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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Accident.experiment or something meant.for M lady Ernestine.
I sometimes wonder why I ponder
on questions I cannot answer.
Why do I sit and wrack my brain
when there is nothing I can gain.
My endless curiosity
constantly compelling me.
To try and solve the mystery,
which has plagued man through history.
Did God create the race of man
for reasons known to him alone?
Is there an underlying plan
Which lies beneath all that is known.
Or were we just an accident
which has no purpose or intent.
The question which I put to you.
Which do you believe is true?
It’s not a case of either or
there could be many, many more,
explanations I suppose,
the truth is nobody knows.
You do not even have to choose,
you are entitled to refuse.
Though personally I shall still muse
and try to clarify my views.
Tuesday,11 May 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Monentary aberration.
A brief encounter innocent
Of any forethought or intent
We touched almost by accident
and yet I must confess it meant.
A sudden pang of discontent
Which quickly came and quickly went.
A moment that devil sent
To tempt me was his sole intent.
It was a failed experiment.
My love for you is permanent.
It would be to my detriment
to give my assent or consent.
To any plot he could invent.
I hold all cheats beneath contempt.
Monday,29 March 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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I am a man!
I am a man full grown.
I have the right to choose
To make my way alone
What have I got to lose? .
If I refuse to do
as you expect me to.
I owe nothing to you
I will choose my own way.
Today and every day
I am man, my own man
Friday,05 March 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Their evensong; my pleasure for friend Thad
I sit outside the monastery
and pass an hour pleasantly
Listening to the brothers chant
I find their plain song elegant.
I wonder why, it puzzles me
Why do some men voluntarily
decide upon monastic life.
Are they afraid of worldly strife.
It seems to me that they retreat
from normal life; admit defeat.
I’m sure they see it differently
To me it is a mystery.
What can they possibly achieve.
This question really baffles me.
I must suppose that they believe.
It’s pleasing to their deity.
But I am not a Christian
I have my own philosophy.
More suited to a simple man.
Which is all I claim to be.
They have a choice they can decide
to worship God in their own way.
I am content to sit outside
I do not have the right to say.
What they should do or should not do.
My own motto is tolerance
that’s why I come to listen to
the plain song. which my ears entrance.
When night falls and all is still.
The final notes have died away.
I exercise my own free will
and rise to make my homeward way.
My God does not expect me to
stick to a rigid discipline.
The way the brothers have to do.
To pray or not the choice is mine.
14/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Gramercy
Why should I live in agony?
my life a total misery.
Because you find you can’t agree.
to help me die with dignity.
Who gave you the right to choose?
whether to allow or to refuse.
To end a life of little use
I think it is gross abuse.
of your assumed authority.
To decide what is best for me,
you will not listen to my plea.
I choose death voluntarily.
I am no use to anyone.
I’m well aware my race is run
and I am anxious to be gone.
The choice is mine and mine alone.
And therefore should be left to me
But in your wisdom you decide.
I must live on in agony
You won’t assist my suicide.
01/05/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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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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Ragbag Mind.
Sometimes I think I’m ignorant
at other times I know I’m not.
Though you may think I’m arrogant
I really do know quite a lot
A mass of trivialities
my mind has safely stored away
Odd peculiarities.
Exactly why I cannot say.
Just odds and sods of little use
in the hum drum of everyday.
I don’t know why mind should choose
what it will lose or what must stay.
I think that eccentricity
must be my speciality.
Monday,25 January 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Mutual antipathy.
Mutual antipathy
monotetra
I cannot say with certainty
that I am right though I might be.
You have the right to disagree.
I will consider carefully
the reasons that you offer me.
As to why you can’t agree.
I think that very possibly
there’s little possibility
That you will ever agree with me
You can’t admit that I might be
correct. Because you dislike me.
You are not thinking logically
I cannot claim with honesty
that I am quite prejudice free.
I don’t like you, you don’t like me.
At least on that we can agree.
Sunday,01 August 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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I can.
Inverted hexaduadad.
I can
choose to be a man.
Stand tall upon my own two feet
Or to retreat.
The choice is up to me.
Though not quite free
I can’t refuse
I am compelled to choose.
What shall I do.
I will not change my view
I will be the best man
I can.
Saturday,10 July 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Am I? for friend Thad.
I think therefore I am but I
can only be aware of me.
If I should ask could you reply
with well considered honesty.
I am as I appear to be
to myself with my inner eye
Or do you see me differently
and if so can you tell me why.
Or will you simply lie to me
and tell me what I want to hear.
Because you think that you can see
the truth might be too much to bear.
I think therefore I am but I
Cannot claim true validity
There’s no real way to verify.
