Self made Man
Alas alack and woe is me
My life is filled with misery
I loved a lass who loved not me
She treated me disdainfully.
She saw herself as upper class
And much superior to me.
A barrier I could not pass.
A subtle form of cruelty.
But time moves on and so did I
I went to university
Where somewhat different rules apply
You’re judged on your ability.
I earned a double first degree.
I studied politics and law
So I was qualified to be
What I decided either or.
My tutor recommended me
to several of his well placed friends.
Who he felt quite probably
Would use me to suit their own ends
I became a secretary
To a rising star in politics
Who chose to place his trust in me.
To cover up his dirty tricks.
I managed this successfully.
He taught me more than what he thought.
Although I served him loyally
I knew much more than what I ought.
Eventually he sponsored me
to be his party’s candidate.
I was elected as M.P
Then all I had to do was wait.
For the right opportunity.
To demonstrate what I could do.
Show my potentiality
To the elite, the favoured few.
The men who held the power to
Promote me or to hold me back.
I paid respect where it was due
and very soon I was on track.
To realise my ambition.
To be a junior minister.
Perhaps in education
or something rather similar.
I knew enough to toe the line
Without appearing threatening
And soon a junior post was mine.
Which in itself was heartening.
I was quite sure I could secure
all the support that I would need.
To land myself a sinecure
I had no doubt I would succeed
I had recorded secretly
The dirty tricks that they had played.
And told them confidentially
About records I had made.
I soon acquired cabinet rank.
My erstwhile mentor taught me well
Although his methods sometimes stank
I learnt as I endured the smell
I am the minister for trade
I travel everywhere first class
My only job is to persuade
The members of the working class
I have their interests at heart
It’s not an easy thing to do.
My lies are truly works of art
They sound as if they could be true.
I never promise anything.
But they are convinced that I do
I am well used to public speaking
They believe ‘cos they want to.
That is the art of politics.
If you can fake sincerity.
And conceal your dirty tricks.
Then you are where you ought to be.
The public now do not believe
That M.P.s have integrity
Who earn respect they don’t receive.
I do not let that worry me.
I shall receive my knighthood soon
And then retire from public life.
Nobody can prick my balloon
Although rumours may be rife.
There is no concrete evidence
That anybody can provide
I can say that with confidence
No one can prove that I ever lied.
I only claimed what I was due.
I made quite sure to follow rules.
The claims I made were always true
Unlike the other greedy fools.
I will retire with dignity
With my integrity intact
At least it will appear to be
although it may not be in fact.
Appearances are all that count.
In the modern world today.
You never hear the true account
Which people know but dare not say.
Sunday,18 September 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Related quotes
Honourable Members? ?
The politicians all agree they have more rights than you and me
They are convinced that they should be. Divorced from life’s reality
They should be allowed to make claims. to further their own ends and aims
Gain money from the public purse. Which should willingly disburse
however much they choose to claim. Because they referee the game.
The present rules are much to lax they even cheat on paying tax.
They say they play within the rules. They seem to think that we are fools
Though in the past we may have been. It is past time to change the scene.
They must repay ill gotten gains although each one of them complains
They only claimed what they were due. I don’t believe it nor do you
Perhaps some few claimed by mistake. Though most of them were on the take.
They may have started honestly but were corrupted easily.
There’s no excuse for their abuse. Their complaints are of little use.
Their penchant for dishonesty casts doubt on the integrity.
On all M.Ps who just might be untainted by dishonesty.
I am quite sure there are a few who won’t object to the review.
Which seeks to introduce new rules and put in place the correct to tools.
Which will derail the gravy train and let the honest men retain
the respect which they deserve. The ones who truly try to serve.
The thieves are a minority and should be dealt with severely.
If they prove guilty by intent then they deserve imprisonment
Like any other citizen and not allowed to stand again.
Making repayments will not do there must be prosecutions too.
