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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Related quotes
Am I a Sinner or a Saint?
I will supply pure heroine
To all the hopheads on the street
And then the clean up will begin
I’ll rid the city of dead beats.
A drastic plan but effective.
The have free choice they need not use.
It is their choice to live or die.
I doubt that many will refuse.
Am I sinner or a saint?
to contemplate mass homicide
To rid the city of this taint.
It’s up to you, you must decide.
Am I murderer or not.
They choose to use what I supply
Some use a little some a lot.
Is it my fault if they all die.
I am the last man they’d expect
to even think of such a plan.
For after all who would suspect.
such tactics from a clergyman.
My plan proved to be a great success
The city streets are safer now.
I have some doubts I must confess.
But I feel justified some how.
I do believe in mans free will.
To choose to use or not use
A substance which will likely kill.
I don’t believe in drug abuse.
17/10/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Inheritors.
A silent world where no bird sings
A world devoid of living things.
Only the fittest could survive.
The Roaches adapted and still thrive.
The human race has long since died.
Killed by their overweening pride
Although they thought they were the best
they are as dead as all the rest.
Ignoring Mother Natures rule
a race of self destructive fools.
They meddled with and altered genes.
Creating hybrid in betweens.
The end result is as you see.
Cockroaches rule triumphantly.
29/10/2009
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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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A voice crying in the wilderness
Revealed to me exclusively.
Its natures plan to erase man.
No one accepts this prophecy.
They don’t believe that nature can.
Tight close their eyes so they can’t see
the facts parade before their eyes.
Although they will eventually
when they are facing their demise.
We’re living in the latter days.
We have been warned which we ignored
perhaps too late to mend our ways.
So we will reap our just reward.
become extinct like dinosaurs
for disobeying Natures Laws.
25-Jun-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Wondering for M 'lady Tara
.
Today I saw a winsome Nun.
A negative in black and white.
I wondered if she had begun
to question if her choice was right.
And was she really positive
a life of prayer would satisfy
When she had so much more to give,
given the opportunity
Had her choice been freely made?
Or was she merely dutiful?
Had she been promised as a child?
It’s not at all unusual
to be denied the right to choose.
A subtle form of child abuse.
19-May-08
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Crows for Konstantin
Crows.
The noise of conflict dies away.
Those left alive will now depart.
Only the dead allowed to stay,
they have no further part to play.
The warring sides in full retreat
The crows tonight dine on fresh meat.
Though neither side claims victory.
The crows will feast quite happily.
Since man first slew another man.
It seems to be Dame Natures plan.
The crows will feast on the remains
The scavengers alone will gain.
While warring sides must count the cost
of fighting men that they have lost.
Perhaps one day we’ll realise
In war there are no victories.
Bar for the crows who do not fight
but satisfy their appetite.
On those who do who in their view
Choose to fight. they don’t need to.
Although in death they feed the crows.
I don’t suppose the crows oppose.
The idea that men come to blows.
Nor do they care I must suppose.
The only winners are the crows
who feast until they’re comatose.
On what is left of those who chose
to risk their lives exchanging blows.
Sunday,09 May 2010
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Clear the Stage
The world was; before mankind was born
and will be when the last mans gone
There will be no left to mourn.
Who will replace us still unknown
It seems that since the world began
Dame Nature tries experiments
the latest of which seems to be man
She has established precedents.
At one time reptiles ruled the earth.
at last ashamed of what she’d wrought.
Great behemoths of giant girth
She wiped them out without a thought.
She cleared the way to try again
With creatures more intelligent
the reptile’s loss the mammals gain.
This seemed to her to represent.
A forward leap towards her goal.
Although she waited patiently
She was convinced that on the whole
too little progress she could see.
She thought maybe that the monkeys
With just a little tinkering
could be persuaded from the trees
The monkeys proved to be willing.
Monkeys evolved slowly into men
and not quite as she meant they should...
Her well laid plans had failed again
At last Dame Nature understood.
Mankind was too belligerent.
Determined to go his own sweet way.
A little too intelligent
he saw no reason to obey.
the rules Dame Nature had laid down
Rebelled against them constantly.
Convinced that he should wear the crown
Until at last reluctantly.
She thought it time to call a halt.
Another failed experiment
some inbred genetic fault.
Rendered them obsolescent.
The human race had reached their peak
and stubbornly refused to change.
Considering themselves unique.
The time had come to re arrange.
the way they thought and urgently.
They’d had their chance but lost their way
Nature reacted ruthlessly
That’s why there are no men today.
The world is peaceful once again
Without the constant battling
between opposing bands of men.
There is no sabre rattling.
I have no doubt she’ll try again
Perhaps next time she’ll get it right
with some new race replacing men
Without the warlike appetite.
The world was before mankind was born
and will be when the last man has gone
their wilfulness not to be borne.
the fault was theirs and theirs alone.
