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.

Beyond Today There Is Tomorrow

Beyond the broken porthole

I stand on a basin pedestal

I’m going down with the ship

She left the wreck last week

Left my bones in the bathroom

Drowning in the blue lagoon

**********

Last night there was a fire down the street

On the other side of the creek

I heard the commotion in my sleep

The old farmhouse was burnt to the ground

And lingering smoke on the water whispered sounds

Of memories lost and a loyal dachshund

***********

The Alien poet’s brain

Is a fascinating place

A distant surreal view

Hooked, like a fish on a line

Laying tomorrows foundations

On old pieces of used paper

Using dried up ink as mortar

And the sky is the work’s next brick

Remembering yesterdays sunshine

Is today’s dawn and beyond

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Quote #5, And, Quote #6

            “The sound of nature

            the voice of our future

              rings loud and clear

the Symphony of life we need to hear”       

– Ivor Steven

 

                        **********

 

 ” Where there is nature, there is life

       without nature there is no life”             

– Ivor Steven

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

Words, Lost And Found

When your senses are blind

Driving you out of your mind

How do you find that word

Unique and unheard

Lost, gone out of your head

Not there, under your unmade bed

Nor between your untidy sheets

Removed during your midnight heat

You’ve searched along every note-pad line

Flicked through grandpa’s dictionary overtime

The missing word is yet to be found

Your dog stares at you, as if you’re unsound

It’s somewhere, you wrote it down

The word, to be your poem’s crown

Shaking your brain, side to side

Rattle, rattle, adjectives clash inside

Suddenly you remember

It’s something about December

How could you forget

The fallen Refugee reject

Cutting himself on his old sword

Swearing, “restitution”, is the word

Ivor Steven (c) 2018

Across The Hallway

 Sunday morning bliss 

A memory, a wish 

Confirmation, of a promise 

A togetherness kiss 

 

My tears do dwell 

I was under her spell 

There’s no need for show and tell 

You know my heart well 

 

There’s a memory lane 

Within my sighing veins 

Pumping slowly, flowing deep 

A river of dreams that never sleep 

 

Visions of a begone life 

A joyful husband and wife 

The glory days are gone 

Happily, I’ve begun to move on 

And remember with fondness 

Our first, and last kiss 

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

A Morning Kiss

Photo Challenge Laundry Day

Yep a photo of my little laundry, untouched, on this sunny Sunday morning, and below, if I had done the washing, is a photo of my clothes line under my Verandah, my laundry day didn’t happen. My Saturday night’s over indulgence has developed into a Sunday morning hangover, and my dirty washing will be still there again on Monday !! Monday often becomes my laundry day……… and also below, a few words I wrote this morning instead of doing the washing, yes, definitely a lot more fun, and far more comforting for this self-inflicted headache of mine…….
A Morning Kiss
Your lips taste of warm honey
Sweetly delicious
Our kiss lusciously melts into one
Firmly moist
We lovingly smile, a honeymoon embrace
Divinely entwined
20180812_112811
And a pleasant Sunday morning song by Nick Cave.
Ivor Steven (c)  2018

The Dark Streets

I’ve been listening to The Waterboys songs lately, their lyrics are meaningful and their music is always dramatic. In this following piece of mine I’ve used 18 of their song Titles as the foundation for my poem. To other Waterboys fans who read this post, I hope my words have done The Waterboys the justice they deserve, by all their glorious songs. For those readers, and me, who are struggling with the italics and too many capital letters, below at the bottom of the post, is an easy reading version.

The combined Trumpets of the world are sounding

Being carried on today’s Lonesome Old Wind

Resonating loudly for The Stolen Child

And Choirs are singing The Faery’s Last Song

 

Where did their promise go, and there’s no Sweet Thing in sight

Will the children get to view The Whole Of The Moon again

When will they ever cry out, “This Is The Sea”

Searching for their parents, crying “Where Are You Now When I Need You”

 

Children crawling Down Through The Dark Streets

Cowering under black clouds and Purple Rain

In A Pagan Place, created by governments

Shamefully they have Let It Happen

 

Our leaders need a wake-up call And A Bang On The Ear

When will they tell us “The Healing Has Begun”

We Will Not Be Lovers anymore, until

They declare to the last refugee girl, “She Is So Beautiful”

