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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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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True Heroes
There at my feet my comrade lies
as though he were but fast asleep.
Death came and took him by surprise.
All soldiers know that life is cheap.
As does each politician.
Whose lies persuade young men to go
and sign on as a fighting man.
Because they are too young to know.
Their country’s leaders are not wise.
Although they all profess to be
They all refuse to recognise
in war there is no victory.
Except the claims which death will make.
That he has added to his score
the lives he’s taken and will take.
In this and any future war.
It has been so through history.
Old men send young men to die
and praise them for their bravery
Although they lie and know they lie.
Dead heroes are of little use.
Of course we praise their memory.
It takes a brave man to refuse
to go and face the enemy.
Though some accept they will not kill
but tend wounded where they can
They are prepared to use their skill
to help not harm their fellow man.
01/05/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Fantasy or Fact? for friend C.P Sharma
I am not dead nor do I live.
I hover somewhere in between
No explanation I can give
will prove to be sufficient to.
Describe exactly how I feel.
I long to stay but want to go.
To who or what do I appeal?
I am confused I do not know.
When I return to consciousness
and find I am myself again.
Gone is the sense of timelessness.
I am content and free from pain.
I knew deaths door was open wide
but knew my family needed me.
I did not choose to step inside.
It could have been a fantasy.
I’m sure some few will understand
but only those who have been there.
Most will dismiss it out of hand.
Though not because they do not care.
They simply cannot comprehend
they lack the sensitivity.
To know that death can be a friend
who is prepared to set you free.
But in the end the choice is yours.
It is your life you must decide
which would be the better course.
To just give up or to abide.
I don’t remember which I chose
but obviously I am still here.
I must have chosen I suppose.
But on that point I am not clear.
I can remember vividly
The doctors crowding round my bed
Whilst I was floating happily
and watching from above their heads..
Fantasy or reality
I do not know but I am sure
That it has wrought a change in me
that’s permanent and will endure.
No longer will I fear to die.
I know that death is not the end.
I am quite sure but know not why.
My enemy is now my friend.
I know that death will set me free
When my time comes then I will go
Released from my earthly body.
Towards a future I can’t know.
22/10/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Prophecy for M lady Lucianne
The moon is blue to suit my mood. I’m missing you I knew I would.
My love for you is deep and true but there is little I can do.
I cannot make you want to stay. So I will send you on your way.
I’ll paste a smile upon my face and hope that it will stay in place
until you disappear from view. You have a dream you must pursue.
Whilst I must wait and hope and pray, you will return to me one day.
Perhaps in time you’ll come to know there was no need for you to go.
When you have slaked your wanderlust and found nobody you can trust.
Maybe your thoughts will turn to me; I’ll still be waiting patiently.
I am quite certain you will come back to where you’re always welcome.
By then my love you’re sure to know. I loved enough to let you go.
What had the world to offer you? No one could love you like I do
Now you are home you will remain I will not let you go again.
You had your dream and I had mine. Your dream is dead you must share mine.
Together we’ll find happiness I know we will it’s not a guess.
27-Jan-09
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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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The best laidplans gang aft agley Storypoem
I planned her demise carefully
I was quite sure that it would be
accepted as an accident.
Which left me looking innocent.
I thought I had made no mistakes
but I made one that’s all it takes.
One single shred of evidence
destroyed my claim to innocence.
I should have sued for a divorce
that would have been the wisest course.
Though it would not have satisfied
the hatred festering inside
Caused by the mental cruelty
to which she had subjected me
So I devised the perfect plan
to rid myself of this woman.
My only thought revenge is sweet.
I truly thought in my conceit
That I would get away Scott free.
But fate had other plans for me.
My home is temporarily
a hospital I am not free.
I can still smile I am content
her punishment is permanent.
I was adjudged incompetent
of forming murderous intent
The lawyer who defended me
convinced the judge successfully.
That though I caused my wifes demise
I was too ill to recognise
That killing her would be a crime.
My mind abnormal at that time.
I have no reason to complain
I know that I am not insane
That very soon the powers that be
will certify my sanity.
Although my plans went all awry.
The price I pay is not too high
At last I am well rid of you.
It was well worth it in my view.
18/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Personal Preference
Prudence acted prudently.
