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.

Street Art, The Other Half

In response to Weekly Prompt; Photo Prompt, The Other Half (I went to a different half), and also, in response to CalmKate’s Friday Foto Fun, the prompt,  Art

The featured Image above, was after I’d walk around the city centre of Geelong taking all of these photos,.. I had to have refreshments, and the best place seemed to be Pistol Pete’s Blues Bar, with loud music, tasty food and a cold beer or two.

 

 

 

 

 

 

For those followers of Australian Rock Music, the above mural is of Chrissy Amphlett,  she was a Geelong girl, and lead singer of the Divinyls, one of our great bands during the 1980’s and 1990’s

 

 

 

Cloudy Visions

I’m trying to write myself a Mission Statement

Feels like a speech I need to practice in the basement

I’ve never been good at making speeches

They’re messy, like eating mushy soft peaches

 

When I first began writing poetry

My main aim was to teach myself to read and write again

Eighteen years ago this month, I suffered a Stroke

Times become tough, depression drowned this bloke

 

Poetry became my form of self therapy

I listened to music and inspirational lyrics

Leonard Cohen’s songs were always playing

I fervently keep writing

 

My life became a routine, centered around love

The love of caring for my wife, her MS was severe

Writing was my retreat, a place of solace

My world was narrow, I was skating on thin ice

 

Six years ago my wife did pass

My heart turned to water on glass

Then I heard Leonard singing again

His music and words were not in vain

 

I resumed writing my poems

Grieving, words were sad and solemn

Healing takes time

Soulfully I wrote more rhyme

 

I joined local writers groups

My words were out there, under readers boots

On a prompt, I started a website fifteen months ago

My confidence grew, I came in from the snow

 

Wondering what’s my goal, where do I go

There’s many answers I do not know

In the future, I believe a poetry book or two

I’ve volumes of poems, enough to fill my shoes

 

This is my story

My life’s journey

Of cloudy visions

My words, my mission

I used to care about tomorrow’s endings

Now I care about today’s beginnings.

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Tunnel Echos

I’m lying here on the floor, prone again

Pining in vain

Listening to Leonard’s ballads again

Flooding my soul in rain

There’s happy dreams

And shattered dreams

All flying by

Passing under yesterday’s indoor sky

Here today, where’s tomorrow

Drifting through clouds of sorrow

 

My tunnel visions are echoing

Like rusty train wheels, loudly resonating

I’m my old verandah door, swinging

Badly hinged, my feelings are hanging

Knowing I’m a lonely alien widower

Untouchable, like a Hindu follower

Caresses by wandering hands, shunned and cropped

Wondering why my foreign heart suddenly stopped.

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Don’t Ask Me Why

I read a glorious article by Gina of Singledust this morning, please do go over and have a read, Click >> HERE. Thanks to Gina, her lovely “Letter”, prompted me into remembering this old poem, that’s been hidden away in my archives, and that’s the reason “why” I’m posting these words today.

Unknowingly, I often dream of her serene ashen face

Years ago, I gently held her frailty in my tired arms

Softly whispering to her, last words of love and grace

Don’t ask me why, I count the days, since I’ve missed her charms

I cannot give you a sensible nor plausible answer

Don’t ask my why, I count the weeks, since I lost my way

I’m unable to fathom the depths of my inner cancer

Don’t ask me why, I count the months, since she died that day

Because I’m still gradually recovering

Remembering she’ll never ever go away

And somehow, I’m steadily rediscovering

Knowing someday, I’ll be allowed to stay

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

They Were Singing My Song

Weekly Prompt: This weeks Word Prompt; Germs

 

There’s festering germs in my brain

The hallucination seems real

Last night I went to a funeral

The funeral was mine

 

Attending the wake

In the forest beside the lake

I was a mental mess

Walking around, dressed in my finest

A plastic name-tag tied to my thong

They were singing my song

 

Alone, I trekked through botanical gardens

Heading towards the big game

Couldn’t remember who was playing

Does it even matter

I was too busy dictating

My last will and testament

To any-one who would listen

Telling the young ones, not to worry

“Uncle Ivor will look after you, we all belong”

They were singing my song

 

There wasn’t a church

More like the Football Club hall

Big enough to hold them all

Ample food and gallons to drink

Leonard was there all along

He was singing my song

 

There was no Hallelujah

Making it write, knew the words

A Tennessee man played the drums

Every foot was tapping to the beat

The beat goes on, and on

They were singing my song

 

The music resonated into my art gallery

Organised to humour the goddess

The local switchboard was frantic, like a chatter blog

Announcing a wake, under the stars

Celestial, stellar, and beyond

They were singing my song

 

Lemons adorned the tables

Soul gifts, smelling fresh as hell

Too fiery there, I wasn’t allowed to dwell

The crowd was giving me the cold shoulder

I was talking to myself in Antarctica

Overhearing the laughter, rejoicing in my coldness

They were singing my song

One of us cannot be wrong

 

I’d like to thank the following, fellow friends/bloggers, for attending my dream-time wake, as per my dream, in order of  appearance.

