Well deserved?
She outlived him to her delight
Past cruelty gave her the right
She had been treated as a slave
and still he paid beyond the grave.
She still received her monthly cheque.
Though he was killed in a car wreck
She had a claim on his estate.
It seemed to her kindly fate
Made him forget she would be paid
Because the blame was firmly laid
By the court that heard the case
His death his guilt could not erase.
So she continues to receive
The money which he meant to leave
to his latest paramour.
It seems that fate was keeping score.
She feels no sorrow at his death
though he has drawn his final breath
She feels she is entitled to
Receive the payment she is due.
For the way he treated her
Although she knows he would prefer
she did not get a single dime.
She finds the irony sublime.
Tuesday,08 December 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Related quotes
It was not my fault.
I do not think fate deserves blame
For choices which we freely made.
There are no fixed rules in life's game
We have to learn from each mistake.
Sometimes we win sometimes we lose.
The choice we make may prove correct
The course of action which we choose.
May bring success. though I suspect
That when we lose we choose to blame
A cruel fate because we fail.
But we take credit just the same
when we succeed.We do not wail.
Instead we boast of our prowess.
We do not credit kindly fate.
With guiding us towards success.
Though it might be appropriate.
Instead we are very quick to blame
Fate for the times we don't succeed
She does not treat us all the same.
At least on that we are agreed.
Thursday,23 February 2012
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Pure Rationalisation for Friend Thad
A fly has been annoying me.
Persistently and constantly.
My conscience bids me not to kill.
But damn it all I think I will.
That fly will bother me no more.
I killed with a single blow.
I had endured it patiently.
At least an hour maybe more
It pestered me insistently
I had to even up the score
That fly will bother me no more.
I slew that fly intentionally.
It left me with no other course.
Perhaps in time I’ll feel remorse.
Though at the moment I feel pleased
That wretched fly is now deceased.
That fly will bother me no more
though I’m afraid my conscience will.
Sometimes we sin because we choose
although we know we should refuse
and listen to our inner voice.
That bloody fly gave me no choice.
That fly will bother me no more
I killed it quite deliberately.
I know I sinned and must atone
The fly would not leave me alone.
The fly not I caused the offence.
I think my argument makes sense.
The fly will bother me no more
Its death was more than justified.
21/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Life Review. fot J.T, Ellison
When you grow old as you must do
and you look backward to review.
The way that life has treated you
Where you have been, what you’ve achieved.
The blessings given and received.
a great deal more than you believed.
I think you find you are impressed
You know you’ve always done your best
and you have earned the right to rest.
No longer part of the rat race
You live your life at your own pace.
Perhaps you can accept with grace
When you conclude your life review.
You’ve done what you were meant to do.
05/09/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I refuse to be a clone.
From birth to death it seems to me.
That we are never truly free.
To be what we would like to be.
We are expected to conform
to what’s accepted as the norm.
Dictated by society.
WE go to school where we are taught.
To memorise the things we ought.
But no one spares a single thought.
About what we would like to be.
They do not care apparently.
We can’t escape too firmly caught.
Though some of us a very few.
Rebel and we refuse to do
What the system wants us to.
But most accept the status quo.
Because they aren’t allowed to know.
That they are entitled to pursue.
Their cherished dreams in their own way
and no one has the right to say.
That they cannot but they will pay.
The price for their rebellion
against the states opinion.
But some. still do it anyway.
I’m happy to defy the state
and take control of my own fate.
Because I don’t appreciate
being told I must obey
When I can see a better way
than that dictated by the state.
Sunday,09 January 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Inevitable conclusion
Inevitable.
All who are born will surely die.
Nobody can escape their fate
Be they of high or low estate.
We may not know the reason why.
Each one of us will have to wait.
All who are born will surely die
This is a truth none can deny.
We must accept that soon or late
Our time will come Death will not wait.
All who are born will surely die.
Chaucerian Rondel
21/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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It could happen to you.
He walks alone, she walks alone.
Each to the other one unknown.
She dreams of love, he dreams of love.
It seems at last the fates approve.
They met quite accidentally.
The time was right apparently
He smiles, she smiles and then they talk
and they agree to share their walk
She hopes that he, he hopes that she
enjoy each others company.
It seems they did for both agree
to walk together frequently.
He was alone, she was alone.
But now their loneliness has gone.
She has a friend, he has a friend.
It may well be that in the end
They’ll realise that it was meant.
Their meeting was no accident
But fate had planned it from the start
They were not meant to be apart.
And who are they to disagree.
What fate decrees must come to be.
She is content, he is content.
Each thinks the other heaven sent.
As well they might fate has the right
to interfere in love affairs.
Their future now is looking bright.
Fate brings together matching pairs.
Though he was shy and she was shy
Fate had decided they should be
a couple.No one can deny
that fate had matched them perfectly
He’s not alone, she’s not alone
Their friendship slowly ripening
into what they have never known.
As love insists on blossoming.
A daily walk for exercise.
They say is very good for you.
It may well be fate has a surprise
in store.You might find someone too.