 

Let us hope the children suffer no Red Army Blues

And need not worry about being Too Close To Heaven

A big thank you to my friend Chris Black of, A way with words. for inspiring me to write another one these poems using song titles, the last one I wrote was on December 2nd 2017.  https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2017/12/02/where-have-all-the-good-times-gone-2/

The Waterboys Lyrics

“Down Through The Dark Streets”

Down by old house
Over the bridge
Down through the dark streets
Where we used to live
Out by the cornfield
And the sycamore trees
Down to the water
Will you come, Lassie please?Snow in the town square
December afternoon
Christmas lights
A crescent moon
A boy selling chestnuts
Roasted and brown
Dropping black cinders
That hiss on the ground
You and I stand like strangers
In our Hokusai clothes
Like we come from some strange country
That nobody else knows
And to go where the wind blows
Are just the words of thieves
So will you come with me, Lassie
Will you come Lassie, please?There’s a place there by the river
I never showed you before
But when I’m far away
That’s where I go
Outside it’s lamplight
High time we leave
Winter-a-borning
Will you come Lassie, please?The big blue sea between us
Is thousands of miles
It’s cruel I know
But you just have to smile
I’d be back for you
If I could just believe
That everything is right and pure
That everything is right and pure
That everything is right and pure
Will you come, Lassie, please?

 

The Dark Streets

The combined trumpets of the world are sounding

Being carried on today’s lonesome old wind

Resonating loudly for the stolen child

And Choirs are singing the Faery’s last song

 

Where did their promise go, and there’s no sweet thing in sight

Will the children get to view the whole of the moon again

When will they ever cry out, “This Is The Sea”

Searching for their parents, crying “Where Are You Now When I Need You”

 

Children crawling down through the dark streets

Cowering under black clouds and purple rain

In a pagan place, created by governments

Shamefully they have let it happen

 

Our leaders need a wake-up call and a bang on the ear

When will they tell us “The Healing Has Begun”

We will not be lovers anymore, until

They declare to the last refugee girl, “She Is So Beautiful”

 

Let us hope the children suffer no red army blues

And need not worry about being too close to heaven

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018.

 

 

 

 

 

The Dark Streets

I’ve been listening to The Waterboys songs lately, their lyrics are meaningful and their music is always dramatic. In this following piece of mine I’ve used 18 of their song Titles as the foundation for my poem. To other Waterboys fans who read this post, I hope my words have done The Waterboys the justice they deserve, by all their glorious songs. For those readers, and me, who are struggling with the italics and too many capital letters, below at the bottom of the post, is an easy reading version.

The combined Trumpets of the world are sounding

Being carried on today’s Lonesome Old Wind

Resonating loudly for The Stolen Child

And Choirs are singing The Faery’s Last Song

 

Where did their promise go, and there’s no Sweet Thing in sight

Will the children get to view The Whole Of The Moon again

When will they ever cry out, “This Is The Sea”

Searching for their parents, crying “Where Are You Now When I Need You”

 

Children crawling Down Through The Dark Streets

Cowering under black clouds and Purple Rain

In A Pagan Place, created by governments

Shamefully they have Let It Happen

 

Our leaders need a wake-up call And A Bang On The Ear

When will they tell us “The Healing Has Begun”

We Will Not Be Lovers anymore, until

They declare to the last refugee girl, “She Is So Beautiful”

 

Let us hope the children suffer no Red Army Blues

And need not worry about being Too Close To Heaven

A big thank you to my friend Chris Black of, A way with words. for inspiring me to write another one these poems using song titles, the last one I wrote was on December 2nd 2017.  https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2017/12/02/where-have-all-the-good-times-gone-2/

The Waterboys Lyrics

“Down Through The Dark Streets”

Down by old house
Over the bridge
Down through the dark streets
Where we used to live
Out by the cornfield
And the sycamore trees
Down to the water
Will you come, Lassie please?Snow in the town square
December afternoon
Christmas lights
A crescent moon
A boy selling chestnuts
Roasted and brown
Dropping black cinders
That hiss on the ground
You and I stand like strangers
In our Hokusai clothes
Like we come from some strange country
That nobody else knows
And to go where the wind blows
Are just the words of thieves
So will you come with me, Lassie
Will you come Lassie, please?There’s a place there by the river
I never showed you before
But when I’m far away
That’s where I go
Outside it’s lamplight
High time we leave
Winter-a-borning
Will you come Lassie, please?

