Unintentional Conclusion
My time has come perhaps to die.
I will not give in easily.
Though I can guess the reason why
Someone’s been hired to silence me
I am no longer in the game
I have retired quietly
I thought nobody knew my name.
I was mistaken obviously.
I’m not a fool I know the score.
I must kill him or he’ll kill me
It does not matter any more
someone has breached my secrecy.
I know he’s out there watching me.
Observing my daily routine,
he seeks an opportunity
make his killing quick and clean.
A single shot that’s all it takes.
A job he has been paid to do
I can’t afford to make mistakes.
Though he’s already made a few.
He does not know I am aware.
He pits his skill against my skill
and if he did I would not care
He has a contract to fulfil.
He has been paid and must succeed
to keep his reputation.
There’s no excuse which he can plead
for failure of completion.
Unless he dies by accident.
It is quite likely that he may.
In fact I am quite confident.
A stranger who has gone astray
and lost his footing carelessly
To fall five hundred feet or more
into an unforgiving sea.
To be cast up along the shore.
Nothing at all to do with me
Another loser in life’s game.
I will change my identity
and move my home base just the same.
I’m rather sad I liked it here
I’d settled in quite happily.
I think it best to disappear
Now that I know they’re on to me.
I can’t escape from my dark past
they’ll track me down eventually.
Though as the peaceful years rolled passed.
I hoped they had forgotten me.
I should have known they don’t forgive
Although I acted honourably
they can’t afford to let me live.
My past employers my country.
I know too much they don’t want known.
They’re not prepared to take a chance
That all their secrets might be blown.
That’s why I’m dying here in France
No one will guess the reason why
and aging Englishman was shot
by accident apparently.
My masters know that it was not
I kept the faith true to my word.
Their secrets were quite safe with me
To think I’d speak was quite absurd.
They should have had more faith in me
This is my only legacy
there’s nothing else that I can leave
The records I kept accurately
were not intended to deceive.
You have a choice you can believe
all that my masters will deny
I don’t believe they can survive
such negative publicity.
Its truly not revenge I seek
I want to set the records straight
My confessions are not unique
all countries employ men like me.
To carry out nefariously
Our orders which originate
but are transmitted secretly.
From high officials of the state.
We are the willing tools they use
to influence affairs of state.
But they distrust us then they choose
To silence us before too late
They think they’ve won but they have lost
Memoirs published posthumously
Will prove to them there is a cost
They could have simply trusted me
Now I am dead I can confess
the things I did for my country
and open up the whole damn mess
to closer public scrutiny.
They will plead state security
and claim their actions justified.
That’s why they murder men like me.
Because we can prove that they lied.
Our leaders thrive on secrecy.
Which they maintain at any cost.
They have no hint of decency
all sense of honour has been lost.
They practice rank dishonesty
in order to achieve their ends.
They lie both to the enemy
and to their allies and their friends.
When I decided I would not
obey their orders any more.
The verdict was I should be shot
There was no way they could restore.
The naïve trust I used to show.
My faith in their morality
because by then I’d come to know
Their corrupt veniality.
I am beyond their punishment
I’ll answer to a higher court
who will examine my intent
A court where justice can’t be bought.
Though I will plead in my defence.
That I was young and truly thought
that those I held in reverence
were Just men of the finest sort
When I discovered they were not.
My conscience would not let me stay.
Which left me in awkward spot
they would not let me break away.
Though I escaped they followed me.
I knew they would that’s why I ran.
evading them successfully.
But I became a hunted man.
I knew in time they would find me
That’s why I wrote my last report
My memoirs are my life story
non fiction of a different sort.
Although they’ll try they won’t suppress
the facts and figures I reveal.
The hidden truths which I express
are part and parcel of the deal.
To gain the most publicity
upon the international scene
Published simultaneously.
The Memoirs of a Dead Has Been.
Will hit the headlines every where.
The printers sworn to secrecy
The books are stockpiled here and there..
My masters should have trusted me.
A quiet life was all I asked
I did not seek publicity
But now they’ll find their selves unmasked.
Because they tried to silence me.
29-Dec-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Related quotes
Frustrated Ambition.
Frustrated ambition.
I can remember vividly
The first person that I chose to kill.
Although selected randomly.
It somehow made me feel fulfilled.
No longer a non entity.
Overlooked by everyone.
It proved my capability
To make my name and be someone.