She valued her virginity,
Unlike her fellow student Pearl
who chose to be a party girl.
Prudence was prepared to wait
until she changed her single state
She much preferred matrimony
Although her friend did not agree.
Pearl was convinced life should be fun
Had no regrets for what she’d done
In fact believed her way of life
would make her a much better wife.
When she was ready to get wed.
At least when asked that’s what she said.
Which one was right I do not know
that’s something only time will show.
Prudence chose to remain chaste.
Pearl thought celibacy a waste.
Both could be right quite possibly
What right have I to disagree.
12/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Her Own Choice
She could no longer cope alone.
Knew all too well that it was true
and there was something else she knew.
Her race was run, time to move on.
She did not wish to vegetate
in some well run establishment
Where lunch became the main event.
With no attempt to stimulate.
The workings of an agile mind,
trapped inside a useless shell.
A body which had served her well.
Before her health was undermined,
by ailments which progressively
destroyed all of her abilities.
The time had come to quit the game.
So she decided she would die
in her own bed in her own home
To be pain free would be welcome.
So she died voluntarily.
The cause of death no mystery.
She chose to exercise her right,
While she had the will to write
the finish to her life story.
22/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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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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Voluntary Genocide?
The shrill wind whistles through at will.
The remnants of venetian blinds.
The rooms inside are tainted still
with viruses of different kinds
All tailor made which were designed
To only kill selectively
The product of a mad mans mind.
A plan which backfired tragically.
He was convinced he had the right
to alter mankind’s destiny
That everyone who was not white
should be destroyed efficiently.
His master plan was to erase
all non white populations.
And thus provide more living space
for go ahead Caucasians.
Now he is dead with all the rest
of mankind both black and white
Perhaps it worked out for the best.
There are no humans left to fight.
The whole world is free from wars
The only killing is for meat
and that by natures predators.
Who have no choice they have to eat.
The human race which killed for sport
Has had its day and left the stage
It failed to satisfy the court.
Maturity would come with age.
12/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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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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Faith the Facts
Search out all things of good report.
Consider each one carefully,
things are not always as you thought.
As you will find most probably.
What you were taught to be the truth
is very often far from true.
Lessons taught you in your youth
by those you thought knew more than you.
As you mature you learn to see.
They taught you their own biased view
Which you examine critically
And then discard most as untrue.
Your old beliefs grow obsolete.
Examine all the evidence
New facts emerge though incomplete,
you then accept what makes most sense.
What you were taught no longer true.
You can’t rely on faith alone.
Although the clergy urge you to
Because too much remains unknown
Wednesday,25 November 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Paid in full for friend Leslie
Like a feathered arrow flying.
Straight and true but silently
Speeds the message of your dying
a missile you won’t hear or see.
When you chose to slay my tribesmen.
Slaughter squaws and little children
striking in the dead of night.
My people had no chance to fight.
You thought no one had survived
unaware one warrior lived.
From my totem seeking guidance
I chose to meditate by chance.
In the forest secretly
I kept my vigil faithfully.
Alerted by he dying cries
of people dying by surprise.
Cut down by killers as they slept.
I had no choice but to accept.
My totem had protected me
because my totem could foresee.
The secret plans of wicked men
Who had killed and would again.
Great Manitou had chosen me
to hunt them down relentlessly
Their punishment my sole intent
I knew I would not rest content.
Until the last of them had died
My spirit wails unsatisfied..
when the last of them has paid
the price for the part he played.
in murdering my family.
My quest will end successfully
When my arrow pierces you
a punishment long overdue.
I will give praise to Manitou
as any warrior ought to do.
20/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Final solution
The countless dead unburied lay beneath a covering of clay.
The good earth turned to dark red mud mixed with the best of soldier’s blood.
It mattered not how many died for death could not be satisfied.
Brave men who fought for their country. Death chose amongst them randomly.
I lived although my comrades died. Death often took them from my side.
Why did I live? So I can tell the world about the living hell
wich we endured knee deep in mud. I think it fitting that I should.
So many died on either side. Involuntary suicide
To fight a war they could not win, to no more see their kith and kin
Like every war it proved to be a total waste, a mockery
The cream of Europe’s fighting mem would never see their homes again.
What did it prove the First World War? Nothing we had not known before!