They must be made to pay the price for their greed and avarice.
It was their choice to cheat and lie and I can see no reason why
the rule of law should not apply to all men even handedly.
03/11/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Im Nothing
I-m-n-o-t-h-i-n
I-m-n-o-t-h-i-n
Im nothing
Im nothin
Are you a republican or a democrat
A liberal fascist full of crap
Im nothin
Im nothin
Somebody somewhere might be something
But everybody everywhere
Knows that Im nothin
Politics and dirty tricks
I got no time for stones and sticks
Politics and dirty tricks
I got no time Im chasing chicks
Im nothin
Im nothin
Somebody somewhere might be something
But everybody everywhere
Knows that Im nothing
Im nothing but Im not proud
cause being nothing its not allowed
Are you a gay or are you straight
Do you believe in love
Or do you believe in hate
Im nothin
Im nothin
Somebody somewhere said he was something
But to everybody everywhere
Im saying Im nothing
Im nothing. Im like a cloud
Im free to be alone in a crowd
Whats your reality. its not real to me
Whats your anomaly. it is my destiny
I-m-n-o-t-h-i-n
I-m-n-o-t-h-i-n
Im nothin
Nothin
Nothin
Im nothing now and Ill be nothing when
This nothing world has its nothing end
Gordon gano: vocal, guitar
Recorded and mixed by david vartanian at dvs perversion room, milwuakee, wi
gorno music reprinted with permission
song performed by by Violent Femmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Looking back, nostalgically
The dreaming spires of Oxford lie
beneath an ever changing sky
A place where students aspire to
the earning of a sporting blue.
Or concentrate their energy
towards a double first degree
Some will succeed and make their mark.
To others just a youthful lark
An honoured university
which has been here for centuries
The town and gown oft disagree
they co exist uneasily
The students come from far and wide
to study by this riverside.
They stay here temporarily.
Then they must move on hopefully.
They leave the dreaming spires behind
as they strike out and try to find.
Some way to make their dreams come true
Some will succeed the elite few
.
On leaving university
you have to face reality.
The dreaming spires reluctantly
must be consigned to memory.
There is so much they need to learn.
As everybody must in turn,
success does not come easily.
Degrees provide no guarantee.
Now is the time when you must show
How much or little that you know.
Demonstrate your ability
and your adaptability..
Convince employers that you can
Do just as well as any man.
Although you lack experience
you have expressed a preference
by choosing them to apply to.
You like the kind of work they do.
If you survive the interview
and they decide to employ you.
Your years at university
As you will very quickly see
have not prepared you to compete.
Your dancing to a different beat.
You have signed on to the Rat race.
The city is a different place
From Oxford and its dreaming spires
where scholars pursue their desires.
All that counts here is success
you have work hard to progress.
Life here is lived by different rules
the city has no time for fools.
You must produce results it seems
If you want to fulfil your dreams.
Although in truth you’d rather be
back at your university.
The dreaming spires of Oxford lie
beneath an ever changing sky.
They do not change, no reason to.
Unlike the students who must do.
16-Mar-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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No Chance!
.
Though gifted with great eloquence.
The candidate lacks common sense
He phrased his speech in such a way,
that few in any chose to stay.
His words though chosen carefully
would never get him elected.
They didn’t understand a word he said.
He might as well have stayed in bed.
We did not know what he stood for
and saw him as a crashing bore.
A patronising upper class snob
who’d never had a proper job.
Which spoilt his opportunity
to be elected an MP
Wednesday,08 September 2010
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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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Delayed Justice Story poem
I fear no foe that I can see
but rather those who strike by night
They cloak their acts in secrecy
because they cannot stand the light.
I made a powerful enemy
when I was young and in my prime.
Who swore to take revenge on me.
I know somewhere he bides his time.
My friends think I am paranoid
obsessed with high security.
Though it is better to avoid
Any and all possibility.
Of course I cannot validate
my fear of a conspiracy.
