Hello dear readers and followers, as you may know, I now write for “Coffee House Writers” magazine on a fortnightly basis, and my poem“My River Flows”, 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/my-river-flows/
Ivor Steven (c) May 3rd 2022
Readers who follow my blog site would know that I attended an Ekphrastic Poetry Workshop during the week, and my poem here today is from a previous Ekphrastic workshop that I went to, in September 2018
Readers who follow my blog site would know that I attended an Ekphrastic Poetry Workshop during the week, and my poem here today is from a previous Ekphrastic workshop that I went to, in September 2018
Above is the Chapbook published by Geelong Writers, and the magnificent painting by Graeme Altmann, that inspired my poem ‘Waiting Time’
Waiting Time
I’m a time-traveler on a mission
Waiting for a personal vision
An image of my father’s ghost
To appear above the white-water coast
Millenniums ago, I delivered him to the ocean
Threw his ashes across the horizon
Away from faceless time-clocks
Away from hidden jagged rocks
Now I see him, proudly standing afloat
Wondering, who’s left to row the boat
Waiting for the breeze, without a sail
Seeking his passage through soundless hail
Beyond tumbling waves, a prism of light
Waiting stops, his alien spirit soars tonight
Ivor Steven (c) Sept…
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Within my old mind
I am foolishly unkind
How can I unwind
My selfish ego is blind
While my heart is left behind
Ivor Steven (c) May 6th 2022
A special poem I wrote, after I’d taken my Lady to hospital for the last time, on the day of her 65th birthday. ten years ago. Hello Carole, and I wonder if you still wonder that I wonder, wishing upon your celestial star…….
Under The Snow.
We emanate to a birthday.
We deflate to a final day.
Birthdays, they all come, they all go.
Birthdays, in the sunshine, under the snow.
Birthdays, slow to mature, quickly an aeon.
Birthdays, before we are born, after we are gone.
Birthdays, hanging on by a breath.
Birthdays, nailed to a cross ’til death.
What’s it all mean to be alive and cry.
What’s it all mean to live and to die.
Ivor Steven. (c) May 2022
Below; I have formed one poem out of four Haiku that I wrote this morning, and I have many fractured thoughts within my soul today, a decade after Carole’s passing on May 3rd 2012 at 1.15pm …
Today’s Fragments
(A four Haiku poem)
I am who I am
I can’t use another tram
She’s my hologram
I sit beside her
Next to yesterday’s campfire
Candles in the wind
A red flame flickers
Under her celestial star
My eternal light
On my island home
Winds blow from across the sea
Completion awaits
Ivor Steven (c) May 3rd 2022
Back on the 2nd of May 2012, I thought this poem was going to be the last piece I would ever write … finality for my wife was near, and my mind was adrift on the horizon. … little did I know, that in few months time, her spirit and enthusiasm for life, would become the inspirational source for the revival of my poetry writings, and now a decade later “Carole’s” amazing zest for life, still influences my every thought behind the words I write …
‘Til Death Do Us Part
She’s there, in that tall pale building of brick.
Where the Nightingales care and tend to the sick.
She’s there, away from home and her comforting bed.
Where the Doctors try to fix the endless ills from her head.
She’s there, and her absence reminds me of future plights.
Where my anxieties for her her well being endure her fight.
She’s there, and I need to visit her all day, and every night.
Where the distance to reach her soul is out of sight.
She’s there, and I’m wondering about that far away dome.
Where her lost personal affection would leave her all alone.
She’s there, in those misty clouds, with church bells ringing.
Where she’s near to the sombre sounds of angels singing.
She’s there, and her constant pain remains tight in my heart.
Now I’m convinced, just like I said at the very start.
There’s no place like home for her gathering dark.
And I promise to her again, ‘til death do us part.
Ivor Steven (c) May 2nd 2022
Ten years ago today, it was the “Time” that I made a “heart stopping decision”
Did Your Heart Stop Too?
Did you cry too?
When the doctors told you
She was not going to recover
Did they ask you too?
About what you already knew
It was time
To flick the switch
And dim her light
Did your heart stop too?
Knowing
You had emptied her shoes
Did you sleep there too?
During those infinite days of blue
Softly holding her hand
And not letting go
Did you weep too?
Blankly alone
In her full room
Waiting
For her last silent breath
Ivor Steven (c) April 27th 2022
I am ecstatic that during this month of personal remembrance for me, to have my special poem/Tanka, “Rivers of Love” published at Spillwords Magazine today, and I am very grateful to the editor Dagmara for accepting my piece .. Pease go and visit my poem at Spillwords and if you wish, leave a 💗 for my article, by clicking on this link >> https://spillwords.com/rivers-of-love/
Rivers Of Love (a Tanka, with an introduction quote)
Written by, Ivor Steven
“How many rivers of tears must I cry. Before all the deepest wells run dry” …Ivor Steven, May 2012
The hail’s coldness stings
An old wind pierces my eyes
As yesterdays tears
Etch raw ravines in my cheeks
Her rivers of love run deep
Ivor Steven (c) April 2022
Happy 75th birthday to my dear departed wife Carole, and I am also celebrating the 10th anniversary of her passing from this world.
Featured Image above: Is a collage I created from 2 of Derrick Knight’s photographs, and thank you to Derrick, for allowing me to use his photos here in conjunction with my poem. >> https://derrickjknight.com/2022/04/15/swarms-of-moths/
A Third Eye is Watching
When your emotions begin to flow
Do your senses amplify and grow?
Bodily aches and mental strains intensify
Your flooded brain feels like a third eye
Wondering why?
You are paddling knee-high
In yesterday’s goodbyes
Today my universe
Hovers above my verse
And there is no reason to cry
While her soul resides high and dry
Ivor Steven (c) 17th April 2022
Originally posted on my site, 27th November 2017.
Yeah .. my concete void has finally been filled ..
Concrete Void
I’m becoming impatient,
Here waiting,
Waiting for a concrete lid.
Too many stop signs,
And lifetime bans.
I’m a good man,
So I’ve been told.
But there’s a chasm,
And the concrete’s,
Yet to fill the void.
……..To my readers that knew about my new verandah, “now nine months old”, and sadly it has been without the patio/floor area being concreted for all that time.. Yippee, today the mission has been accomplished. Thanks to my newly appointed concreter “Damian Maloney”, Yep, he’s on my recommended list. And Lizzy The Lizard Of Wizardry, was curiously looking on…..
Ivor Steven (c) April 2022
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 