Friday,04 December 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Forbidden Territory for M lady Kelly Houseman
I tend my gardens on the moon
The far side which the earth can’t see.
Although I fear that very soon
astronauts will visit me.
I’ll hide my gardens from their eyes.
This is a place they should not be.
This is no time for compromise.
I will repel them forcibly
I value highly solitude
and my hard won serenity
I disdain men’s attitude.
They’re lacking in maturity.
A member of an older race
I’ve paid my dues and earned the right
To protect my own living space
which I keep hidden out of sight.
Intruders I won’t tolerate
I will destroy them instantly
and leave no trace as to their fate.
If they intrude impudently.
I tend my gardens on the moon
with loving care contentedly
and ask from fate one single boon.
No astronaut should bother me.
I live alone because I choose
Preferring my own company
for others I have little use.
In perfect self sufficiency.
13-Aug-08
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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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Aiding and Abetting
The right to live, the right to die
It’s my responsibility.
It is my choice or it should be
When life has lost all quality
I am in constant agony
There’s nothing else in life for me
What right have you to prevent me?
from dying with some dignity.
Why do you think I should endure
the agonies that death would cure.
The choice is mine and mine alone
and I have made my wishes known
Who gave you the right to say me nay.
To bid me that I have to stay
Are you prepared to take my place
and face the future that I face.
You have the right to your own view
but you are not entitled to.
Dictate to me what I should do.
Its long past time for a review.
Clarification of the law.
What the law is and what it’s for.
If I should choose the date and time
Of my demise is that a crime.
And if it’s not, assisting me.
Becoming an accessory.
Should not incur a penalty
but seems to do incredibly.
If suicide is not a crime
and is not apparently.
How can you justify the time.
Punishing those who have helped me..
31/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Who Killed Davey Moore?
Who killed davey moore,
Why an whats the reason for?
Not i, says the referee,
Dont point your finger at me.
I couldve stopped it in the eighth
An maybe kept him from his fate,
But the crowd wouldve booed, Im sure,
At not gettin their moneys worth.
Its too bad he had to go,
But there was a pressure on me too, you know.
It wasnt me that made him fall.
No, you cant blame me at all.
Who killed davey moore,
Why an whats the reason for?
Not us, says the angry crowd,
Whose screams filled the arena loud.
Its too bad he died that night
But we just like to see a fight.
We didnt mean for him t meet his death,
We just meant to see some sweat,
There aint nothing wrong in that.
It wasnt us that made him fall.
No, you cant blame us at all.
Who killed davey moore,
Why an whats the reason for?
Not me, says his manager,
Puffing on a big cigar.
Its hard to say, its hard to tell,
I always thought that he was well.
Its too bad for his wife an kids hes dead,
But if he was sick, he shouldve said.
It wasnt me that made him fall.
No, you cant blame me at all.
Who killed davey moore,
Why an whats the reason for?
Not me, says the gambling man,
With his ticket stub still in his hand.
It wasnt me that knocked him down,
My hands never touched him none.
I didnt commit no ugly sin,
Anyway, I put money on him to win.
It wasnt me that made him fall.
No, you cant blame me at all.
Who killed davey moore,
Why an whats the reason for?
Not me, says the boxing writer,
Pounding print on his old typewriter,
Sayin, boxing aint to blame,
Theres just as much danger in a football game.
Sayin, fist fighting is here to stay,
Its just the old american way.
It wasnt me that made him fall.
No, you cant blame me at all.
Who killed davey moore,
Why an whats the reason for?
Not me, says the man whose fists
Laid him low in a cloud of mist,
Who came here from cubas door
Where boxing aint allowed no more.
I hit him, yes, its true,
But thats what I am paid to do.
Dont say murder, dont say kill.
It was destiny, it was gods will.
Who killed davey moore,
Why an whats the reason for?
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dog watch
The night is cold and clear and still.
The village streets lie quietly.
A bitter wind adds to the chill.
At home is where I’d rather be.
I have no choice I have to go.
My dog insists I take him out.
He knows he is entitled to
his final evening run about.
Then he will settle for the night.
It matter not rain, hail or snow.
He is correct he has the right
to tell me that its time to go.
He knows the time I must suppose.
What puzzles me is how he knows.
Wednesday,23 December 2009.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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unwanted recollections for J.T ellison
I slept and in my dreaming wept
for promises I made: Unkept
The promises I did not keep
return to haunt me in my sleep.
Sometimes prevailing circumstance
had meant that I had little chance.
To do what I said I would do,
at other times it’s sad but true.
Some promises I made were not meant.
I knew that I had no intent
of doing what I had promised.
There seems to be an endless list.
The guilt I feel is real and deep.
My conscience will not let me sleep.
All of the things I should have done
but did not do each single one
Returns at night to punish me.
I must admit deservedly.
Sins from the past I now regret.
I only wish I could forget.
But I cannot although I try
Because I acted wrongfully
I understand the reason why.
My guilty conscience bothers me.
3-Oct-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Beyond all reasonable doubt For J.T ellison
Can it be that you believe?
that justice is what you receive.
If you submit your case to court.
It ought to be but it is not.