It doesn’t matter it’s too late.
I fear my foe has poisoned me.
His plans were made with subtlety.
He has corrupted some close friend
Some one I trusted utterly.
I should have known you can’t defend.
Against all possibilities.
I tried my best but I have failed.
Too many opportunities.
It seems my enemy has prevailed.
News of my death will prompt release
of documentary evidence.
To the world press and the police.
Negate his claims of innocence.
To show the world just what he was.
In the dark days of Nazi rule
Unpublished until now
because I hesitated like a fool.
I had sufficient evidence
to have his history reviewed
and to expose his false pretence.
But was not confident I could.
prove his guilt beyond all doubt.
Until I found the final clue.
Somehow he managed to find out
about what I planned to do.
He was convinced nobody knew
About the research I had done.
Which in effect was quite true.
I much preferred to work alone.
He wanted to be rid of me.
and though his plan met with success.
I will defeat my enemy
The fact I’m dead is matterless.
He sought revenge I sought justice
His is a pyrrhic victory.
I have ensured he’ll pay the price.
for his past sins and cruelty.
The proof of his identity
at least of who he used to be
Will stand up to close scrutiny
He’s not the man he claims to be.
A Jew who managed to survive.
he stole a new identity.
And some how managed to contrive
to convince every one but me.
Though he is held in high respect.
because of his ability
There is no way he can protect
his reputation for honesty.
Although I chose to work alone
The papers that I leave behind
Will show the truth to everyone
He was in fact a mastermind
of the final solution.
Which brought about the Holocaust.
There can be no absolution.
He freely chose he was not forced.
Unlike the wretches that he killed
because he had the power to.
His twisted dreams could be fulfilled.
do anything he wanted to.
I was not fooled I could see through
the lack of continuity
and spent my life determined to
destroy his false identity.
He thought if he was rid of me.
He would be safe no one doubt
the truth of his false history
But very soon he will find out.
He has not heard the last of me.
There is no way he can deny
The truth of his identity
Although the world may wonder why.
He was allowed to get away
with his charade so easily
But in the chaos of those days
he was not checked sufficiently.
The time has come when he must face.
A different reality
of opprobrium and disgrace.
It had to come eventually
Although he tried to live a lie.
Fate had other plans in mind
The clues I needed she’d supply
Though they were difficult to find.
I was obsessed I had no choice.
It seemed that fate had chosen me
to give unnumbered dead a voice.
Which I have done quite obviously.
I won’t be here to celebrate.
He was a step ahead of me.
but he had left it far too late.
I claim the final victory.
Friday,13 November 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Bleak outlook; for some.
I did not think things could get worse.
But I was wrong quite obviously
The guardians of the public purse.
Decided unilaterally.
We must reduce expenditure
I have no choice but to agree.
Though I am absolutely sure
all will not suffer equally.
The savage cuts which they propose
may well reduce the deficit.
I see no reason to suppose
that everyone will benefit.
The rich of course won’t feel the chill.
The little man will have to pay.
He always did and always will.
Because that is the Tory way.
It is their mission to conserve
the privilege which they enjoy
By any means which will serve
and any means they can employ.
Perhaps I have a biased view.
.Maybe I am too cynical.
Though I believe my words are true.
I could be wrong it’s possible.
That they are acting for the best.
A dangerous experiment.
Which when they put it to the test.
Might just succeed by accident.
Then they will claim all credit due.
But if it fails they will deny
as politicians always do
They had no choice; they had to try.
Though you may take a different view.
Not everybody will agree
What you conclude is up to you.
I think we’ll have to wait and see.
I do not think this government
Will last.The strains are showing now.
The general public discontent.
How long before their final bow.
The rich cannot impose their will
As they have always done before.
Why should the poorest foot the bill
A question that they can’t ignore.
Although I’m sure that they will try.
By quoting massaged statistics.
Which I for one choose not to buy.
