Irene C S ClarkHogg
Biography of Irene C S ClarkHogg
I live in the North East of England with my husband, who is also a poet, three cats and two dogs. I have been a writer of poetry and prose for many years and enjoy experimenting with a variety of poetry forms.
Irene C S ClarkHogg's Works:
Perceptions - Poetry & Prose collection
Mother and Son - with Stephen Hall - Poetry
Two I's, Two Hearts One Soul - with Ivor Hogg - Poetry
Elastoplasts and Bluetack - Poetry Collection
Grandma's Family Album - Children's Poetry
Nancy & the Wood Nymphs - Children's story
Ken's Kinder Kebab - Short stories and Poems
The Blue Knight - Short stories and Poems
Irene C S ClarkHogg Poems
“Forsooth maid, ” spake he, “Hear now my true words.” This varlet of a bygone age, This sage, with heathen tongue.
* Geordie Folk
I was born on the banks of the old river Tyne, Where it wends its way east to the sea. Past the pit heaps and coal tugs; the clang of the shipyards Created fond memories for me.
* Tears Of Rain
His love was a raindrop In the lonely desert sand. The place that once was me, Setting me free,
* An Unfortunate Vampire
Johnny was a vampire, One of the ancient breed. Some said, ‘They are born of woman, But spawned by Satan’s seed.’
Holocaust. Iron pipes that pierce the skyline.
A Glossa in honour of William Blake. The Tiger
A Degenerate Mouse Called Arthur
I have a little mouse called Arthur Who gnaws away inside my bones He is armed with sharp incisors And metal claws on all his toes.
A Mother's Gift
A woman gave part of her soul That the being she created could be whole Then having physical and spiritual form As the sun arose a child was born.
Sonnet Cakes Catch a passing flock of words
As a child I dreamed of a fairy wood Where I could visit, as each child should; To learn of elves and castles of light, Where witches brewed spells and flew in the night.
Lead grey skies enfold like shrouds To clothe the rain lashed mountain peaks Birds huddle down with open beaks Protesting to encroaching clouds.
An Elephant Called Esmerelda
This is in answer to Dee's challenge I live near a small village In a large cave beside a stream
The silent screaming of the dreaming Awakens not the mind of man But reaches out to he who travels In the borders between the worlds.
Just Seven Notes
Just Seven Notes. There is nothing new in music
Dancing With The Clouds
And so, within the mind of man,
The cauldron spits.
Then births the sprite
Capable of freedom
From confining earth.
Scattered papers on the floor
A ball of string
To take the strain