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Best Poems Written by Ivor Hogg

Below are the all-time best Ivor Hogg poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Freelance Contractor

Freelance contractor

I’ve been a ghost for centuries.
Qualified by experience.
No diplomas or degrees
 but plenty of self confidence.

  Although I died quite suddenly.
Beheading does not take too long
I just accepted readily
the choice of sides I made was wrong.

I lived my life as best I could
 like other men I made mistakes.
 And did not do the things I should
 One wrong decision all it takes.

 Although a failure as a man.
 I am a most successful ghost
 I do the very best I can
 Although I am not one to boast.

I take a pride in what I do
 I can appear and disappear
(I’m one of the accomplished few)
 to fill a humans heart with fear.

I’ve haunted stately homes with pride
I’ve walked abroad without my head
Through solid walls I quickly glide
 I am enjoying being dead.

Alive I earned but small respect
 in fact nobody noticed me.
But now in my ghostly aspect.
 I’m treated most respectfully. 

 Some day I know I must move on
 but I can feel no urgency.
Although my dearest friends have gone.
 A ghost is all I want to be.

I’ve been a ghost for centuries.
I find it suits me very well.
I do exactly as I please
The skills I have I freely sell.

26-Oct-07

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Unending Patience

The desert lies beneath the sun.
The sand dunes sculpted by the wind
 semi permanent but each one
 moves stealthily as you will find.

They move on imperceptibly
 and change the contours of the land
You can’t be sure where they will be.
This travellers must understand.

If not then they will surely die.
The desert is a hostile place
 but sadly foolish men still try
They disappear and leave no trace.

The desert keeps its secrets well
 it knows their fate but will not tell.

They say whole armies have been lost.
Who’s bones still lie beneath the sand, 
their families left to bear the cost
The toll the desert can demand.

And travellers still die today
 despite their high technology.
They cannot always find their way
 amidst the ever changing sea

of sand dunes moving fluidly
The desert still demands its dues.
 As it has done historically
 the desert wins it cannot lose.

Beneath the sun the desert lies
 accepting each new sacrifice.

13-Oct-07

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Summer Nights Delight

Summer nights delight.

The sable cloak of night is sown
With a beauty which is shown
By a myriad points of light.
Which show against the dark of night


A background certain to enhance
Selena mistress of romance
As she observes young lovers dreams
She blesses them with soft moon beams.

Although the moon is permanent
Young love is often transient
But for tonight the moon will do.
Her best to make your dreams come true.

The sable cloak of night conceals
What the morning sun reveals
Feelings engendered by the moon
Can fade away alas too soon.

Thursday, 19 January 2012
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Details | Ivor Hogg Poem

An Ideal State

An ideal state?

The brazen blare of trumpets sounds.
As we approach the temple grounds
the rattling kettle drums compete
 with ominously marching feet.

The people gather here today
 in the old time honoured way. 
To hear our leaders justify
 why they have failed to satisfy.

The peoples wants, the peoples needs.
Explain their actions and their deeds
The leaders have no other choice
 but hearken to the peoples voice.

If they have failed without just cause.
The peoples justice will enforce
 summary execution.
A permanent solution.

  For politicians who have lied
by all their fellows they are tried.
Allowed to mount their own defence
 they must depend on eloquence.

We listen to their argument
 and we consider their intent.
Their motives are what we must judge
This is no time for them to fudge.

They ruled as triumvirate
 and so they must anticipate.
If one is guilty then all three
Will suffer the same penalty.

  If we adjudge them innocent
 by a unanimous consent.
They can retire honourably
having served us honestly.


We the people make the rules
 elect the leaders as our tools.
To do as we instruct them to
They do not rule the peopled do.

If we decide they are corrupt.
The peoples anger will erupt.
For them there can be no appeal
 it was their choice to cheat and steal.

An object lesson plain to see
for those who aspire to be.
Part of the next triumvirate
Chosen to serve our city state.

Ours is a true democracy 
where every citizen is free.
 To stand for office or refrain.
 Those who have served may serve again.

But every two years they must face
 the peoples judgement of their case.
Honest men need have no fear
 dishonest men just disappear.