I thought about it constantly.
I knew that I must kill again
I felt a growing certainty
my only thought was to regain.
The rush of the adrenaline
The sense of power which it brought.
As if the whole wide world was mine.
That was the feeling which I sought.
Though when my second victim died
My pleasure was not so intense
and I was left unsatisfied
Which did not seem to make much sense.
When I killed victim number three
There was no rushed adrenaline.
Which only served to convince me
That killing had become routine.
I had not yet achieved my aim.
Although killing had lost its thrill.
The only way I would gain fame
Was by continuing to kill.
I will defy the threatened rain
To add another to my score
Tonight I mean to kill again
and claim my victim number four.
Though others have killed many more
To earn their place in history.
I aim to beat the highest score.
I’m sure I will eventually.
Because I’ve only just begun
I study the case histories.
Familiar with everyone
I find that this inspires me.
To choose my victims carefully
and not at random as before
and change my M.O frequently
Whilst I am racking up my score.
Six years have passed my final score
I don’t believe can be surpassed.
by anyone who’s gone before.
Perhaps the time has come at last
For me to claim the fame that’s due.
Because I have successfully
Achieved what I set out to do.
By confessing publically.
The best laid plans can go awry.
The powers that be were satisfied
My story was a fantasy.
And so they had me certified.
No access to publicity
I never got the chance to boast.
Perhaps a fitting penalty
Organised by a vengeful ghost.
They keep me safely locked away
With no access to the outside.
Though I am certain that one day
All my claims will be verified.
Some one will find my record book
Containing records of my kills.
But when I tell them where to look
They do not listen: no one will.
Tuesday,13 December 2011
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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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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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My Country Lied
I lack the urge but have the skill.
My country taught me how to kill.
I had no choice could not refuse
nobody asked me for my views.
They said my country needed
to subjugate the enemy.
I was still young, green and naïve.
That I was sure I should believe
that what they told me must be true.
That it was something I should do.
But I discovered in due course
we were fighting to enforce
on those with just cause for dissent.
A very unjust settlement,
the promises my country made
and did not keep. We now forbade
their self determination.
The right of every nation,
it was battle we must lose.
The people have the right to choose.
To be an independent state
no longer seen as second rate.
Which they achieved eventually
they were not just a colony.
On looking back it seems to me
my country lied apparently.
An abuse of authority
I will not forget easily.
I lack the urge but have the skill.
My country taught me how to kill.
Though I can say with confidence
I’d only kill in self defence.
23-Jun-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Whistle Blower
My name is immaterial.
I must remain anonymous.
I'm publishing material.
That's guaranteed to cause a fuss.
Revealing things I'm privy to.
The powers that be try to conceal.
The would much rather no one knew
The way they choose to wheel and deal.
Corrupt officials on the make.
Accepting bribes to influence
Some decisions which they make.
So they grow rich at our expense.
I can supply the evidence.
To prove that what I say is true.
This is no time for reticence.
I do as my conscience bids me to.
I do not trust the powers that be.
Should they discover my intent.
I'm sure that they will silence me.
And make it seem by accident..
I've duplicated documents
all neatly filed and cross referred.
In packages which will be sent.
To the main news editors.
They dare not risk discovery.
To face exposure and disgrace
So they will try to silence me.
I'll disappear without a trace
If I die unexpectedly
A trusted friend will send them out
I will deny them victory.
The press will print without a doubt.
I have been silent far too long.
My conscience will not let me rest.
I can no longer go along.
I have to do as I think best.
Though they succeed in killing me.
The evidence will prove their guilt.
I will destroy posthumously.
The thieving systems they have built.
They cannot win I cannot lose.
My life's of little consequence.
This is the strategy I choose.
To demonstrate my penitence.
I have no choice but make a stand.
Against corruption which I see.
I did not fully understand.
That I was guilty partially.
I should have spoken out before.
But I chose to procrastinate.
Afraid of my superior
And how he might retaliate.
I have informed the auditor.
Provided him with evidence.
Which I am sure he won't ignore.
Although it proves my negligence.
I'm sure that he'll investigate
My allegations thoroughly.
There's nothing I can do but wait.
The truth will out eventually.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Job Well Done
Quiescent now for many years.
I never thought to feel again.
The hunting instinct which now stirs.
An urge I must try to restrain.
My conscience is reminding me.