I can see through their dirty tricks.
Thursday,21 October 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Politics What I Understand
Politics is: process of transfer
to the politicians, of public power;
Science of public reigning
and government running;
Formulation of regulation and policy
to apply on, and reign the public
leaving escape door for them
and those who overwhelm;
Keeping nearest groups satisfied
and other groups pacified;
Seeing public in difficulty
being apathy but showing sympathy;
Politically remove all those
In way of their whim who arose:
To show malign image of opposition party
and join their dinner party;
This is what I could understand
Politics is like tusks of elephant.
S.D.Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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A happy accident
A happy accident
Alone. Alone always alone
The warmth of love I’d never known.
Conceived upon a one night stand
and then abandoned out of hand.
Nobody ever wanted me.
It seemed I was condemned to be
unloved unwanted and alone
My heart grew cold and turned to stone.
I could not love, no one showed me
affection: I could not see
that to receive I had to give.
And so I lived in misery.
I grew up in an orphanage
until I had attained the age.
When they considered I should be.
Grown up enough to be set free.
Not their responsibility
and that is how I came to be.
A dweller in bed sitter land.
Nobody seemed to understand.
Just how lonely life can be
I knew that no one cared for me.
I thought that no one ever would
nor could I see why they should.
Until one day I found a friend
my loneliness was at an end.
She was an orphan just like me
and had endured the misery.
Of feeling that she was alone
unwanted too by anyone.
I needed her she needed me
We learned together we could be.
Good friends who earned each others trust
and very slowly to adjust.
Adopt a different point of view
and realise it was not true.
That we were not unlovable
and that we were quite capable
of giving and receiving love
A treasure which we rate above.
All of the trapping of success
To suffer no more loneliness
To love and be loved in return
A lesson that we had to learn.
Which banished all our misery.
Now we are married happily.
And have two children of our own
Deep love has from a friendship grown.
11-Oct-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Meanwhile, politics is about getting a candidate in front of the public as a star, politics as rock'n'roll, politics as a movie.
quote by Joe Eszterhas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Am I mistaken A rant
When shopping at the superstore
I find each time I must pay more
For food than what I used to do
And other prices increase too.
It makes rather curious
and not a little furious
Whichever store to which I’ve gone
The prices rise in unison.
I suspect conspiracy
They all agree it seems to me
To a co-ordinated plan
Simply because they think they can
Increase the profits which they make.
It’s not a case of give and take.
I can produce no evidence
I rely on my common sense
Perhaps I’m growing paranoid.
Why does the government avoid
Examining the evidence
Because they know it would incense.
The fat cats who they daren’t offend
So they keep quiet and pretend
The do not have the power to
Do as they’re supposed to do.
Protect the public not their friends
But obviously it all depends
To whom they owe their loyalty.
Not to public obviously
Until there’s an election due
That is the time they promise to
Investigate the reasons why
Food prices have become so high
You can believe if you so choose
But as for me I will refuse
To waste my time by listening to
What they are promising to do.
They promise much deliver less
That’s why this country’s in a mess.
We cannot trust the government.
That much at least is evident
The fat cats just ignore the rules.
They see the government as fools
Who have strength but not the will
One single promise to fulfil.
Of course the government deny
This is the truth and they reply.
As usual with platitudes
There is no change of attitude.
The rich grow richer every day.
We have no choice we have to pay.
The prices they demand for food
Maybe I have misunderstood.
And politicians never lie.
And that truth is that they try
To protect us from the greedy few.
Who can tell them what to do.
Governments of both left and right
Have not the strength of will to fight
The power of the money men
Who ever lives at number ten.
Friday,23 September 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A little Extra for M'lady Ernestine
I am the hostess with most.
I even boast a family ghost.
Who haunts the family estate.
Of course you must appreciate
she is quite free to come and go.
You never know if she’ll appear.
She’s been around for centuries
and she is rather hard to please.
