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.

My Girl’s Haircut

Little Lily’s going to be 13 in November, so she had a birthday haircut today, ready for her big birthday bash, although Lily didn’t seem to be that happy with her new hair-style after I got her home for these photo takes .. And for those that haven’t seen or read my little poem about “My Girl”, here you are….

My Girl

She’s a constant joy.

Tiny like a toy.

She leaps and prances.

Does hind leg dances.

She slips and slides.

Does tummy glides.

She lays on all laps.

Loves all-day pats.

She’s a mirror of love.

Knowingly, from above.

 

Ivor Steven.

Tea Leaf’s

It’s early morn, on this lazy Saturday.

And I’m going to enjoy a relaxing day.

But first, I must make my bed.

“Yes, just like Mum said”

Oh, I gratefully do remember.

As I straighten the colourful quilt cover.

That gift from my previous lover.

And I like to fluff-up my pillows.

Ready for tonight’s wondrous dreams.

Revisiting plenty of stupid cupid’s arrows.

 

I’ve a long, handy bedhead shelf.

It’s always untidily in disarray.

However I’m smiling, satisfied within myself.

Last nights scribbles are all on display.

I gather up this multitude of loose words.

Sorting the jumbled mess into phrases.

Snippets of my subconscious memories.

Pieces of forgotten wistful dreams.

Then I begin to decode my productive sight.

And happily I start to rewrite.

About the tea-leaf’s floating on a calm sea.

Forming love letters, from her to me.

 

Ivor Steven.

Poetry Reading: A Single Atom, by Ivor Steven

Sincere thanks to “Poetry Festival”, for firstly publishing my poem, “A Single Atom”, and now, also for this lovely reading of my poem. I hope you all enjoy the poem reading as much as I did, Cheers. My Friends.

poetryfest's avatarPOETRY FESTIVAL. Submit to site for FREE. Submit for actor performance. Submit poem to be made into film.

Performed by Elizabeth Rose Morriss

Get to know the poet:

  What is the theme of your poem?

The poem is about my turmoil of thoughts and doubts, between my recently departed wife, and my starting up of a new relationship.

What motivated you to write this poem?

Lots of bad dreams and guilt.

How long have you been writing poetry?

I’ve been writing poetry for twenty-two years, although I’ve only been going public with my writings for the last eight years.

If you could have dinner with one person (dead or alive), who would that be?

I’d love to have dinner with Leonard Cohen.

What influenced you to submit to have your poetry performed by a professional actor?

The curiousity factor of listening to my words being articulated by some-one else, and to have my poem heard by the large audience of Poetry Festival’s readers.

Do you write other…

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A Midday Sun

Have you ever looked up at a Midday Sun,

Shining through the weeping forest canopies.

A golden glowing furnace, that’s larger than life.

Glaring down, from there above.

 

Have you ever flown up to touch the Midday Sun,

Travelling through that deep blue sky and beyond.

A vortex of colour, like a rainbow’s many hues.

Cascading down, from there above.

 

Have you ever been blinded by the Midday Sun.

By that purity of brilliant white.

Forcing your burning eyelids to shut tight.

The Corona’s fiery circles intensely bright.

Like an Angels alluring halo of slivering light.

Enchanting to your mesmerized sight.

Encapsulating a lover’s first flight.

And scorching your heart’s delights.

 

Ivor Steven.

Ivor Steven: Pumpkin Brains

My Smashed Pumpkin Brains, has just been published in the extraordinary, “Slasher Monster Magazine”, Thanks to all at SMM….

Dead Donovan's avatarSlasherMonster Magazine

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What’s it like to be an orange Pumpkin-head

Only black sockets for eyes instead.

And a cut-out smile full of seeds.

Queer ears made of rings and beads.

Inside, your brain is scooped out for pigs feed

Leaving a dark void that doesn’t bleed.

On top you’re like a crinkled dome.

And your sore neck’s being speared home.

What’s it like to have a retina thread

As a throbbing nerve-end tread.

With your cell fibres smashed to a pulp

Knifing across your tender scalp.

Ebbing towards your aching neck

And crushing you like a busted shipwreck.

Then a wooden spike pierces your fragile brain

Where the horrid harpoon spreads your pain.

Written

by

Click HERE to read more poetry by Ivor Steven!

Image Credit: Jack-o-Lanterncarved by Ray Villafane

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Wonder.

Thank you to all of my reader friends, for your wonderful support and well wishes, and today, “Friday The 13th”, I’m finally feeling betterer, and back to my sort of normal !! And so I’m posting this beautiful song, by another one of my of my favourite singer/songwriters, David Francey, click here.  Wonder  …..

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Write to Me

Write to me, please

All I can do is quietly listen,

Listen, to your sweet voice,

Soothing my throbbing soul.

 

Write to my swollen eyes.

My life is becoming blurry,

And my reading’s in over-freeze.

Like the Bibles first Eve.

 

Write to my fallen voice.

Your’s always sounds like an angel.

Gently baptizing my ears,

And caressing my absent mind.

 

Write to my broken heart.

Mine’s still here to share,

Always so true and soft.

Like a morning’s virgin kiss.

 

Please write to me.

And set me free.

 

Ivor Steven.