Museum

I dreamt of her serenity

I gently held her frailty

I whispered calmly

words of love and grace

unable to fathom

her living museum

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

My Latest Micro-Chapbook, ONLY THIS, is Available Via Free Download

Hi To All My Wonderful Readers.
Please visit Robert Okaji’s site here, he’s an extraordinary poet, and especially this post/article of his, which I found both very interesting and FUN. Download his incredible MicroChap Book “Only This”, and do have a go at the “origami” of making his book, I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the outcome !! And enjoy the read ..

robert okaji's avatarO at the Edges

My latest micro-chapbook, Only This,  is available via free download from Origami Poems Project. Many thanks to editor Jan Keough for taking this!

Find folding hints here.

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CANDICE LOUISA DAQUIN

Poems by Candice Daquin, of TheFeatheredSleep, are always thought provoking, and I’m pleased to recommended her works to all my readers.

braveandrecklessblog's avatarIndie Blu(e) Publishing

candice daquin

Daquin’s own life, traveling from her native France, via England, Canada and finally the US, has brought a myriad of experiences that others have often been able to tap into via her writing. A collection of lives really, and with this, she tries to weave greater meaning through poetry and touch those who experience similar questions, doubts, and hopes. Surely this is what writing attempts in its very human form?

Daquin’s themes include feminism in its complex, everyday form, and the experience of being a woman, a gay woman, a bi-racial woman, a bi-cultural woman and finally, a Jewish woman of Egyptian extraction (Mizrahi) and how this sits with the world’s current revolt between the dominant faiths.

“I have been told from readers of my published and non-published works that reading poetry which resonates with your emotions, helps you see things clearer, assists in remembering what really matters and enables you…

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Tit Bits #6

After self-destruction

There’s a resurrection

After the Fall

There’s winter and spring

After the blossom

There’s fruit to eat

After last years rotting cores

They’re the trees nourishment

…….

Understanding our time

Is no easy rhyme

…….

True love is hard to find

When found be very kind

Love can break your spine

And blow away your mind

…….

Ah, and this one is for my dear friend Walt.

Horse manure and ashes of Walt

Magic mushrooms could result

Mischief and joy amongst the peat

A reincarnation you’ll be, barking on four feet.

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

May Day

Thursday morning, a chilly May day,

Six years since our gracious lady passed away.

tumbling in, memories hit me

but fears not beat me

Clouds of the past cover me

but tears not flood me

 

At my old writing desk, all in disarray

wondering would she approve of me this way

regretful feelings within me

but fears not consume me

shadows of the future haunt me

but tears not drown me.

“How many rivers of tears must we cry

before all the deepest wells run dry”

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Ivor Steven: Pumpkin Soup Again

A big Slurpy Thank You to Slasher Monster Magazine for publishing “Pumpkin Soup Again”, in their fabulous magazine, please go over and visit the site.

Dead Donovan's avatarSlasherMonster Magazine

Head’s falling like an unpinned grenade.

Soon ready to explode.

Burying shrapnel pieces in corners of shade.

Scattered like broken retina globes.

Razor blades shredding memory lockets.

Slivered icicles inside blurry sockets.

Needles of pain.

Sheets of sleet before the rain.

Bloodied eyeball tracks like meteor trails.

And the pain-numbing capsules do fail.

Oh please, blindly needing to set sail.

Upon swirling Oceans, like Homer’s tales.

Wanna read more poetry? Subscribe to Ivor Steven!

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Tit Bits #5

The air I breath

Purifying within

free to leave

free as the wind

…….

I wonder at nature’s freshness

early in the morning

we take her for granted

our perennial mother earth

nurturing a new start to every day

I wish our mankind could

begin afresh like her

…….

Searches are many

answers unfound

mirrors our insanity

until eyes hear sound

…….

They may steal my words

with their poison pens

but they’ll never be able

to copy my heart

nor retrieve my soul

……

Time is on my side of the door

a knock, a chat, wine and more

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

 

He Was There, Back Then

Let me tell you how it is

It’s like this you see

*he sounded like the truth,

I know he’s not the truth today*

He was there

back then

I saw with my own eyes

Let me tell you how it is

It’s like this you see

…….

I’m here now

Toot toot” I do stay

come out to me

don’t worry

I’ll never come in and see

you with your disability

I’ll hide behind my wheel 

here in fear

I don’t want to feel

your loving smile

nor your gentle tears

…….

Let me tell you how it is

It’s like this you see

*He sounded like the truth

I know he’s not the truth today*

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

*These two lines* bear similarities of the two lines taken from Leonard Cohen’s song, It Seemed The Better Way.

“Sounded like the truth

But it’s not the truth today”

 

 

To All My Friends A Sincere Thank You

To Celebrate this wondrous occurrence, we shall play a Leonard Cohen song/poem (Of course). I’ve been blogging for only 10 months, and it’s all quite unbelievable for this little Plumber/Poet from Geelong. Thank you, one and all. 

And as an added bonus, I’ve also achieved the grand sum of 200 posts, Oh, and how appropriate it be with a posting of a Leonard Cohen song, I’m truly humbled.

post-milestone-200-2x

Teachers, Lyrics. By Leonard Cohen

I met a woman long ago  her hair the black that black can go,  Are you a teacher of the heart?  Soft she answered no.  I met a girl across the sea,  her hair the gold that gold can be,  Are you a teacher of the heart?  Yes, but not for thee.  I met a man who lost his mind  in some lost place I had to find,  follow me the wise man said,  but he walked behind.  I walked into a hospital  where none was sick and none was well,  when at night the nurses left  I could not walk at all.  Morning came and then came noon,  dinner time a scalpel blade  lay beside my silver spoon.  Some girls wander by mistake  into the mess that scalpels make.  Are you the teachers of my heart?  We teach old hearts to break.  One morning I woke up alone,  the hospital and the nurses gone.  Have I carved enough my Lord?  Child, you are a bone.  I ate and ate and ate,  no I did not miss a plate, well  How much do these suppers cost?  We’ll take it out in hate.  I spent my hatred everyplace,  on every work on every face,  someone gave me wishes  and I wished for an embrace.  Several girls embraced me, then  I was embraced by men,  Is my passion perfect?  No, do it once again.  I was handsome I was strong,  I knew the words of every song.  Did my singing please you?  No, the words you sang were wrong.  Who is it whom I address,  who takes down what I confess?  Are you the teachers of my heart?  We teach old hearts to rest.  Oh teachers are my lessons done?  I cannot do another one.  They laughed and laughed and said, Well child,  are your lessons done?  are your lessons done?  are your lessons done?
From Ivor, Geelong , Australia. Cheers To Everyone……