She will not mix with commoners.
It is the gentry she prefers.
Just who she was nobody knows.
A titled lady we suppose.
A snob or course she is my dear
Her actions make that very clear.
Her history a mystery.
You have to be well bred to see
The ghost I like to brag about.
That she is real, please do not doubt.
If you should see her you can boast
that you have seen the family ghost.
Which seems to prove you are well bred
although the lady’s long since dead.
She recognises quality
the upper class like you and me
If you don’t see her though you try.
The answer is to simply lie
Just like the vast majority
of people who have claimed to see.
A non existent family ghost
A fable dreamt up by your host.
Which seems to prove as she contends
that people pose to please their friends..
They lie about the lie she told.
She lied to show that she was bold
enough to make her story seem quite true.
And you believed the more fool you.
24/06/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I prescribe a purgative a rant
The body politic is ill
in urgent need of medicine
It seems that M.Ps lack the will
to exercise self discipline.
They claim to act within the rules.
When they make dishonest claims.
Which proves they are short sighted fools.
Some say the system is to blame
But I for one do not agree
I think each person has to use
The same standards of honesty.
The systems open to abuse,
which does not mean they have to cheat
Although it’s obvious some do
The time has come for a complete
review of rules; long overdue.
Who made the rules? The same M/Ps
who benefit from laxity
Who seem to do just as they please
and have no fear of penalties
The body politic is sick
and it grows sicker every day
This is no time for rhetoric
we have to act without delay.
Expose the loathsome parasites
who now wax fat in secrecy
and curb their greedy appetites.
It is the only remedy
The public is entitled to
demand an end to secrecy.
Insist all claims both old and new
be subject to close scrutiny.
10/05/2009 http; // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Theology is not for me.
What I believe may not be true
Until I know it has to do.
My personal philosophy
Is based not on theology.
But on ideas I have aquired
thoughts my studies have inspired.
Ideas which aren’t unique to me
Which I have stolen probably.
Adopted would be more correct
Which I continue to collect.
From anywhere and everywhere.
To consider and compare
Eventually I hope to see
All men treated equally
I try to keep an open mind
about the strange things that I find.
That some established churches teach
that human souls must do to reach.
Perfection: Which I can’t accept.
Although I try to show respect.
To the beliefs that others hold.
I don’t believe all I was told.
By people in authority
Who had the task of teaching me.
What they believed quite honestly.
But had no proof to offer me.
I saw no point in argument.
But I withheld my agreement.
Although I listened patiently
It seemed quite obvious to me.
That what they taught made little sense
And silence was my best defence.
Saturday,27 August 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Proud Pagan
Sky clad we dance the circle round.
Sing hymns of praise to Mother Moon.
The sacred grove was filled with sound
as we gave thanks for good fortune.
We harm no one, this is our law
but rather helped all whom we could.
We are well versed in herbal lore.
because Goddess ruled that we should,
The Christians came and tried by force
to make us change our allegiance
With dire penalties of course
if we refused obedience.
We quickly learnt how to deceive
the foreign priests, seem to obey.
But secretly we still believe
and worship in the age old way.
The Christians may rule the land
but can’t command our loyalty.
We know they do not understand.
They will not change us easily.
The old religion did not die
although the Christians thought it would.
The Goddess’ symbol in the sky
made certain that it never could..
So we still worshipped secretly
Still sky clad danced beneath the moon.
Pretending Christianity
but dancing to an older tune.
Although this happened long ago
The goddess rules us still today.
Deep in their hearts the faithful know.
The old way is a better way.
Today we worship openly
as we have every right to do.
Protected constitutionally
we need not hide from public view.
We face no persecution
except from fundamentalists.
Bigots of all religions,
who show that hatred still persists.
We do our best to do no harm
to anyone in any way.
Though some still view us with alarm
This is still true I’m sad to say.
I am a pagan proud to be.
