Uncertainty for Friend J.T. Ellison
There is a question troubling me.
How do I know that I am me?
You question my identity
I answer satisfactorily.
You are convinced that I am me.
Though I have passed your scrutiny
and proved I’m who I claim to be
I’m half convinced that I might be
somebody else who thinks he’s me.
This worries me considerably.
I can’t be sure that I am me
A crisis of identity.
You would worry if you were me
plagued by this uncertainty.
6-May-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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Why must I? for Cp Sharma
Why must I
The mist is lifting slowly. So
I can see the way ahead.
Although I’m not allowed to know
my future fate. I need not dread.
The Unknown hidden by the mist
evaporated by the sun.
I will go on I will persist
until my distant goal is won.
The quest embarked upon at birth
which will not end until I die.
My sojourn on the planet earth
but always I must question why.
I have no choice but journey on
No one can answer my question.
27/05/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Is Man A Winner Or A Loser?
Woman has a poof that the child is hers;
Man has no such proof to claim on the child.
She is cool with the child as identity.
He is desperate for his identity.
Identity crisis has disturbed him.
He invented marriage and chained woman.
He imposed chastity to mark his kids
And introduced patriarchal system.
Identity crisis has troubled him.
He assumed control over women.
He retained the progeny in his name
And made concubines to silence woman.
Identity crisis has worried him.
He bottled woman's skill and built up his.
He grew to be a Scholar. Sculptor and Poet
And assigned to woman the entertaining.
Identity crisis has bothered him.
He treated woman as her property.
He acquired family unfailingly
And labourd for its upkeep and status.
Identity crisis has bored him.
Water as she is, man could not cut her.
Tired of heat outside, man needed a shade
And sheltered himself in woman's coolness.
Woman treated man with due sympathy
With no fight with him for identity.
Her child is enough for her identity.
She helped him to anchor himself in her.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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Identity Of I
Identity is not what I promise others
Identity is what I do when I am alone
Identity is what I think of others
Knowing all the hatred they've shown
Identity is what every wound reminds me
Identity is what I learn and what I pass by
Identity is what I see in the mirror
After giving my best try
Identity is what I make out of my given chance
Identity is what I accept and what I deny
No one else has control over me
Life is about me, and what I identify
poem by Abhiraj Rajadhyaksha
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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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No Recidivists
No recidivists
When clever Dr Guillotine
perfected his humane machine
for executing criminals.
It was accepted straight away
as being a much better way
of executing criminals
The state made no apology
for using this technology
for executing criminals.
The product of a brilliant brain
He was convinced it caused less pain
when executing criminals.
The guillotine’s not used today
It was a most effective way
of executing criminals.
Though not regarded as P.C
I think it proved effectively
that executing criminals
Ensured they did not re-offend
Results on which we can depend
by executing criminals.
You may see this as cruelty
Some states do not as you can see.
They still execute criminals.
10-Feb-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Beneath the surface 09
I choose my friends instinctively.
Signals received unconsciously
decide compatability
I am convinced accurately.
I trust my hunches completely
I find they work efficiently
and so I listen carefully
To what my guts are telling me
I understand obviously
I could be wrong quite possibly
It makes no difference to me.
It suits me to believe you see.
I do not have to make a choice
I leave that to my inner voice.
27-Jan-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Keeping up appearances forJTEllison
Why do we feel the need to ask?
Just who we are so frequently
Why is that we wear a mask
to hide our true identity?
Why do we try so hard to be
somebody other than we are
Adopt a personality
in the same way we choose a car.
Who are we trying to impress?
Why do we feel the need to hide
behind a façade of success.
It does not alter what’s inside.
Although we try we’re doomed to fail
because we can’t sustain the lie
Our efforts are to no avail.
Yet still we feel compelled to try.
2-Mar-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Case Hardened for Joe Poewhit
A macho man must strut his stuff.
Because he lacks the sense to see
That any man who’s man enough
Can let his feelings show freely
Secure in his identity
He does not care what other say
about his masculinity.
He chooses to go his own way.
But macho men feel they must hide
behind a shield of bravado
But deep inside they’re terrified
that other people get to know.
Their attitude is self defence
their bravado is all pretence
Sunday,17 January 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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His Answer To My Question Was A Question
His answer to my question
Was a question
My answer to his reply
Was returned
With another question
The game of
Answering and asking
Questions
Did not end
Till I questioned
The very motive
Of our conversation
We came to the conclusion
How to pass time?
