Today I am presenting another poem that will be appearing in my new book “UntilEye Eyes Hear Sound”. The ‘Musette’ is also a relatively new poem format for me, (thank you to Ryan, >> https://daysofstone.com/, for introducing me to the Musette format), and “Shadows Fall” is a poem I wrote in February 2023, and it will be an exciting piece in the ‘Others’ section ofChapter 10. Short Poems: Haiku, Senryu, Tanka, and Others
Today I attended the monthly meeting of Geelong’s, Dome Poetry Group, our assignment was to present a ‘Monologue’ and I duly recited my poem “The Voice”. After taking note of the constructive discussion and a few helpful hints, this afternoon I have written a “Revised Version” of the poem. Special thanks to Guenter (Geelong Writers Pres) and my fellow “Dome Poets”. Please note, the original version is attached below
The Voice (a Monologue), Revised
Do not yet shut the doors
But give me leave to speak with you and yours
Do not yet turn away
The time I ask of you is brief for what I have to say
On my “nearby” walking track this morning I happened to spy some “nearby” Dragonflies. … Over at Weekly Prompts, the Weekend Challenge is; Nearby … Please visit their fabulous site by clicking on >> Here .
I am ecstatic that my poem “True”, has been accepted and published in Spillwords Magazine today, and I am very grateful to the editor Dagmara for selecting my piece … Please go over and visit my poem at Spillwords and if you wish, leave a “❤️” for my article, by clicking on this link >> https://spillwords.com/true-by-ivor-steven/
If there is something I could do I would do anything To save you Mother Nature, you are everything I look up to My words are nothing Compared to you You are the orchestrator of things With a balcony view
Ivor Steven was formerly an Industrial Chemist, then a Plumber, now retired. He has had numerous poems published in anthologies, and online magazines. He has 2 self-published books, “Tullawalla” and “Perceptions,” and is an active member of the Geelong Writers Inc. (Australia) and an appointed writer for “Coffee House Writers” magazine (USA).
Today I attended the monthly meeting of Geelong’s, Dome Poetry Group, our assignment was to present a ‘Monologue’ and I duly recited my poem “The Voice”. After some constructive discussion and a few helpful hints, this afternoon I have written a “Revised Version” of the poem. Special thanks to Guenter (Geelong Writers Pres) and my fellow “Dome Poets”. Please note, the original version is attached below
On Saturday, 14 October 2023, Australians will have their say in a referendum about whether to change the Constitution to recognise the First Peoples of Australia by establishing a body called the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Voice. I’ll be voting “Yes”
The Voice (a Monologue), Revised
Do not yet shut the doors
But give me leave to speak with you and yours
Do not yet turn away
The time I ask of you is brief for what I have to say
Today I am presenting another poem that will be appearing in my new book “UntilEyes Hear Sound”. The ‘Limerick’ is also a relatively new poem format for me, and “Who Has the Foggiest” is a poem I wrote in May 2022, and it will be the opening piece in the ‘Other’ section ofChapter 10. Short Poems: Haiku, Senryu, Tanka, and Others
Over at Weekly Prompts, the Wednesday Challenge is. Late Bloomer … today I arose after ‘noon’ and the below Haiku is my appropriate response … please visit their fabulous site by clicking on >> Here …
Lately I have posted a few poems about the futility of war … I’m not very accomplished at writing about the wars of the world, I get far too angry and confused to write something sensible, but this is a rather long poem I wrote about my recollections of the “Gulf War” in 1990.
Return the Bullets
The mind awakens to secret cannons shattering my bed All the violence of the worlds pounding inside my head The killing and the maiming of all the innocents who fled What happens when all the little lambs are slaughtered? When the peoples of all religions and creed are dead And we cannot return the murdering bullets back into the barrel
I am afraid The backyard stairway is far too steep to climb The handrails are way out of reach to find And the public change-room windows are covered with bars Now encircling the city hall, the security backdoor is ajar Entering the marble aisle, the White room appears vacant And guileful leaders have run, leaving a chasm of gloomy dark
I am wandering Where to go, the healing house is full of ugly holes The citizens cowering in shadows behind splintered lighting poles And the crumbling streets are awash with rivers of leftover blood Now the warring bosses have to fight amonst themselves Throwing poison pens and paper darts at each other Niether bruised nor battered, using ivory towers as cover
I am terrified The dusty mushroom cloud slowly settles on the barren ground With sands of distant lands, shifting into every nook and cranny We need the good Doctor, to help us cure these alien scourges And foreigners arriving upon waves of our neighbouring seas The deathly TV images, wrongly implanted for all to see As the press only gossip and drivel with selfish glee
I am stupefied The guns of freedom lands haven’t even stopped the cull Death to friends or foe, no matter, to the rulers from above Their only rules, the poor and weak to be kept totally downtrodden One day the surviving meek shall inherit their radioactive dirt The rich will feast upon their own contaminated bread But will never return the murdering bullets back into the barrel
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 