Dame nature warned them frequently
Her warnings they chose to ignore
So full of pride they could not see
That it was time to pay the score.
Extinction is the penalty
which failed experiments must pay.
This is the harsh reality
The race of man has had its day.
28-Jan-09
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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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Rethink in progress for M 'lady Mamta
Rethink in progress.
The empty skies are echoing. There are no song birds left to sing.
There are no trees there is no grass. What was foretold has come to pass.
The world is dead and desolate. Mankind did not appreciate
the need for conservation. He practiced exploitation.
Although resources were finite. Mankind thought they had the right
to freely use all they could find and paid the future little mind.
Some realised but far too late what was to be their future fate
When all resources had been used but sadly most point blank refused.
To change their foolish wasteful ways, Thought new resources would replace.
What they consumed without a care and stripped the earth completely bare.
The race of man has now died out.The earth is better off without.
The race of greedy parasites who could not curb their appetites.
A self inflicted genocide: Mankind committed suicide.
The earth lies fallow now to rest because Gaia thinks it’s best
But in due course she’ll try again. With a new race to replace men.
We were a bold experiment which did not work as it was meant.
Wednesday,24 February 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Monochromatricks For M'lady Tara
When winter comes the forest trees
all do a colourful striptease
Discarding their leaves one by one
until the very last is gone
but even so they’re beautiful
although not so colourful.
A tracery of black on white
silhouettes against the light
grey white of the wintery sky
But pleasing to an artists eye
I like the sheer simplicity
I can attempt successfully
to paint though I’m an amateur.
In monochrome as I prefer
.
19/10/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Final solution implemented
I often feel the urge to kill
and just as often I resist.
I know for sure one day will.
These insane urges still persist.
I told my doctor how I feel.
He said that I must learn to deal
When such urges bother me
that they are only fantasy.
Just yesterday I nearly killed.
My life dream almost fulfilled
But some last shred of decency.
Intervened and prevented me.
The lady was so beautiful
her swan like neck so round and full
Oh Lord the woman tempted me.
I could have killed her easily.
The only way to satisfy
my urge to kill: Someone must die,
make fantasy reality.
the one solution I can see
from which I can no longer hide.
My last resort is suicide.
No one else should have to die
My killing urge to satisfy.
I will depart with dignity
and not all reluctantly.
I’ll overdose, die quietly.
My problems solved permanently.
17/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I Rebel
The Norns who weave the tapestry
which rules the fate of mortal men.
Can make mistakes apparently
and some time have to think again.
Though each one blames the other two
and none will admit to their mistake
They have to weave the threads anew.
A lengthy process which can take
almost the life span of a man.
But even Norns are governed by.
The need to heed the master plan,
they have no choice the rules apply
A single thread that’s out of place
can alter mankind’s history.
So they comply with little grace.
What is to be must come to be.
Has man no choice but play the part?
They’ve woven in their tapestry
His path through life right from the start
is fore ordained: no man is free.
The three weird sisters can foresee
future events and bind them fast,
As pictures in their tapestry.
No mortal man can overcast.
The lasting spell the sisters weave.
Although he thinks his will is free.
It matters not what we believe
and therein lies the mystery.
If we believe that this is true.
We are but puppets on a string
and there is little we can do.
To change the slightest little thing.
But I rebel I don’t believe
and make my way as best I can
Accomplish what I can achieve
I am no puppet I’m a man.
22-Sep-08
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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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Bitter Harvest for Friend Corey
The seeds of death are planted by
men reckless of the consequence
They’re meant to kill the enemy.
But they can destroy innocence.
The warring factions have moved on.
Survivors try to till their land
convinced they’re safe that dangers gone.
They simply do not understand.
Land mines don’t differentiate
between a friend and enemy.
They have been armed and lie in wait
until exploding suddenly.
They are designed to kill and
and this they do impartially.
It’s difficult to name and blame
the authors of each tragedy.
There’s very little you can do
except donate towards the cause.
To pay the experts willing to
clear up the land mines left by wars.
This is your chance to show you
care enough to help financially.
We can provide the men who dare
disarm the land mines carefully
To let subsistence farmers farm
so they can feed their families
Without the constant fear of harm
from dangers which they cannot see.
And leave the children free to play
as children are entitled to.
We can all help in some small way
but only if we’re willing too.
3-Feb-09 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The School System
The school system
was not designed for us
Mexican-Americans
america is not designed for us
in school we learn
about wars, time periods this and
that
in only two colors
white and black
racism comes in many colors
its just not between white and black
its more like human to human
there is racism between every
race
and Im tired of seeing media only focus on the two
how can I be motivated as
a Mexican-American when all
I read in class is about
black and white culture and
how they clash
the school sysem was
designed by whites and blacks
and not for us...
poem by Jeremy Rascon
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Temporary Purity
The once white snow is dirty grey.