A family tradition
I try to follow faithfully
the laws of my religion.
14-Mar-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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People And Their Situations Do Change
If it is true you knew,
How I felt in those times...
Where were you,
To help me empty...
Those many buckets of tears,
I cried.
If it is true,
My struggles with agony...
Had been something you knew.
If it is true you knew,
Who planted obstacles on my path...
Why were you not there for me at all?
And when I reach out to you,
You dismissed me and laughed.
If it 'is' true you knew,
What I was going through...
You said nothing about it,
Until several years have passed.
And,
If it is true you knew...
Anything about me at all,
Why have you waited until today...
To appear to say,
You are experiencing your own downfall.
To what degree of an empathy,
Do expect from me...
To receive?
'People and their situations change.'
I couldn't say that any better.
I agree.
Trust me.
And that person you say you knew back then,
Has matured to improve...
On my expectations of 'friends'.
And can see people and things as they are.
With a re-arrangement done to philosophies,
Without a passing of judgement on them.
'People and their situations change.'
I couldn't say that any better.
I agree.
Trust me.
And I've been blessed with a peace,
I am going to protect and keep.
And all I can do is wish you the best.
With a peacefulness I am feeling.
Hoping one day,
The same for you will come your way.
People and their situations do change.
Of that,
I totally agree.
But an empathy from me you wish to receive...
Was not from you,
Ever given to me from you to give...
To believe you can receive.
I agree...
People and their situations do change,
A lot!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Misplaced confidence for M lady C.T.Heart
Although dreams can come true; they seldom do.
We are convinced this rule does not apply
to us. We will be treated differently.
Such is our egocentric point of view
So we believe the dreams which we pursue
could well come true. We see no reason why
we should not succeed if we really try.
We fervently believe we deserve to.
The old adage” Hope springs eternally
Does not accord with our experience
but we can disregard this easily”
although it goes against all common sense.
Dreams are not known for logicality.
So in our dreams we still place confidence.
10-Nov-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not even a knight bannarette.
Not even a knight bannerette.
Today some wannabees long to be
part of the aristocracy.
So they research their family tree
in search of noble ancestry.
They’re quite prepared to spend their brass
to prove that they are upper class.
I’m sad to say that most; alas
Find ancestors they’d rather pass
Although they hope they rarely find.
The noble blood they have in mind.
But plenty of the common kind.
The family legend’s undermined.
Eventually they realise.
The family legend’s based on lies.
Monday,16 August 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dirty Irving
He once could care less who felt what.
And he strutted with such arrogance.
He had struggled to get up off his butt!
And he became cold as he grew older.
Exposing a boldness.
With a chip on his shoulder.
He sought the weaknesses of others,
To remind him of those he had!
He showed no empathy to them at all.
He thought the worse of them.
And this made him glad.
Dirty Irving was a hustler.
He knew the street quite well.
Dirty Irving was quick,
To call anyone a bitch!
Hiding the fact...
He himself was bewitched.
Bothered and quite insecure.
Feeling he could endure,
A self imposed hell.
Dirty Irving met his match.
Someone like himself...
That was detached.
But that attracted him!
Like a sin delighting a whim.
And dirty Irving became deserving...
When his desires were from him kept back!
He exposed his heart and the depth he had.
He pleaded to be given...
Temptations that drove him to the edge,
Believing he could not be driven this 'mad'.
And one day dirty Irving decided to abandon his ways.
Dirty Irving found himself serving subservience.
Victimized by sex and drugs!
By the one who kept him 'whipped'.
And treated him as a possession.
As a slave.
And dirty Irving stayed that way.
Like a puppy who now obeys!
Today wherever dirty Irving is seen...
His 'master' is nearby.
Knowing who commands,
Dirty Irving's dreams!
And it seems this is the life...
Dirty Irving appreciates and likes!
'Subservience? '
Who knows?
Maybe he's a bottom kind of guy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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