New take on Blake for My Friend Amy

Little lamb who made thee?
Made thee tender, tasty and sweet,
made thee very good to eat.
A little lamb well pleaseth me
with new potatoes mint and peas.
It satisfies my appetite,
there is no better way to please.
A hungry man who has the right
to have his hunger satisfied
When he’s been hard at work all day.
With tender meat thou hast supplied,
which has been cooked his favourite way.

I do not know my little lamb
but I am glad.I truly am.

18-Sep-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Justifiable? ?

All men can gain the mark of Cain
If they’re provoked sufficiently.
Fury overcasts reasons reign
and he strikes out impulsively.
He kills almost by accident
There is no malice aforethought..
Does this still merit punishment?
Perhaps but of a different sort.
Unlike those men who kill for gain.
Sheer anger renders them insane.
I am quite sure most men could be
afflicted by insanity.
Protecting child hood innocence
from paedophiles. Needs no defence.

14-Sep-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Uninvited company for M 'lady Ernestine

Shy shadows surreptitiously,
when twilight falls invade my room.
I do not let this worry me
they have the right to I assume.
When morning breaks they quickly go
I understand that they must hide.
But where they go I do not know
Some secret place where they abide.
Until the twilight sets them free.
It is then they venture out
silently and stealthily
They are set free to roam about..
I know the shadows mean no harm
and see no reason for alarm

Sunday,17 January 2010.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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So far, So good

Although I’m far from innocent
I have done things I now repent.
In self defence I must protest
I am no worse than all the rest
Whose sins have yet to come to light.
They still profess their innocence
Their sins well hidden out of sight
and yet feel free to take offence.
At peccadilloes I confess.
Which seems to me hypocrisy
as if somehow their sins are less
than those I confess openly.
Because they’re sure nobody knows.
Its human nature I suppose.

09/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Waste not, want not for M'Lady Dee Daffodil

Dead leaves which lately clad the trees
in autumn colours brave and bold.
Are scattered by the playful breeze
Their day is done their story told

Their purpose served they’re obsolete.
A dry dead blanket on the ground
which when disturbed by passing feet.
Produce a crisply rustling sound.

The earth will re absorb them all
though slowly, there’s no need for haste.
A process which is typical
of natures attitude to waste.

What has been used will be re used
and very little is refused.

10-Oct-07

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Flexitime for Friend Denis joe

A blank faced clock which has no hands
must still obey Chronos’ commands.
The minutes pass without display.
Times moves on inexorably
the hours passing speedily
Today replaces yesterday.
Why are men obsessed by the clock
they measure every tick and tock.
What does it matter anyway?
we know that darkness rules the night
and that the day is filled by light.
Some time to sleep and work or play.
Avid clock watchers fail to see
that time can pass variably.

4-May-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Tastefully turned out

I glitter at my husband’s side.
His clothes are chosen carefully
to be a perfect foil for me.
To display all my finery.

My husband show his quiet pride
his delight in escorting me.
To let the other people see
that we are dressed impeccably.

We make it obvious that we have tried
despite our age to show that we.
Still retain the expectancy
we’ll be treated respectfully.

It’s up to us and we decide
A discreet choice of jewellery
will show our credibility
When we are dining publicly

[...] Read more

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Never again for friend Thad

A beer makes a new man of you
and then the new man wants one too
He takes the opportunity
to sink his beer down thirstily.
By then its time for number three
and you are sinking happily
into the state where you’ve lost count.
You can consume any amount
or so you think but you cannot.
Your thought process has gone to pot.
You’ve had too much and you will rue.
Much more than is good for you.
Tomorrow morning you will pay.
Hangovers can last all day.

29-Jun-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Ebenezer Shillingtree.R.I.P

I sit and muse amongst the tombs.
Only disturbed by sonic booms
as fighter planes pass overhead.
A noise enough to wake the dead.
The dead do not agree with me.
Continue sleeping peacefully.
Planes interrupt my train of thought
I cannot get the peace I sought
I seek peace in this cemetery
So I can write my poetry
The dead don’t question what I do.
Perhaps they might do if they knew.
Their headstones can inspire me
I use their strange names shamelessly.

18-May-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Insanity Rules

Slip loose the moorings of your mind.
Freely embrace insanity
it’s freedom of a different kind
from mere eccentricity.
Once you have been certified
they don’t expect normality
You basic needs will be supplied
accommodation is rent free.
No need to rise unless you choose.
You have no need to earn your keep.
No knotty problems to confuse
your mind, which might disturb your sleep..
So why not choose to be insane.
You will lose less than you can gain.

01/05/2009 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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