The silence of time
Will eventually bury mankind
How many false Kings
And foolish Czars
Have destroyed our peaceful yards
How many crumbling bricks
Live in your castle walls?
How foul are the deadly waters
That fill your castle moats?
How many old bridges
Have you foolishly burnt down?
How many shallow graves
Do we have to dig?
Before cemeteries overflow
How many bloody floods
Do we have to endure?
Before the final curtain falls
Ivor Steven (c) June 2022
This little piece is a poetic comment that I wrote in response to V.J. ‘s intriguing poem, ‘On the Edge of Too Late’ >> https://vjknutson.org/2022/06/02/on-the-edge-of-too-late/
Thank you V.J. for touching my nerve ends!!
That Endless Sound
I wonder about the edge
Over time, the dance has eluded me
Between giddily spinning in circles
And my inevitable stumbles
Life has left me spiraling
Without, an ending sound
Ivor Steven (c) June 2022
The Geelong Writers Inc produced this excellent Chapbook from the Ekphrastic workshop that I attended only Three weeks ago, and a big thank you goes to our President, Guenter Sahr, and our hard working Editor, Victoria Spicer …
The Chapbook is available at only $5 via Geelong Writers Inc >> https://www.facebook.com/geelongwritersvic/
Ivor Steven (c) June 2022
Hello dear readers and followers, as you may know, I now write for “Coffee House Writers” magazine on a fortnightly basis, and my poem“Is The Light Our Goal”, is in this weeks edition of Coffee House Writers Magazine. … please click on the link below to read my poem, at Coffee House Writers >> https://coffeehousewriters.com/is-the-light-our-goal/
Ivor Steven (c) May 2022
This week’s challenge on Weekly Prompts is: MISSING. Please go over and visit their fabulous site by clicking on >> Here .. and my Limerick below is in response to the prompt ‘Missing’
Who Has The Foggiest? (a Limerick)
I cannot see the morning moon
There’s no sunshine in my breakfast spoon
The heaviest of fogs falls
I cannot hear the birds’ calls
Has our world condemned nature’s tune?
Ivor Steven © May 2022
My fading dawn was impossible to identify
A heavy fog had kidnapped my sky
Sabotaging my morning sunlight
The day disappeared in front of my eyes
The passing of night left a murky blight
There’s no start nor end to my blurred sight
Breathing in moist air, I gasp, “where’s the moon?”
Had my dismal forecast unravelled too soon?
Is this shadowless gloom?
The beginning of doom ?
Ivor Steven © May 2022
The dawn is a gray silent sea
And as a cold fog invades me
I see a green paddock
Without a horizon
Vanishing into oblivion
I see a ghostly power-source
Hang without opposition
Vanishing into oblivion
I see a ghastly concrete Czar
Without compassion
Disappearing into oblivion
Ivor Steven © May 2022
End Of Day
I was told by a crafty old toad
That my journey was a “No through road”
But he did not say, “The wrong way”
Nor did he infer, “No way”
So, I kept traveling that way
Along my lonely causeway
Towards the end of day
To be farther away
From a world in decay
Ivor Steven © May 2022
After times of sorrow
Hope lives on,
in tomorrow
So sings,
my little sparrow
All my mountains
have been climbed
All my climbs
had their falls and failures
Then ultimately
I tried to reach my goal
“Except that the goal
Falls short of the reach” … Leonard Cohen, from his song ‘The Goal’
Ivor Steven © May 2022
Above
I see a withered desk
Hovering over a lake
Of torn white caps
Like shredded foam
On blue-lined papers
Below
I see a submerged floor
Drowning in clusters
Of broken dreams
Like abandoned shoes
On white-washed beaches
Ivor Steven (c) May 2022
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 