Author: 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 writing poems for 19 years. Of course a lot of my poems are about my favourite subject Carole, but since I've been blogging my writings have become quite varied, humourous, mystical, observational, and even a few monster/horror poems.

Hallelujah, A Song He Played For Me

 

Hallelujah, A Song He Played For Me (Thanks Terry)

I’m relaxing here in the city square

Enjoying the simple things in life

Eating fresh fruit for lunch

Feeding the local seagulls

Watching people, passing by, going to and fro

Not everyone is stopping to see the show

Listening to my friend playing the blues

At this chilly outdoor venue

There’s others too, lazing on the wet ground

Soaking up his musical sounds

Guitar strumming, and a loud tenor voice

He’s singing Leonard’s Hallelujah, my choice

I’m emotional, but that’s me

Resting here under a winter tree

Gentle drops of rain, drizzle upon the calm

But that doesn’t dampen his enthusiasm or charm

Syd and Shirley seagull stand entranced

And the young ones are starting to dance

Ivor Steven (c) June 2019

Violin Strings

Hello dear readers/followers, I’ve not taken much notice, but it seems I’ve been blogging here on WordPress for TWO years…. To celebrate the occasion, I’m re-posting one of my original poems from June/July 2017…..

Violin Strings

 

I’m singing a song, all about you.

Singing words, both sincere and true.

From my heart to my soul, the veins,

They’re as tight as violin strings.

 

I needed you, to take my hand.

Take my hand, and show me the way.

Show me the way, into a formal debut.

Show me the way, into your dancing shoes.

 

I needed you, to take my dreams.

Take my dreams, and show me how to behave.

Show me the way, into your family home.

Show me the way, into your holy grail.

 

I needed you, to take my open heart.

Take my heart, and show me how to pray.

Show me the way, into your little world.

Show me the way, into your milky-way.

 

I needed you, to take my old violin.

Take my violin, and show me how to play.

Show me the way, into your harp strings.

Show me the way, into all your tunes.

 

In finality, you unpicked the strings.

And you plucked my soul.

A broken violin.

And twisted strings.

 

Ivor Steven.

It Was On The Tip Of My Tongue

I awoke unexpectedly

Suddenly the mind had kicked in

My cogs were grinding and searching

Seeking that lost memory inside me head

That annoying buzz has been bugging me

Teasing me about that location

That place I couldn’t remember

The name was on the tip of my tongue yesterday*

 

But recalling that name had eluded me

Three o’clock in the morning

My eyes are wide open

Old cloudy visions, are now clearing

Up there, in bright neon lights

Of course, that’s the missing name

And my brain is not dead

Answer solved, back to sleep for my head

 

  • * The name that was on the tip of my tongue was a place in Philadelphia, called the Reading Terminal Market, I’ll attach a Link here
  •  https://readingterminalmarket.org/

 

Iver Steven (c)  June 2019

Birds Of A Feather

The Midweek Word Prompt is : Humour  . Here, I’ve attempted a piece of sarcastic humour, in my poem about, the human’s unusual skin pigments.

And a big thank you To V.J. Knutson, with her poem “Even Colourless, Still A Flower”, being the source of my inspiration behind my poem today

Birds Of A Feather

 

to colour us all tanned

black or white

didn’t seem right

even a humorous sight

maybe blue and green

would’ve been a better blight

and I’ve been told orange

is a preferred skin tone

best we have more colours

I’ll go buy the paint drums

toss them together

shaken, not stirred

into one huge cocktail dish

and use a whale-hair paint brush

we’ll all be covered the same

a faded colour purple

like tarnished rain clouds

not too dark

not too proud

not too white

just bright enough

to see the light

 

Please Note: The featured image above, is called ‘Four Birds’, by an Australian artist, Patsy Anguburra Lulpunda, at the Aboriginal Art Gallery

 

Ivor Steven (c)  June 2019

This Is What Matters

My Thursday evenings, are a boys night out

As usual, we drank and chattered

Opinions on every general topic

No politics nor religion

We talk about important issues

Mainly, travel, music and sports

Lively banter, of who’s who

Any, this and thats

We know what matters

And how to save a world in tatters

 

