In one way or another
After leaving our mothers
Life delivers us to love and pain
While dancing in the rain
Ivor Steven © September 2022
In one way or another
After leaving our mothers
Life delivers us to love and pain
While dancing in the rain
Ivor Steven © September 2022
My poem “Beyond His Time Here”, from September 2018 is up on Throwback Friday at ‘Go Dog Go Cafe’ magazine.

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
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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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
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