The big blue sea between us
Is thousands of miles
It’s cruel I know
But you just have to smile
I’d be back for you
If I could just believe
That everything is right and pure
That everything is right and pure
That everything is right and pure
Will you come, Lassie, please?

 

The Dark Streets 

 The combined trumpets of the world are sounding 

Being carried on today’s lonesome old wind 

Resonating loudly for the stolen child 

And Choirs are singing the Faery’s last song 

 

Where did their promise go, and there’s no sweet thing in sight 

Will the children get to view the whole of the moon again 

When will they ever cry out, “This Is The Sea” 

Searching for their parents, crying “Where Are You Now When I Need You” 

 

Children crawling down through the dark streets 

Cowering under black clouds and purple rain 

In a pagan place, created by governments 

Shamefully they have let it happen 

 

Our leaders need a wake-up call and a bang on the ear 

When will they tell us “The Healing Has Begun” 

We will not be lovers anymore, until 

They declare to the last refugee girl, “She Is So Beautiful” 

 

Let us hope the children suffer no red army blues 

And need not worry about being too close to heaven 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018.

 

 

 

 

 

Pendulum Lights

I was blinded

By the light

Losing the fight

 

I was silenced

By the noise

Staying without poise

 

I was attacked

By the crown

Breaking me down

 

I was sentenced

By the people

Hiding under their steeple

 

Hung out to dry

Nailed to a cross

Punished for my loss

 

Surviving, burnt my courage

I battled to be bold

Returning from the cold

 

I refound my faith

Recouping what they stole

Purifying my lost soul

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Music, By Xavier Rudd

I’m sitting at home this morning listening to the music of Xavier Rudd, and I’ll post two of songs with the lyrics below. Enjoy his words and his music, he’s an outstanding artist from my local area here, Geelong. Oh, yes, dear readers, the Plumber is going to work soon.

Xavier Rudd Lyrics

“Home”

Streets full of people
With trinkets to share
Offering them up for folks in despair
Yandi and crystals and oils for growth
Of spirit and body and mind as we go

Emphasis placed on the body and mind
The heart os often somewhere behind
Strange

Tiny little bones of the innocent child
Lookin’ up at me with the saddest of eyes
Is her innocence in tact?
Or has it been stained?
Has the creature that feeds her taken it away
Strange
So sad it’s strange

I recognize my health
Things I have been dealt
Places that I have roamed
Feelings I’ve had
Things that I know

Home, my home
Home, my home
Home, I’m home

Running through the bush
And all of the trees
Moving in time with my capable speed
Skippy ants claw
At the edge of the bowl
Of the shell of an egg
Of bird long since gone
Maybe it rose up
To spread it’s new wings
Or maybe it nourished
A stronger sibling
Strange

Places we roam
And people we meet
Some connections are strong
And some of them are weak
1 or 2 or 3 or 4
Or maybe 5 or 6 or more
Strong as the roots
Of a big old gum tree
And we’ll carry them through
To the next life we see
Strange
So beautifully strange

Recognize my health
Things that i have been dealt
Places that i have roamed
Feelings i’ve had
Things that i know

Home, my home
Home, my home
Home, i’m home

Xavier Rudd Lyrics

“Creating A Dream”

Imagine every whale was free to roam
Imagine if the trees could tell us where to go
Imagine that the sun could fill each lonely heart
Imagine confrontation never got a start

Imagine things were always crystal clear
Imagine if the mind never interfered
Imagine we could fly with broken wings
Imagine if the heart could shed its skin

Please patience please, patience please
I’m creating a dream
Please patience please, patience please
I’m creating a dream

Imagine sacred sites were left to be
Imagine if true activists controlled TV
Imagine Captain Watson had the final say
Imagine if industry just had to obey

Please patience please, patience please
I’m creating a dream
Please patience please, patience please
I’m creating a dream
Please patience please, patience please
I’m creating a dream

.
And there’s no Xavier Rudd music without listening to his magnificent classic “Spirit Bird”