Then I was asked about my trip

My adventures in New York

And the meeting of my cousins and their families

In the warmth of Philadelphia

Fondly, I mentioned my time there

With cousins Ken, Maureen and Terry

And of course, my special niece, Kerri

I explained how they thoroughly spoilt me

I said “Truly the best time of my life”

Slowly tears welled in my eyes

And my friends, saw the liquid joy in my heart

 

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2019

 

Tullawalla # 10, Dreams Of The Heart

Hello dear friends, readers and followers, again thank you all for being so supportive of my writings. Today, I’m Proud to say I’ve finished compiling my tenth Tullawalla Booklet of my Poems. I’m extremely happy with the standard of my poems in the booklet. I suppose my healthy recovery from my two Strokes, in December and January, and my subsequent glorious visit to see my loving cousins in Philadelphia,  led to the overall joyful tone in my poems…. Again if you would like to purchase my booklet “Tullawalla, Dreams Of The Heart” please contact me through my site here, and we’ll arrange payment and delivery after making contact, and all donations I receive, go to the MS Charity shop, here in Geelong. You could search for me in Facebook/Messenger, via, Ivor Steven, Rollins Rd, Bell Post Hill, Victoria, Australia. …

Below, a few photos of some pages in the Booklet

And also, what I consider my best piece of writing I’ve done for a long time

Haiku: We Lost The Sea 

Bridges of dreams crossed

The ocean and river spanned

Waters of love found

 

 

 

“Change Of Heart” Neil Young .. Lyrics

Talk to the people
They know the truth
Time don’t mean nothing
It’s the ways that you choose
To go on living inside your house
Or move a mountain, an elephant or a mouse
Instead of stayin and dying inside
Sometimes you move
Sometimes you ride awayDon’t tell no stories
Don’t tell no lies
Not even the ones you already tried
Not proud of lies
Nothing is saved
Just a road to nowhere, your name engraved
They pick up on you
As you pick up on them
Just cause they’re birds don’t mean you can’t fly
So don’t be sorry
The pastor touched my hand
Hear on the church steps
I was 9 or 10I had a change of heart
Was a change of heart
A change of heart

Life is confusing
Love is time bent
Hate is not worth using
Even as cement
To build your walls
That you hide behind
And not see over and it blows your mind
There’s hate there now
That never was
Love is waiting just because of you cause

There’s nothing sacred
A blind man said
I see your feelings inside my head
I can’t predict it, what happens next
I love a future I don’t expect
You fortune tellers
You take my hand
See what’s there, it shifts in sands

I had a change of heart
It was a change of heart
Just a change of heart

I was the ocean
Washed up here
I’m you’re emotions
I’m your fresh beard
So drink me up and laugh away
And let’s all continue another day
Maybe tomorrow our ship will come int
And we’ll set the sails for oblivion
Not so fast
Let’s not give up
Let’s not be angry
And spill the cup
Well I’m still drinking
And I’m feeling so high
My eyes are water now, let’s give it a try
Come on baby, I’m ready to rock
Give me all you’ve got
And then let’s talk

It’s a change of heart
I had a change of heart
Just a change of heart

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2019

Warm Champagne And Icy Ponds

I stand here, in a rain filled pond

Leaning against the icy wind

Glazed eyes and I shiver

My boots are stuck in the muddy river

Ankle deep, in a chilly slush

Sheet ice numbing my toes

When will they finish my lane

Tired of walking through cold drains

The tadpoles are thriving again

Multiplying with the continual rain

My clothes are wet and stained

Walking beyond the puddles is a strain

These house-bound reins feel like chains

It’s time to defrost my frozen brain

Allow my pen to write within this frigid membrane

And tell the world, about life’s warm champagne

Ivor Steven (c) 2019

Dallas

 

The name Dallas

Hangs proudly under my verandah

The name of our old family house

There’s only us cousins, who are left

We’re unsure as to where Dallas first came from

We do know that Dallas

Was uncle John’s middle name

But where did the name originate

It’s a family mystery to us now

There’s no other mention, anywhere in our family history

And the name has not been used again

The name Dallas, shall now remain

Hanging under my verandah

As a silent memorial to uncle John

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2019