Far Memory.
I’m haunted by strange memories
of places I have never been
I can remember vividly
Street scenes I know I have not seen
It’s very strange and puzzles me.
I cannot see how possibly
I have access to memories
I know do not belong to me.
I see street scenes from long ago.
Though where they are I do not know.
The clothes are unfamiliar.
To me they seem peculiar.
I think it may be Budapest.
But honestly that’s just a guess.
It could be almost anywhere.
But I am sure I’ve not been there.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Simple Question for friend Thad
Simple question
You do not see me follow you.
But I assure you that I do
I need to know you live alone
and if you have a mobile phone.
I’ve checked your home security
and am sure it will not bother me.
When I decide the time is right
to visit you one stormy night.
For months I’ve had you in my view
anticipating what you’ll do.
Will give in without a fight
or bite and kick to my delight.
I shall enjoy subduing you
then doing what I came to do.
No one to heed your frantic screams
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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.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Not My Concern tissue warning
The night was dark and damp and cold.
The match girl’s matches still unsold.
The passers by ignored her pleas
what she was selling failed to please.
An orphan child without a home.
By circumstances forced to roam
She earns enough to pay her way
but not today, but not today.
Ill clad in rags and frozen through
her tiny hands and feet are blue.
The freezing rain turns into snow
The match girl has nowhere to go.
Without money, she cannot buy
a night in somewhere warm and dry.
She tries in vain to sell her wares
Without success, nobody cares.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Just deserts
I’ve killed before and will again.
I kill for justice not for gain
So many criminals go free
because of their ability.
To hire a lawyer who will try
To make the truth appear a lie
So they escape just punishment.
Although it is self evident
That crafty legal argument
based on some ancient precedent
The merest technicality
persuades the judge to set them free
I’m not constrained by petty rules
and those that are I see as fools
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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More than equal Story poem for M'lady Lucianne
The Moated Grange beside the lake
stands empty now and desolate.
The Marchioness burnt at the stake
long years ago a gruesome fate.
She ruled the countryside by fear
for she possessed the evil eye.
The locals do not venture near.
No man is brave enough to buy.
Developers have thought to try
Prospect of profits uppermost.
But they withdraw I wonder why
perhaps they fear her angry ghost
The grange is left to slow decay.
The Ivy on its grey stone walls
grows thicker every passing day
and will until the last stone falls.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Prithe sweet maid say yea for M lady ernestine
Prithee sweet maid; say yes
I bespeak thee with courtesy
Although as yet thou knowest not.
My background and my family.
Thy beauty hath ensorcelled me.
Sometimes strict rules must be forgot
I mean thee no discourtesy.
Thou art the maid I have long sought.
I pray thou wilt consider me.
Well suited to be thy consort.
If thou lookest on me kindly
I will seek out thy sire and plead
his permission to pay thee court.
I am of noble blood like thee
and not unhandsome I believe.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Why should you believe me?
I guarantee that you can be
from this day forth quite vampire free..
Don’t turn away, listen to me
It is quite free there is no fee.
I do not ask that you pay me
nor even ask you to agree.
Vampires can bite so suddenly
and then you live eternally.
Driven by hunger constantly
you will thirst uncontrollably.
Every throbbing throat you see
as a meal tantalisingly.
If this is what you want to be.
Then just ignore me pointedly
As people do ignorantly.
In my opinion foolishly.
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Success Story fo M 'lady Ernestine
She was as timid as a mouse.
Kept firmly under mothers thumb
she very rarely left the house.
Her mother taught her she was dumb.
But mother died and she was free
to do the things she wanted to.
None to frown disapprovingly
and tell what her she had to do.
An innocent of twenty three
Although she lacked self confidence.
She was still wise enough to be
well guided by her common sense.
She knew that she must take it slow.
There was so much she had to learn,
so many things she did not know.
Each hurdle she would take in turn.
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When the time is right Story poem for M lady Tara
At sixteen years she was naïve.
Lived in a world of fantasy,
she was convinced that dreams come true.
But she would learn they seldom do.
By twenty two she was sure she knew.
She’d had a broken heart or two
That only fools placed trust in men.
She wouldn’t fall in love again.
But concentrate on her career
The price of love was much too dear.
She was content with single life
and had no wish to be a wife
At thirty she began to doubt.
She felt that she was missing out
on something she could not define.
She recognised the warning sign.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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