The simple fact that I am me.
Monday,25 January 2010
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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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I lnow I think so I must be for Friend Michael
I think therefore I am; To me
this does not seem at all correct.
I am therefore I think; Would be
much more accurate I suspect.
I do not let it worry me.
Though J.P.Sartre was concerned
I am content to merely be.
That is one lesson I have learned.
Why should I worry needlessly
about the things I do not know.
I have my own philosophy
I just accept it must be so
I can think, therefore I exist.
That is the truth I must insist.
Monday,17 May 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Waltz time for MY Lady Irene.
I
Hold you
In my arms.
We
begin
a slow waltz
One
two three
one two three.
I
ask you
to be mine.
You
Agree
Instantly.
We
both knew
without doubt.
You
love me
I love you.
We
will dance
together.
In
Perfect
Harmony.
As
we were
meant to do.
For
ever
and a day.
Monday,25 January 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Writers Block-Poppycock
I think that there will never be
A lack of wonders we can see.
For those of us prepared to look
in mother natures own scrap book.
We have the time to stand and stare
at beauty we find everywhere.
A flower where it should not be
inspires us to write poetry.
We poets are a special breed
and poetry fulfils our need.
To share the beauty we can see.
We choose our language carefully.
Creating images to share
with anybody anywhere.
Monday,26 July 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Fixed routine.
I always choose to take this way
This quiet path leads to my door,
Today as every other day.
I have no fear that I may stray.
I see no reason to explore.
I always choose to take this way.
Here sun and shadow interplay
Creating shapes not seen before.
Today as every other day.
The song thrush sings his roundelay.
I feel my jaded spirits soar
I always choose to take this way.
Though I could choose another way
I am aware of two or more.
Today as every other day.
It adds some pleasure to my day
a feeling I have known before.
I always choose to take this way
Today as every other day.
Wednesday,10 November 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Eyes: those tragic eyes,
It was her eyes, those tragic eyes
The saddest eyes I ever saw.
That made me start to realise.
The price that children pay for war.
Those eyes had seen brutalities
no innocent should ever see
She haunted still by memories
from which I fear she can’t break free.
I look into her eyes and see
that she expects nothing from me.
She has no hope that there might be
an ending to her misery.
Although I know I’m not to blame
I still feel guilty all the same.
Though we protest our innocence
in our attempts to rationalise.
What can we say in self defence.
That is not based on blatant lies.
It makes me frankly furious
that innocents should suffer so
The guilt belongs to all of us.
We can’t pretend we did not know
That we should learn from history
instead of choosing to ignore
Because we do not want to see.
There are no winners in a war.
I can’t forget those empty eyes
They’ll haunt me ‘til the day I die.
Monday,08 November 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Unbroken cycle. for M lady Ernestine
Englyn Prost Dalgron.
Seasons come and seasons go.
Summer sun or winter snow.
That is all we need to know.
Winter is replaced by spring.
Summer ripens everything.
Autumn will the harvest bring.
When the harvests gathered in
Safely stored in box and bin
Then the winter will begin.
Nature brooks no argument.
She carries out her intent.
With or without our consent.
Spring, Summer and Autumn too.
Each has its own job to do.
Perfectly planned in my view.
Monday,11 January 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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In two minds
John William Henry Barthrop wrote.
In iambic pentameter
an amusing suicide note
Stuck it on the water heater.
Which he turned on but left unlit.
Although his intent was to die.
He put no thought in planning it.
It was in fact a hopeless try.
The fool forgot to feed the meter
and very soon the gas ran out.
Fate decides, you cannot cheat her.
So he survives only to doubt
if in fact he really meant it.
He’s still alive though discontented.
05/11/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Am I a Heretic?
Abide with me fast falls the eventide.
My boredom deepens momentarily.
There must be more to life than the T.V
I sometimes watch but I choose carefully
The darkness deepens lord abide with me.
Boredom remains the ancient enemy
I have to choose so therefore I decide
Only to watch what I want to see.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee.
Then and only then do I watch T.V.
Most programmes offered don’t appeal to me
I can go without watching very easily.
Help of the helpless oh abide with me.
Books are my salvation as they ought to be
I have a collection of fine poetry
I can choose what suits my mood easily.
Wednesday,31 March 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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You can't believe your eyes!
The countless thousand points of light.
Which decorate the firmament
Are only visible by night
By long established precedent..
We have the opportunity
to study them though distantly.
Each one of them another sun
Although we know that some have gone.
Some of the stars we think we see
have supernovaed long ago.
We know this theoretically
Which one they are we do not know.
Existing as pale memories
of the suns they used to be.
Monday,28 March 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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