Churned into slush by passing feet,
pedestrians pass to and fro.
Along this busy shopping street
At 5am it had been white.
Before the world was wide awake
Fresh snow had fallen through the night
like frosting on a birthday cake.
I could not sleep and watched it fall.
My windows overlook the street
Well before anyone at all
had left the marks of booted feet
But life goes on despite the snow,
as all the blurry footprints show.
Monday,09 November 2009
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Tonight could be the last you see!
.
The night is not my enemy.When darkness falls it sets me free.
Thanks to my night adapted eyes.I take my victims by surprise.
Young healthy girls preferably, each one is chosen carefully
It is their choice to walk alone before I claim for my own
I drain their blood efficiently ‘til I have fed sufficiently
Although I know there’s sure to be a hue and cry to search for me
By the time that they are found I will have safely gone to ground
To where my coffin waits for me. I sleep peacefully
Until the sun sets in the west then I resume my nightly quest.
I stalk the city stealthily and find fresh victims easily.
Although the old legends persist they don’t believe vampires exist.
Until the night they catch my eye.Then they believe before they die.
I have to kill to satisfy the burning thirst I can’t deny
I do not slay for cruelty.I need their blood to sustain me
I am as I was meant to be. The predator you do not see
until the night you meet your fate. You may not have too long to wait
It could be you I choose tonight to satisfy my appetite.
If you are wise you’ll stay indoor, safe from night prowling predators.
I don’t suppose you’ll pay much heed. Humans are a stubborn breed
Sunday,07 March 2010.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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100% Fatal
I suffer from a malady.
which is slowly killing me.
There’s no known cause nor any cure.
Its something which I must endure.
A disease universally
accepted reluctantly
As affecting every race
A truth that everyone must face.
We’re born to live a while than die.
Its only when the end draws nigh.
That we review the life we’ve led,
what we could have done instead.
If we had known what we now know.
When we were young so long ago.
Would we have done things differently?
We cannot say with certainty.
Our lives are ruled by circumstance.
We roll the dice and take our chance.
Sometimes we win, sometimes we lose
complaining is of little use.
We can’t opt out refuse to play
the game continues anyway.
Why are we born only to die.
There has to be a reason why.
A part of some great master plan
too complex for the mind of man
to grasp in it’s entirety.
Embracing all impartially.
Wednesday,18 November 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Stupidity.
Stupidity.
We celebrate our dead heroes.
Their white headstones arranged in rows.
To mark where soldiers bodies lie.
They are no longer friends and foes
War cemeteries are tended well
in honour of the men who fell
It is the least that we can do
for men who died by shot and shell.
Each single death a tragedy,
each one recorded carefully.
To satisfy the bureaucrats
who collate deaths statistically.
I wonder why we cannot see.
That death alone claims victory.
Each new war adds to the score
of people dying uselessly.
Though we remember them with pride.
The countless men who sadly died.
Each thinking that their cause was just.
Involuntary suicide.
We celebrate our dead heroes
with white headstones arranged in rows.
Yet we still send young men to die
And always will do I suppose.
We do not learn from history
For no good reason I can see.
That wars prove nothing in the end
Except how stupid we can be.
Wednesday,30 December 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Pandemic
The symptoms strike so suddenly
A headache and a runny nose.
Not serious apparently
you have no reason to suppose.
That you have contracted something new
that you will die in agony.
A mutant strain of common flu
an ever changing enemy.
A virus which we can’t contain
because it spreads so easily
An ancient plague has struck again
Invariably fatally
There’s no escape nowhere to run.
Out breaks occur spontaneously
We’re doing all that can be done.
At home and internationally.
Although some victims do survive
we do not know the reason why
What keeps the lucky few alive.
We have no choice we have to try.
To find a cure for this disease
Which some see as a punishment
inflicted by a god displeased
and others as an accident..
We’ve seen it happen once before
The death toll from the Spanish flu
killed more than died in the Great War.
Nature produces something new.
When mankind’s numbers grow too high.
She knows the world can not sustain
too many people some must die
to reach a balance once again.
She does not flinch or hesitate
She knows exactly what to do
she has to act before too late.
So she creates a mutant flu.
Mans tendency to overbreed
Means Mother Nature will decide
there are too many mouths to feed.
The time has come to override.
The wishes of humanity
Reduce their numbers savagely
A task she does efficiently
although perhaps reluctantly.
What seems to be wanton cruelty
can be a blessing in disguise.
There’s every possibility
The race of man will realise.
The time has come to exercise
his free will much more sensibly.
and that in truth the answer lies
in acting more responsibly.
The earths resources are finite
we have to change our wasteful ways.
Or else give in without a fight
and see the end of mankinds days.
26/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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