Was the biggest question
Asking questions
And creating confusion
Was the answer
So we passed our time
Asking and answering questions
The question now is
Whether we did right or wrong?
The answer is
Why ask a useless question?
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Poetry in Motion for Friend Thad
A connoisseur of derrieres.
I’ve studied ladies rears for years.
I love to watch the liquid flow
of haunches moving to and fro
When clad in well cut denim jeans,
they can enhance the dullest scenes
But better still I must confess
beneath a simple cotton dress.
I am convinced the ladies know
that many men enjoy the view
and do their very best to show
they don’t object but pretend to.
I find that Gluteus Maximi
Are very easy on the eye.
14-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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
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What 'Fit' Would I Want
Identity?
I've had one for so long.
All my life,
I have lived to perfect it.
I don't get upset with those with none.
Those who prefer to turn away and run...
If confronted!
Identity?
I know who I am without question.
Acceptance I don't seek.
Not from those
Who believe my identity
Might leave others afraid to speak.
Those familiar with others,
Who shuffle along with stances weak.
I have no problem,
Being me and that might offend.
'Too bad! '
'Get over it! '
Nothing else or more is there...
I care to share with them!
What 'fit' would I want,
If that which I enjoy...
Provides me comfort?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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The best laid plans for J.T Ellison
The best laid plans
He sits and thinks but rarely shares
the subject of his pondering
He is convinced nobody cares
to hear his views on anything.
He does not like to watch T.V.
unlike the other residents.
He’s happy sitting quietly
Reviewing long ago events.
When he was self sufficient.
Intelligent and capable
‘til a cerebral accident
which rendered him incapable
of living independently.
Forced his reception into care
although it’s very plain to see
He would much rather be elsewhere.
Though he’s disabled physically
His mental capability
is not impaired apparently.
He accepts philosophically.
Life rarely goes as you have planned.
We meet with things we don’t expect
for fate not man is in command
What fate decrees we must accept.
22/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Unseen dangers!
She prowls the floor then sits and stares.
But when I look there’s nothing there
But still watches carefully.
What does she see that I can’t see?
I wonder why she sits and stares.
Nothing will catch her unawares.
Perhaps she is protecting me
from dangers that I cannot see.
Cats tend to mind their own affairs.
They’re secretive and will not share.
The only thing that worries me.
I still don’t know what she can see.
Why should I worry needlessly?
While she watches protectively.
Thursday,22 September 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Matchless Partnership for M lady Chitra
I have a friend who can pretend.
She’s just a piece of jewellery
A ploy she uses to defend
herself from closer scrutiny.
A member of the dragon race
although she is a miniature
my lapel is her favourite place
where she is certain she’s secure
When I am sitting on my own
she loves to light my smoke for me.
But only when we are alone
and she is sure no one can see.
Communicating mentally
we get along quite happily.
18-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Lonely Spider
The lonely spider reaches out
For what, you might ask?
If not to spin his web then for what?
For his identity
The identity of him
His identity...
The lonely spider calls out
For what, you might ask?
If not for his mate then for what?
For his identity
The identity of him
His identity...
The lonely spider waits
For what, you might ask?
If not for his food then for what?
For his identity
The identity of him
His identity...
'A spider doesn't have feelings! '
How should you know?
'A spider isn't that smart! '
That could be true.
'A spider can never have a real identity! '
And neither could you, or any of us
But we try to find one even if we're not looking
And thats our life... after which we die
What have we done with our life up until then?
Either we've thrown it away, gave it up, wrecked it, lived it up to the fullest, took it for granted, or got far in it.
We still had one.
It's up to us what we shall do with it
Just like the lonely spider
Who will probably just end up on the bottom of your shoe anyways
poem by Andreanna Atkins
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Before the beginning
Why does the human race exist?
Unanswered questions will persist.
Philosophers and scientists
All try to penetrate the mists.
It seems as if each answer found,
leads to a question more profound.
It often seems the evidence
flies in the face of common sense.
Some premises I accept as true
may seem quite different to you.
The things we know or think we know.
Frequently prove to be not so.
It all depends how we perceive
the so called facts which we believe.
Is there a God it would seem so.
I can believe but do not know.
We cannot prove it either way
and so unanswered questions stay.
Unanswered now as they have done
since mans history was begun.
Although we ask we get no reply
Is God still there or did he die?
16/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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