I have retained my hunting skill
Which I could employ usefully.
In hunting those prepared to kill.
Without remorse and randomly.
To satisfy some twisted lust.
Though not the man I used to be.
I have decided that I must.
Identify the latest one.
But acting unofficially.
I much prefer to hunt alone.
No petty rules to hamper me.
I’ve studied very carefully
the clues the killer left behind.
Such killers act predictably.
Which makes them easier to find.
I do not have to justify
my actions in a court of law.
It is my judgement he must die.
Make certain that he kills no more.
I’ll leave sufficient evidence.
To prove his guilt beyond all doubt.
I have not lost my confidence.
That sins will always find you out.
Though I hide my identity.
It is an act of self defence.
It also means that I am free.
From any outside influence.
No lawyers claiming innocence.
No bleeding hearts to plead his cause.
In truth he has no real defence.
I execute him for just cause.
The city can now sleep in peace.
The killer’s dead as he should be.
I think that I deserve release
From my self appointed duty.
I will return from whence I came.
Adopt my true identity.
Certain no one knows my name.
Ensuring my security.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Silent Eloquence for M lady Dee Daffodil
They say dead men do not tell tales.
This once was true but not today
Forensic science rarely fails.
Technology has shown the way.
We re-examine evidence
long thought to be of little use.
Our scrutiny is so intense,
that criminals are bound to lose.
Although they think they’re free and clear.
No one can tie them to their crime,
we’re dogged and we persevere.
We do not rush, we take our time.
Some criminals who still walk free
will soon discover that we can
prove their guilt indisputably.
In variably we get our man.
We have the latest gadgetry
we can recover D.N.A
from tiny fragments easily.
Eventually then you will pay.
The full price for your evil deed
although you think you’ve got away.
We will persist til we succeed.
We’re on your track and there we’ll stay.
We’ll forge a chain of evidence
that proves your guilt beyond all doubt
Then you will pay for your offence.
As in due course you will find out.
When you are brought before the court
No doubt you will plead not guilty.
You aren’t as clever as you thought.
You thought you’d got away Scott free.
Although Dame Justice may be blind.
She is prepared to listen to
any evidence we can find.
That pins the blame squarely on you..
Dead men can speak eloquently
and do when we investigate
assisted by technology
You can’t escape it is too late.
23-Jan-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Vampires: There's No Such Thing.
.
Count Dracula. A mere upstart.
He is not what he claims to be
A peasant born he plays the part.
Although he lacks the pedigree.
His pursuit of publicity
reveals his base born origin.
The vampire aristocracy
keep careful records of their kin.
He has no proof to offer you.
Although he claims to be a Count.
He cannot prove his claim is true.
A base born lout of no account.
The vampire aristocracy
have sworn to destroy Dracula.
He broke the code of secrecy.
In doing so he went too far.
I can’t reveal how it was done.
Though Dracula will boast no more
A pile of dust lies in the sun.
Which means there’s one less predator.
Though he’s long gone his legend lives.
He‘s seen as a celebrity.
It seems that history forgives
his claim to aristocracy.
Though we do not, we won’t forget.
The damage he did to our cause.
We had the right to be upset
and to defend ourselves of course.
We prefer to live in secrecy
As we have always tried to do.
We do not seek publicity
it would be rather foolish to.
As long as modern man believes
that vampires simply don’t exist.
We are quite happy that they self deceive
Long may their foolishness persist.
Big cities are our hunting ground
nobody misses waifs and strays.
Although their bodies may be found.
Nobody seems to care these days.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Misplaced Trust symmetrical verse.
Symmetrical verse
Misplaced trust
.
I lost my way
Was led astray
By those I thought I could believe
But were not what they seemed to be
Because I was young and naïve
I trusted them too easily
Their confidence was all pretence.
I should have used my common sense.
Gone my own way
Without delay.
But I did not I thought they knew
Which way to go which wasn’t true.
They lied to me
As liars do.
Saturday,29 October 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Public Servant
Public servant
I have no choice it must be done
before my only chance is gone.
I have him clearly in my sights
and I am well within my rights.
He is armed, prepared to kill.
I have no doubt at all he will.
He is a threat to everyone.
I have no choice it must be done.
Although I would rather not
I must squeeze off the fatal shot.
I chose to shoot him through the head
make certain sure that he is dead.
Before he can shoot anyone
The choice is mine and mine alone.
