Throwback Friday, Beyond His Time Here, by Ivor Steven

My poem “Beyond His Time Here”, from September 2018 is up on Throwback Friday at ‘Go Dog Go Cafe’ magazine.

ivor20's avatarGo Dog Go Café

Today’s poem is from September 2018, and I have slightly revised some lines for this post.

Beyond His Time Here(Revised)

words written, during her silent years

dazed and unclear

words written, out of sheer fear

often drowning in tears

words written, softly severe

in everlasting revere

words written, for everyone to hear

reaching a new frontier

words written, clouds beginning to clear

love lingers, far and near

words written, needing someone to steer

this lost buccaneer

beyond his time here

Ivor Steven (c) September 2018

ivor20

G’day, and welcome to my blog site. My name is Ivor Steven, I live in Geelong, Australia. I’m an ex-industrial chemist, and a retired plumber, and a former Carer of my wife(Carole), for 30 years, who suffered from severe MS. I Write poetry about those personal thoughts, throughout and beyond my life as a Carer. I’ve been blogging for over 2 years, and…

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There’s A Crack In My China Soup Bowl

A poem I wrote in October 7th 2018

G’day to my readers here on WordPress, I’m not feeling well, and I’ve not been my usual self in being able to comment on all of your wonderful posts. I’m off to China on Wednesday morning, doing a compact 10 day sight-seeing tour, including the Great Wall of China. Hopefully I’ll be feeling betterer by then. Here’s my poem for today. I’d like to thank Kate of “Calmkate’, for the use of her words, “rank dank muddy waters”, which were basically the inspiration behind my gloomy poem, “There’s a Crack In My China Soup Bowl”, and also thanks to “Stella”, for giving me the idea for the Title of this poem.



There’s A Crack In My China Soup Bowl



My head’s full of black clouds

Drenched by the sky’s contaminated rain

My chest’s full of green slime

Drowned by the valley’s poisoned rivers


My eyes are full of yellow tears

Etched by the lake’s rank dank muddy waters

My heart’s full of grey blood

Permeated by the ocean’s mercury floor


There’s a stench in the air we breathe

How can we possibly leave

Walk up through those old rusty gates

Are we losing the battle, are we too late



Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Dreamless

A poem from a previous bad back month, in December 2019, seems to be appropriate
as I head into the second month of frustrating inactivity … Sorry, readers and followers for my continuing blogging absense …




Dreamless


Tap, tap, feel the back pain again

The drizzling pulse of dreamless rain

Falling on a hard pillow, wet and stained

The misty clouds of sleepless brain


Rivers of visions, once crystal clear

Now flooded fields of dreamless fears

Cascading mirrors, once reflective and sheer

Now broken pools of dreamless tears





Ivor Steven (c)  Dec 2019