Uncertainty for Friend J.T. Ellison

There is a question troubling me.
How do I know that I am me?
You question my identity
I answer satisfactorily.
You are convinced that I am me.
Though I have passed your scrutiny
and proved I’m who I claim to be
I’m half convinced that I might be
somebody else who thinks he’s me.
This worries me considerably.
I can’t be sure that I am me
A crisis of identity.
You would worry if you were me
plagued by this uncertainty.

6-May-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Judas Kisses for M lady Helen Unknown

Judas Kisses

The purple shadows far below
the silver moon. Play hide and seek
they quickly come, as quickly go.
Transient and impermanent
like fleeting kisses on the cheek
Kisses bestowed with false intent.
By so called friends who will betray
your confidence without a thought.
your cherished secrets give away
uncaring of the harm they’ve wrought.
A cause to them for merriment.
Kisses bestowed with false intent
a cause to them for merriment.

9-Apr-08
Cornish sonnet

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Little Has Changed

In days of yore she would have been
condemned by neighbours as a witch
Their lack of caring was obscene.
They would have “Swum “her in some ditch.
If she survived she was guilty
If she did not quite innocent
They showed her little charity
a facts that’s all too evident
In modern times it’s different.
We merely have her put away
in some old peoples home: Content
she is no longer in our way
Once out of sight she’s out of mind.
Solution of a different kind

(15-Oct-07)

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Double Standards,

Does God exist: Omnipotent?
If he does, why did man invent
another powerful entity?
To take responsibility,
For all the evils which men do.
Which seems to me to contradict
omnipotence which can’t be true.
If he’s unable to predict.
How his creatures will behave.
Although in fact they have free will
Our own desires can enslave
us. Searching for forbidden thrills.
Is there a Satan or a God?
Belief in both is rather odd.

05/11/2009
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Trivialties

It’s little things that drive you wild.
Way past the point of no return
All though by nature meek and mild.
Eventually the worm will turn.
Into a monster seeking blood.
Something you do unconsciously
can often be misunderstood.
Because you do it constantly
As if you meant to irritate
Although are quite unaware
you’re partner becomes so irate
That with an axe he parts your hair.
That’s why you’re dead and I’m in here
your habit was too much to bear.

17-Sep-08

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Ragbag Mind.

Sometimes I think I’m ignorant
at other times I know I’m not.
Though you may think I’m arrogant
I really do know quite a lot
A mass of trivialities
my mind has safely stored away
Odd peculiarities.
Exactly why I cannot say.
Just odds and sods of little use
in the hum drum of everyday.
I don’t know why mind should choose
what it will lose or what must stay.
I think that eccentricity
must be my speciality.

Monday,25 January 2010
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Mutual Respect fo M lady Tara

My grandma knew a thing or two
about the herbs that freely grew
From which she brewed her remedies
that served to cure a cough or wheeze.
She always said for each disease.
There was herb which would bring ease.
The local village doctor knew
that she knew more than he claimed to
. Before the N.H.S. became
the major player in the game.
They cured the ills of every man,
the wise old doctor and My Gran
Each held the other in respect
a partnership both could accept.

26-Nov-07

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Safe delivery for M'Lady Tara

Lost in the undecided light
which lies between the night and dawn.
When wisps of mist shine pearly white.
like shredded remnants of fine lawn
The waiting time that hesitates,
uncertain of its future role.
The growing light facilitates
its transformation: Makes it whole.
The sky ignites; a living flame
spreads from the east and fills the sky.
To all the world it stakes its claim.
New life burst forth triumphantly.
A new born babe yells lustily.
Enters the world reluctantly

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Faded photograph

A snapshot taken years ago.
Somewhat lacking clarity.
Of some young guys I used to know
In fact the skinny one is me.
The other two I can recall,
their faces well but not their names
Although I try nothing at all.
My memory is playing games
I wonder where they are today
I wonder if they remember me
The passing years erode away
your memories ability.
To regain any access to
some things you know that you once knew

Monday,13 February 2012
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Unwritten for C.P.Sharma

I bought a new anthology
of poems from the First World War.
I offer no apology
The poetry filled me with awe.

To understand that tragedy
could inspire young poets to write.
Poetry of such great beauty.
To read it is a sacred rite.

I have a strange affinity
with young men cut down in their prime
Who made their mark on history
describing hell in metered rhyme.

I am forced to wonder what
they might have written but could not.

18/05/2009
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