I kill the man reluctantly
but that is how it has to be
I swore to serve and to protect.
The public and they all expect.
Me to carry out my duty
As best I can efficiently.
The man is dead the threat is gone
And normal life can carry on.
Nobody spares a thought for me
They do not care apparently.
05/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Misplaced Trust
Symmetrical verse
Misplaced trust
.
I lost my way
Was led astray
By those I thought I could believe
But were not what they seemed to be
Because I was young and naïve
I trusted them too easily
Their confidence was all pretence.
I should have used my common sense.
Gone my own way
Without delay.
But I did not I thought they knew
Which way to go
which wasn’t true.
Saturday,29 October 2011
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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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Sunday morning Pests.
Two thousand years or so ago.
Three criminals were crucified.
And yet today we claim we know
One was the son of God and died.
We cannot prove that this true
there’s very little evidence.
But we are still expected to
give these stories full credence.
By word of mouth they were passed down.
Translated from old Aramaic.
They came from sources now unknown
Could they free from all mistake.
When they written finally
Although no doubt with good intent
Were they translated properly
or were they changed by accident.
By accident or purposely.
Perhaps a mixture of the two
To claim divine authority.
To me it simply will not do.
To tell me that I must believe.
What may or may not be true.
Is something which you won’t achieve.
There’s very little you can do.
I can’t accept on faith alone.
Until you can prove the things you teach.
are truths that stand up on their own.
Consider me beyond your reach.
Christianity could very easily
have flourished for a while and died.
It owes its popularity.
To information men supplied.
Who had some private axe to grind
Men who stood to benefit.
Perhaps you think I am unkind
that I can’t prove a word of it
I can’t deny that it is so
I don’t expect you to agree.
But I believe you do not know
The whole truth any more than me.
I can respect what that you believe
I do not find it difficult
But I’m not willing to receive
Indoctrination by some cult.
So please don’t knock upon my door
Attempting to convert me to your view
Because I’ve heard it all before
and I’ve got better things to do.
Than listen to the likes of you.
02/09/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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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Realpolitik
A trumpet blared defiantly.
Into a hell of shot and shell,
a gallant charge of cavalry
But few survived their tale to tell.
There is no place in modern war
for such outmoded strategy.
More suited to the days of yore.
Today there is no chivalry.
You must defeat the enemy.
Attempt to take him by surprise
and gain superiority
by any method you can devise.
Improving your technology.
You have to strive to keep abreast,
increasing your ability
To kill more quickly than the rest.
The rules of war are broken by
most nations when its suits their book.
They are prepared to cheat and lie.
They mean to win by hook or crook.
The winners write the history.
Which proves that they were innocent.
They could have been quite possibly
Devoid of any ill intent.
I find it difficult to believe.
Perhaps I am too sceptical
of the facts I can retrieve.
from stories that are typical.
Attempts to prove the enemy
were without doubt the ones to blame.
Proclaim themselves to be guilt free.
All part and parcel of the game.
The winners speak eloquently
The losers are denied a chance
to state their case with clarity.
In the prevailing circumstance.
The tales you read of chivalry.
may serve quite well to entertain.
The tales of friendly rivalry
Cannot be true: I must maintain.
I try to keep an open mind.
When I am reading history.
But the anomalies I find.
Merely serve to convince me.
The first casualty in any war.
Is the plain truth, it has to be.
As the opponents jockey for
their chance to rewrite history.
Lies damn lies and statistics prove
Exactly what the victors choose.
It seem historians approve
Perhaps they have too much to lose.
25/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Night thoughts pour M'sieur Savin
Night thoughts
The night is still I sit alone
with just my thoughts for company
I marvel how the years have flown
and view the past regretfully.
On looking back I clearly see.
Decision which I made in haste
were often taken foolishly.
Mistakes which left a bitter taste.
Caused hurt to others needlessly
There is no way to transfer blame
It’s my responsibility.
I was a novice at life’s game.
Is all I offer in defence
Like all young men I knew it all,
which does not lessen my offence.
My conscience insists I recall.
The things I did which I should not
and things I didn’t do I should.
The minor sins I had forgot.
I sit alone in pensive mood.
I am a man no more no less
Not wholly bad or wholly good
A subtle blend of both I guess.
A sudden change of attitude.
I realise I’m not unique,
that every body has regrets.