Though we remember those who died. The lessons learned are not applied
for men still battle constantly to prove superiority.
It seems mankind can’t live in peace, that wanton killing will not cease
Until death has added to his score the last man and there are no more.
I think that then and only then the world will be at peace again.
16/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Who goes there? for friend Thad
By the rosy light of dawn.
A squirrel chatters noisily
as if his duty is to warn.
a task which takes seriously
He warns them all that draw near.
Although in fact I mean no harm
Wild creatures swiftly disappear
in response to his shrill alarm.
They can’t afford to take the chance
so they react instinctively
The price of life is vigilance
and that is why I seldom see
Wild creatures who quite naturally
conceal themselves and hide from me.
20/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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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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It could be for C.P Sharma
We search for truth but would we know
if our quest met with success
Perhaps truth changes as we grow.
We can’t be sure so we must guess.
Maybe there is no absolute
unchanging truth that’s permanent.
So we adopt beliefs to suit
whatever seems convenient
That’s fits in with what we think we know.
Because we fail to recognise
What we’ve been taught my not be so.
Though in due course we realise.
The quest fir truth which we pursue
would seem to be man’s destiny.
Its something we were born to do.
To search for truth continually
Although it seems illogical
I offer you this theory
The truth is something personal.
My truth only applies to me.
Your truth is only true for you.
It’s just another theory
I have no way to prove it true.
although it could be possibly.
26/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Vanity
The lady wept hot bitter tears
but could not stay the passing years
She tried to hide the evidence
and willingly spared no expense.
She bought the latest creams and pills
and lotions guaranteed to please
But none of them could cure her ills
Because old age is not disease.
Her older sister wiser far
although she was particular
about hygiene and cleanliness.
Also the way she chose to dress.
Was not afraid of getting old
nor of the tales her wrinkles told.
She said she’d earned them honestly,
displaying them triumphantly.
Old age is not an enemy
you can accept it gracefully.
Or waste your money foolishly
pursuing dreams that cannot be.
24-Jun-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Back to my roots for friend Bob
The sun is setting on the sea.
It paints the restless waters red.
I sit alone solitary
and from my vantage point I see
The sky darken to indigo
I sit alone and watch night fall.
I choose to stay although I know
that duty calls and I should go.
Back to the harsh reality
I have to cope with every day.
The endless noise of the city.
With which I feel no empathy.
I must suppose I’ll always be
the country boy that I once was
But driven by necessity
I left my home reluctantly.
There was no future there for me
No way to earn my daily bread
Just endless grinding poverty.
A prospect which I chose to flee.
I was naïve and hopeful then.
I thought the city offered me
A better chance to start again
But sadly I was mistaken.
The hungry city swallowed me.
I found a job which paid my way.
A porter in a mortuary
The ultimate in irony.
I served the dead to stay alive.
But every hour that I was free.
I needed fresh air to survive.
I took my car and I would drive.
Out to the hill above the sea
to fill my lungs with fresh clean air.
And for a little while be free
from scents and sounds of the city.
I will retire very soon.
I think that I have earned the right.
To sit outside my door at noon
or if I choose to watch the moon.
I shall go back where I belong
Back to the open countryside.
Although I’m old I am still strong
I have no doubt I’ll get along.
Quite happily where I should be
I was not meant for city life.
I‘ll leave the city thankfully.
Retirement will set me free.
26/07/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unforgettable.
I remember, I remember
Every year in November.
The night I saw a young boy die.
Every year I wonder why..
Could this death have been prevented.
Yes if people were contented.
just to stand and watch the show
instead running to and fro
Throwing bangers at each other
and in general causing bother
Demonstrating lack of sense,
careless of the consequence
A firework set him on fire.
The flames spread quickly rising higher.
In his panic he chose to run.
The last thing that he should have done.
It was the last mistake he made.
By the time we rendered first aid.
He was burnt from head to toe.
We knew it would be touch and go.
Despite the efforts of a nurse
his condition became worse.
He died before help could arrive.
There was no way he could survive.
On Guy Fawkes Night I stay indoors.
I think I have sufficient cause.
I can remember vividly
a small boy dying tragically.
I remember, I remember
Every year in November.
The night I saw a young boy die
every year I wonder why.
26/10/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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