Free Lunch for Doc Wilde
Free lunch: there’s no such thing!
There is a price for every thing,
although at first it may seen free.
There’s strings attached you do not see.
The innocent and the naïve,
might well mistakenly believe.
That kindly merchants give away
some things for which you need not pay.
Then realise to their surprise
that they have paid a higher price.
for something free apparently.
They have been screwed right royally.
If it looks too good to be true
it usually is I’m telling you.
7-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Global warming; phooey
The morning breaks it’s dull and grey
another wretched winter’s day.
There’s some mistake the month is May.
It’s not a day I have to say
to rise up smiling from your bed
far better stay and sleep instead
Enjoy the dreams which fill your head.
There’s little more that can be said.
Perhaps tomorrow will be bright
I will awake to bright sunlight
and greet the new day with delight.
The weather man has got it right.
But then again he might not do
another day for feeling blue.
28-May-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Mother knows
The odour of an apple pie.
Fresh baked and set aside to cool.
Would tempt a stronger soul than I
to discard sense and play the fool.
Beneath that crisp and golden crust
there lie stewed apples rich and sweet.
Arousing a small boy’s greedy lust.
My mother is nobody’s fool
she knew just what I hand in mind
and well before I broke the rule,
She took a switch to my behind.
It was my turn I had to learn
though mother’s kind she can be stern.
4-Sep-08
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My Time for M lady Ann Beard
Hoar frost on trees can imitate
the snow white blossoms of the spring.
On this I choose to meditate
to clear my mind of everything.
The whirling thoughts which madly dance
and try to hold my interest.
Cannot disturb my quiet trance
they cease to spin and fall to rest
My mind is clear as a deep pool
reflecting nothing but the sky.
The placid depths are clear and cool.
I’m only conscious I am I.
This is my time to simply be
If only temporarily.
2-Jan-09
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Another day for M lady Chitra
As morning breaks the East glows red
Sad shadows of the night depart.
Then yawning men rise from their bed.
The time has come today must start.
Some men rejoice but others curse
dependent on their attitude.
The sad ones say that life gets worse
but others show their gratitude.
Raising voices in hymns of praise.
For safety granted through the night
How blessed are the men who pray
and greet the morning with delight.
and cursed be those who cannot see
beyond their self wrought misery.
18-Sep-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Incomprehensible for friend Chandra
Some say there’s only energy
vibrating differentially.
It’s all illusion that we see.
This idea really baffles me
This point of view is nothing new
the eastern mystics thought so too.
If it is true then it would seem
that everybody shares one dream.
Which seems to me illogical.
I find it rather comical
Hilarious in the extreme.
Some one or something has to dream.
Without a dreamer there could be
no dream; It follows logically.
Friday,11 December 2009
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Simplistic Style. for J.T.Early
Winter is waiting in the wings
Until his turn to take the stage.
Amused at autumns posturings
He will create a pristine page
On which to paint in black and white
An austere winter beauty show.
Pictures dependent on the light
reflecting from the fallen snow.
He has a limited palette
Displaying his flawless technique.
Paints pictures you will not forget
because each picture is unique.
The gaudy autumn colours go
Replaced by winters coat of snow.
11/10/2009
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Visible Deterrent.
.
Patrolling city streets by night.
On foot as policemen used to do
To check that everything’s alright
Gives you a very different view.
To the busy daytime streets, where
Throngs of people go to and fro.
Along the shopping thoroughfare
Or anywhere they want to go.
Some people see you as a threat
And others as a guardian.
As you patrol about your beat.
A uniformed policeman.
A sight you rarely see today.
I must admit to my dismay.
Sunday,25 September 2011
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Bewildered for M lady Tara
Art thou as pure as driven snow?
As virginal as thou dost seem.
An angel walking here below
or art thou but a fleeting dream.
Thou seemest to me to be real
Thine image nightly haunting me.
Into my dreams thy face doth steal
and smiles on me bewitchingly
I know not who or what thou art
but must suppose thou knowest me
and cast thy spell to claim my heart
Which I would give thee willingly
mayhap thou art a fantasy
I conjure up unconsciously.
09/07/2009
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Passive Resistance.
Beneath the sky, the restless sea
Was lapping at the shingle shore.
As it had often done before.
The shingle resists stubbornly.
It won't surrender easily.
And when tide ebbs will restore
The pebbles from its endless store.
Kept in reserve permanently.
The shingle beach lies passively
The sea is forced to come and go.
Although it act aggressively
When the tide is in full flow.
It will retreat reluctantly
When tidal energy runs low.
Wednesday,29 February 2012
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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