I find the peace of mind I seek.
My conscience mollified quiets.
The pearly light of early dawn
dispels the darkness easily.
I start the day with hope reborn
forget the night hour’s misery.
I cannot claim to be perfect
Freely acknowledge I am not
nobody is. I must accept
I thought I was when I was not.
27-Nov-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moral Obligation?
Quintilla format.
His lover was in constant pain.
She could no longer bear the strain.
So he decided it was best
To grant her unspoken request.
Although it was against the law.
What right has anyone to say.
She has to suffer in this way.
When it's not necessary.
He has the means to set her free.
Why should she suffer anymore.
She smiled at him because she knew.
That what she wanted, he would do.
He was absolutely sure.
There was no prospect of a cure.
And chose to disregard the law.
He is no fool and recognises
That some will choose to criticise.
As they are entitled to.
He did what he thought he must do.
The time has come to change he law.
The right to die with dignity
When life has lost its quality.
Though it's forbidden by the state.
Is open to renewed debate.
With arguments against and for.
The state will try to prove that he.
Should be deprived of liberty.
Although he had no ill intent
He still merits some punishment.
He placed his love above the law.
Prepared to face the consequence.
Because he used his common sense.
And saved her from sheer agony.
His conscience bid him set her free.
Obedient to a higher law.
Tuesday,25 September 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dulce et Decorum a rant
What of the dead, the glorious dead.
The heroes who of whom it’s said
Laid down their lives in freedoms cause.
The men who died in foreign wars…
Whose freedom were they fighting for?
Whose liberty did they restore?
The history books do not make clear.
What right we had to interfere?
In other countries home affairs
or is it true nobody cares
about the plight of the oppressed
in any country East or West.
Unless the threaten our supplies.
It seems to me one rule applies.
We are prepared to tolerate
the tyrants ruling any state.
That can supply something we need
despite their cruelty and greed
We have no right to intervene.
Or double standards are obscene.
We do not send our men to die
and justify our actions by.
Quoting international laws
nobody body bothers to enforce.
Though when it comes to oil supply
we intervene immediately.
A very different rule applies
and over comes morality.
Freedom is a commodity
which can be bartered bought and sold
and has been by humanity
Forever if the truth be told.
What of the dead the glorious dead
of whom in truth it could be said.
Unknowingly they paid the price
of other peoples avarice.
16-Sep-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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What if it were true?
Hector, Ajax and Hercules
and other heroes such as these.
All suffered from the same disease.
They thought they were invincible.
Now every one of them is dead.
I know this from the books I’ve read.
Unlike my ancient Uncle Fred.
Who thought it might be possible.
To find a way to stay alive
a certain method to survive
Towards this end then he would strive
Although it seemed improbable.
A coward too afraid to die.
Although he was clever guy
well versed in ancient history.
He thought he could be comfortable.
If he could find a vampire who
he thought could be persuaded to
make him into a vampire too
and grant him immortality.
I half believed when I was small
My uncle often came to call
but always late after night fall.
Which made me feel uncomfortable.
But now I take a different view.
I don’t believe his tales were true
Nor do I think my siblings do.
I think it is impossible.
By bright sunlight I am certain
but after dark I think again.
What if my uncle Fred did gain
his wish for immortality.
I hoped that he was telling lies
and so it came as no surprise.
To find one single rule applies.
Vampires do not seek publicity.
Real vampires do not advertise
They consider it’s not wise.
Although my uncle really tries
his stories cannot convince me.
I know my uncle’s very old.
And that he cannot stand the cold.
From stories that my parents told
concerning his longevity.
My father says he will not die
My mother says that’s all my eye.
But still I wonder sometimes why.
He’s lived so long. It seems to me.
Just possible he’s told the truth.
The secret of eternal youth
springs from some ancient vampires tooth.
The bite of immortality.
I know that in reality
vampires are just a fantasy.
That people can live naturally.
Far longer than seems possible.
No body knows the reason why.
Examined scientifically.
It seems that everyone must die.
No one can live eternally.
But Uncle Fred refuses to.
I can’t believe his tales are true.
He sleeps all day as vampires do.
at his age it’s permissible.
I tell myself it makes no sense
for Fred to keep up this pretense.
I have to do in self defence.
I find it much preferable.
To believing Uncle Fred
Is exactly as he said
A member of the living dead.
That would be truly terrible.
18/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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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