1. Mental Mess

2. DoesItEvenMatter

3. Making It Write

4. The Tennessee Poet

5. Humouring The Goddess

6. Chatter Blog

7. Stella

8. Lemon

9. Soul Gifts

10. Fresh Hell

11. Fiery

12. Talking To Myself

And of course, Leonard Cohen, for his glorious music and Lyrics.

 

And here is my poem, “It’s Just A Little Dream”

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2017/12/18/its-just-a-little-dream-2/

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

Tullawalla And A Dragonfly

Weekly Prompt: Photo prompt for this week, Right Place Right Time

I’m presenting pictures here of “My Home”, and feeling incredibly fortunate, that I happened to be in the right place at the right time, two years ago, when I was lucky enough to find this little abode for sale. And on inspection I immediately feel in love with the place, knowing that this is where my soul could finally be at peace, and I came to engross myself in this writers haven that I had dreamt of, and knowing that it was now going to become a reality. Thank you to Linda, of Spiritual Dragonfly, for inspiring to do this post about “My Place”, and I hope all is well there for Linda over in Carolina, after coping with Hurricane Florence.

 

Above, my verandah area, my gallery, and where the old family home name, “Tullawalla” sign,  is now proudly on display.

 

Above, My fernery, my garden courtyard, and more of my verandah gallery.

 

Above. More of my gallery under the verandah, and my barbeque and my outdoor speakers, which are wired back to my computer sound system, I hope the neighbours appreciate my music choices

 

Above. My home, front view, window garden bed and my garage. The writers bedroom and studio/desk area, is where all the poems are written. And attached below a lovely song from Xavier Rudd… “Home”

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

 

 

 

 

Purple Tomatoe Ferns

I’ve visions of Vikings sailing in the cold

Plundering distant hearts and pilfering gold

 

I’m dreaming of the old farmer’s wife

Milking cows, cleaning and baking for life

 

I’ve feelings for the king, in his isolated castle

Looking forlornly upon his drawbridge, a foodless trestle

 

I’m wandering through an empty paddock

Kicking dew off the grass, searching for a lovers locket

 

I’ve plans for the planets desolate future

Growing purple tomatoe ferns until they’re mature

 

I’m following her brave journey’s every mile

Climbing over dying garden beds and rotting fence stiles

 

I’ve finished falling under broken skies

Claiming peace amongst tomorrows butterflies

 

It’ll Be Alright In The Long Run

I’m going to bed soon, I’ve been battling, fighting, struggling, with my computer all day, and finally, hopefully, that the cyber-space gods are with me, and that my computer might be going again in the morning. Time will tell, I’m sure “It’ll Be Alright In The Long Run”… Redgum. I hope you enjoy their song and lyrics

Redgum: The Long Run, – Lyrics

Oh You look out your window at the cold grey dawn
It’s seven o’clock on a Monday morning
Pour a cup of coffee, better make it a strong one
Weather man on the radio says
It’s going to rain and it’s going to blow
It’ll be all right, it’ll be all right
It’ll be all right in the long run
Australia marched out of Vietnam
Out on the streets against Uncle Sam,
We won the fight, it was a long one
Uranium demo the other day
One of my mates got dragged away
As they slammed the door I heard her say
It’ll be all right in the long run
Italian bloke who works with me
And we swap laughs and company
And he slapped me on the back
Said “Your wrong, son
This isn’t the land I was told it would be
It’s not so equal and not so free”
It’ll be all right, it’ll be all right
It’ll be all right in the long run
It’ll be all right, it’ll be all right
It’ll be all right in the long run
It’ll be all right, it’ll be all right
It’ll be all right in the long run
It’ll be all right, it’ll be all right

It’ll be all right in the long run
It’ll be all right, it’ll be all right
It’ll be all right in the long run
It’ll be all right, it’ll be all right
It’ll be all right in the long run
From the shadow of history a convict screams
The shearers curse, the people dream
We’ve taken some right turns
They’ve been the wrong ones
Troop ships leave and the headlines blaze
Australia remembers happier days
Faith lives on within the haze
It’ll be all right in the long run
So you sit in your camp and you stare at the fire
The doubts drop away as the hopes get higher
And you sing to yourself
It’ll be all right
It’ll be all right in the long run
And the sun gives ground to a long cold night
Screw your courage for another night
But you know in your heart
It’ll be all right
It’ll be all right in the long run
And the sun streams in with power and might
And you look at your kids in a different light
And you know in your heart as you kiss them goodnight
It’ll be all right in the long run

This song is from the album “Caught In The Act” and “Virgin Ground”.

 

I’m Back On Top Of The Hill

Hi dear friends, I’m trying to answer the photo prompt/challenge from Weekly Prompts. this new computer set-up isn’t going too well, but please don’t tell my brother, who came down from Black Hill in Ballarat and spent 4 hours on my computer trying to set-up all the appts for me

, and really he’s done a wonderful job. So from my high up on my perch here on top of Bell Post, I shall post these lovely pic’s of Geelong’s  Botanical Gardens that I took on Tuesday, which is on top of a hill in the Eastern Gardens over looking our picturesque Corio Bay.

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018