a spectre seen at night,
That chills you to the bone,
Be thankful yet, despite the fright,
That he walks on his own!
Behold the Phantom face-to-face!
Stand fast if courage lets,
Or flee far from that awesome place,
As if without regrets...
The Phantom fears no coward soul,
He's seen them run before!
As long as each one knows his role,
He'll howl forevermore!
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Phantom Of The North'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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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
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Burj Khalifa
A tower reaching for the sky
The tallest in the world they say.
The tiny country of Dubai
is very proud they can display
A master piece in steel and glass
A building that must be world class
A tower meant to demonstrate
the power of this little State.
Luxury writ unashamed
Which some think can be blamed
for wrecking the economy.
Which could be true quite possibly.
Dubai is asking time to pay
the debts incurred along the way
It could be that they aimed to high
and now they’re forced to question why.
The Tower of Babel was destroyed.
They say because God was annoyed
at the arrogance of men.
Dubai has dared to try again.
Wednesday,06 January 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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