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.

Haiku. A Flower Gone

This haiku was a very sad piece for me to write. Personally, the words are an ode/tribute to our grandniece, Georgia, who was only 20…… Please, I’m ok, I’m wishing my words are appropriately good enough for the poor child lost….

A Flower Gone

In a sea of lights

She, an unpicked bloom, wilted

Young and fresh, now gone

Ivor Steven (c) 2018

My Isolation Whiteboard

I suppose you could call this post a “black and white comparison piece of writing”. This week’s, weekly photo prompt: Comparison

Dear readers for the last 5 days of my 2 weeks(so far) hospital stay, I’ve been in isolation, and to help me fill in my singular time here I’ve been using a large whiteboard to write my poems on, and I’ve been writing a poem or Haiku everyday, and of course, my whiteboard is now full. Hopefully this is a sign!!, and it’s nearly time for me to go home. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the process, both physically and mentally, and everyone around me has appreciated my writings, my nurses, doctors, attendants, administrative staff, and all my visitor’s, have all come in and had a read of my whiteboard over these day’s. I don’t think this isolation room has seen the likes of a plumber/poet before, and the buzzing atmosphere of expectation, in room 5 on level seven, has made it a pleasant place to be..

Ivor Steven (c) 2018

Day Lily And Love

I’m going for a procedure this morning, a bronchoscopy, an examination of my lungs. Hopefully they’ll have some good results for me, and I’m able to go home soon, so I can tend to my Day Lily.

Upon my pillow I sleep

Good morning, I do peek

From the cushion of my dreams

A pads radiating beams

Blushing red hues, oh so bright

You bloom during the night

After cuddling the dew

You open up your scenic view.

Flowering, standing proud and steep

Perfection at my feet

A glorious Lily, like wings of a dove

And by Day you air your love

Ivor Steven (c) 2018.

Isolation Time

I’ve been hidden away

Out of sight

Out of harm’s way

Locked in my room

A poet Pharaoh’s tomb

Or a butterfly’s cocoon

There’s a shining light in my bubble

On top of all my rubble

Above the deathly quietness

I’m a lonesome chick in his nest

Or a bear with a sore head

Hibernating in his bed

Tucked away for winter

Living in an Eskimo’s igloo

Day after day, I’m wearing old

Isolation my saviour, from the cold

Ivor Steven (c) 2018

“Villanelle For Our Time”

“Villanelle For Our Time”
Dear readers, if you are inclined, please read this magnificent piece, written by Leonard Cohen, a truly inspiring poem, displaying all of his brilliant craftsmanship.

From bitter searching of the heart,
Quickened with passion and with pain
We rise to play a greater part.
This is the faith from which we start:
Men shall know commonwealth again
From bitter searching of the heart.
We loved the easy and the smart,
But now, with keener hand and brain,
We rise to play a greater part.
The lesser loyalties depart,
And neither race nor creed remain
From bitter searching of the heart.
Not steering by the venal chart
That tricked the mass for private gain,
We rise to play a greater part.
Reshaping narrow law and art
Whose symbols are the millions slain,
From bitter searching of the heart
We rise to play a greater part.

Lines To Nowhere

My curtains were opened

I saw a setting eclipse

And I decided to walk

To the south side of the moon

Taking my own spoon

I heard there’s a cheese-cake tasting

A sweet crumbly base

Topped with blueberries and cream

Life’s not about lying in bed

I’ll meet you for a kiss

After school

Down by the old pool

Ivor Steven (c) 2018