All thought of justice is forgot
bogged down in legal argument.
Though you have right upon your side
Although you know the witness lied
it does not mean you’ll win your case.
You cannot prove his words untrue
so there is little you can do.
and at that point your case will fail.
Justice is blind and can be found
outside the court with her eyes bound.
Because she cannot bear to see.
The happenings inside the court
Injustices of every sort
No justice just a travesty.
13-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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In Death, My Final Part
A tower grim; a glowering darkness,
And only brown of red the other hue
– I saw it in the distant eyes –
And yes, He knew, but focussed only
On the mortal soul of mine –
After all, He had a role to play,
And wine: my shivering blood to quaff!
If only I could Him betray –
To break the seal of destiny;
Escape the lone cacophony
That emanates from wailing minds!
Damn the fate of His – it awes and blinds!
But oh! the mighty hammer strikes a toll;
The slow approach of Him upon the knoll
Commences exudation of a dying heart.
Endorsing all, I honed my final part.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death
The final part
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Absolute truth.
We die a little every day.
Commencing with our first drawn breath.
It's what we learn along the way.
Prepares us to accept that Death.
Is not the end though we don't know.
What happens when we cease to breathe
Or where we are supposed to go.
Why is it that we choose to grieve?
When a loved one goes on ahead.
Perhaps we ought to celebrate
that they are free, but choose instead
To weep and wail and rail at fate.
When I die don't cry for me.
Instead be glad that I broke free.
You can be sure you'll follow me
As all must die eventually.
No one escapes this world alive
There's nothing we can do or say.
No matter how hard we may strive.
To alter this in any way.
Sunday,12 February 2012
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Solitude - Acrostic Sonnet
Slumped in a chair the worse for wear, there ne’er find hands to tease
Or tousle through these saddened few grey hairs to sorrow ease.
Lost I await to learn my fate yet yearn for Court’s reprieve -
I sink in pain then think in vain, despondently deep grieve,
Turn to the past with flags half-mast, for arteries now freeze.
Up through the years despite the tears, I bubble memories,
Dark night curtails scope, courage fails, and mirage lights deceive,
Enleached into flesh, spirit too, is hopelessness, life sheaved.
Another day I may I pray discover love’s release
Before grim Death withholds all breath, and pulsing forces cease.
Reality strips slave and free before fame’s aim’s achieved,
Of dust to dust, each one of us at last this life must leave
And never more re[t]urn to bore the reader who’d forget
Death has a date with his estate, waits to discharge the debt.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Catastrophe? for JT ellison
He spoke in deep heart rending tones
which stirred the marrow of your bones.
Of the great sorrow that he bore,
he would know happiness no more.
Whilst busy with some lawful task
he’d slipped and broken his hip flask.
His whisky soaked into the ground.
There was no solace to be found
Unless of course some kindly soul
would volunteer to pay the toll
to have his whisky flask renewed.
Earn his undying gratitude
But we who’d heard his tale before
paid no attention any more.
6-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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List Of Things You Want
You want to be treated fairly.
You want to be treated right.
You want to be treated with respect.
And your dignity protected day and night.
What makes your needs any different than mine?
And why should I treat you more thoughtfully,
Than you have treated me?
And you taught me the many faces,
Of mental and physical abuse.
With declarations to make me feel,
Unqualified to be near a gutter.
And you want what?
From me?
To prove to you I can be humane?
I know I did not hear you say that?
And you called me a heathen too?
Heathens do not give the shirts off their backs.
You want to be treated fairly.
You want to be treated right.
You want to be treated with respect.
And your dignity protected day and night.
And...
May I add,
An all expense paid trip to Fantasy Island.
Hosted by the best psychiatrist available.
With a need to stay.
Put that on your list of things you want.
To have us both hope that happens.
And not soon enough.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wishful Thinking.
.
The old year’s coming to its end.
Few will be sad to see it go.
We greet the New Year as a friend
We live in hope but cannot know.
If the New Year will prove to be.
A year in which we can achieve.
Our cherished dreams successfully.
Though some have doubts most can believe.
Despite their past experience
of disappointments they have known
They set aside their common sense
and are sustained by faith alone.
It seems we all prefer to see.
The New Year optimistically.
Saturday,26 December 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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In Evil Long I Took Delight
In evil long I took delight,
Unawed by shame or fear,
Till a new object struck my sight,
And stopped my wild career.
I saw One hanging on a tree,
In agony and blood,
Who fixed His languid eyes on me,
As near His cross I stood.
Sure, never to my latest breath,
Can I forget that look;
It seemed to charge me with His death,
Though not a word He spoke.
My conscience felt and owned the guilt,
And plunged me in despair,
I saw my sins His blood had spilt,
And helped to nail Him there.
A second look He gave, which said,
“I freely all forgive;
This blood is for thy ransom paid;
I die that thou mayst live.”
Thus, while His death my sin displays
In all its blackest hue,
Such is the mystery of grace,
It seals my pardon too.
With pleasing grief and mournful joy,
My spirit now is fill'd,
That I should such a life destroy,
Yet live by Him I kill'd.
poem by John Newton
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