Stripped of  all their ill gotten wealth 
 which they aquired by craft and stealth.
They pay the final penalty
 they’re put to death immediately.

The peoples will is sovereign
Offenders will not sin again
This is a dream I’m sad to say
 and not true of our world today.

Today our world is ruled by greed.
Use any method to succeed.
 rewarded for dishonesty.
The people pay the penalty.

19-Oct-07

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Quiet Departure

Quiet departure.  Tissue warning

Her life was drawing to its end.
She was content, although she knew
She will greet death as an old friend
Who will soon come to her rescue.
Death will provide the final cure.
Relieve her of her agonies
Which cancer forced to endure
 and grant her merciful release.
She slipped away before the dawn
Still with the smile that she had worn.
To lull us in to thinking she.
For once was resting peacefully.
She knew her old friend death would come
To take her hand and lead her home.

Sunday, 22 January 2012
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Details | Ivor Hogg Poem

Drifting and Dreaming

In a secluded forest glade
 the interplay of light and shade,
 as sunlight filters through the trees.
 Gives rise to pleasant fantasies.
The muted light has qualities 
which redefine realities
I’m half convinced that I must be 
submerged beneath a sunlit sea.
Here somnolent as in a trance
I watch the mermaids stately dance
 a sight which fills me with delight
I know it’s just a trick of light.
But I don’t care I’m happy there.
Reality cannot compare.

9-Oct-07

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China Doll

China doll.

I have a little china doll, a figurine,
she stands in pride of place on my bookcase.
Sometimes from the corner of my eye,
I think that I can see her cry. I wonder why.

But when I look to check what I have seen,
her painted smile is fixed serene
and then she winks at me.
Can this be the start of some odd malady?

She sometimes gives a quiet sob, that I
seem to hear with my ear. Really queer
I don’t believe that I’m insane. But why
should I imagine such strange things? Oh dear,

She has just stuck out her tongue at me
and smiled a wicked little grin. How odd
I’ve had her for years, What can she see
in me she hasn’t seen before. I nod


involuntarily,.She lifts her skirt
and starts to flirt with me ,shamelessly.
Perhaps she has been unhappy for a while
and wants me to make her smile. It might be







a figment of my imagination
or  is this actually happening.,
Maybe it’s only a sublimation
of the pain I feel. She starts to  sing.

an aria from Madame Butterfly.
This is absurd. Her voice is very clear
the sad wistful longing makes me cry.
I wish that she was real and she was here.

She would make my loneliness disappear
and we could join in wanton dance. And drink
Champagne, eat caviar. But you my dear
are just my little china doll I THINK.

Details | Ivor Hogg Poem

Illusions

Illusions

Reflections from rain washed pavements
 perform their own experiments.
The red tail lights of passing cars
 become a myriad crimson stars. 
The gaudy hues of neon lights
 break down into component parts
 which swirl and change then re unite
Impressionistic modern arts.
Which when disturbed by passing feet 
can quickly change and re arrange 
	into new patterns which compete.	
Producing effects rare and strange.
But few see this phenomenon
 which briefly shows, as quickly gone.

26-Oct-07

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Am I Prejudiced?

Am I prejudiced?

I am a slave to poetry.

I do not wish to be set free
a willing prisoner happily.

Constrained  by strict parameters.
 Which form the rules for formal verse,
to discipline I’m not averse.

Though modernists all claim to be
 Poets. I find I can’t agree.
Their work has small appeal for me.
I can’t commit to memory 

One single piece of free form verse.
In my opinion even worse
 they are deliberately perverse.

Delighting in obscurity
 contemptuous of clarity.

Yet still they claim it’s poetry.

9-Oct-07

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Auf Weidersehen

Auf weidersehen

The autumn frosts strike suddenly
 and blight the last remaining few.
Sweet peas which have so cheerfully
 improved my outlook and my view.
I’m very sad to see them go.
It seems unfair that they must die 
although deep inside I know
 they must: I know the reason why.
They have put on their bravest show
 and stored their images inside
 their seeds. Which will next season grow 
and spread their offspring far and wide.
Although I’m sad I can still smile
 I’ll only miss them for a while.

13-Oct-07