Category: Memories

The Sun Never Sets

My poem today is a repost from July 2019.



The Sun Never Sets


Dreaming of distant horizons and red sunsets

Visualising vast oceans and blue skies

Writing emotional hello’s and goodbye’s


Why do I write ?

Could it be an ego thing

Who do I write for ?

Anyone that is listening

Does she hear me too ?

I’d like to speculate so

What do I write ?

Ideas that seep from my heart

But, what do I write about ?

The subjects that matter


To love the soul of our planet

Honour the love we give

Adore the love we receive






Ivor Steven (c)  July 2019

We Lost the Sea (a Haiku, Tullawalla, page 117)

This article is copied from my post on “Go Dog Go Cafe’s Throwback Friday” earlier today.
>> https://godoggocafe.com/2022/10/21/throwback-friday-we-lost-the-sea-by-ivor-steven/

The Haiku, ‘We Lost the Sea’ is one of 12 Haiku that appear in my book Tullawalla, and this Haiku was written in May 2019.

We Lost the Sea (a Haiku, Tullawalla, page 117)


 

Bridges of dreams crossed

The ocean and river spanned

Waters of love found







Ivor Steven (c) May 2019

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. View all posts by ivor20 

After Memoria

Hello dear readers and followers, I now write for “Coffee House Writers” magazine on a fortnightly basis, and my poem “After Memoria”, is in this week’s edition of Coffee House Writers Magazine. … please click on the link below and visit my poem, at Coffee House Writers.
>> https://coffeehousewriters.com/after-memoria/


After Memoria 


Sliding into euphoria 

After falling out of Memoria 


Where to start

When there is no beginning 

The judges guns remain loaded 

But there is no-one on the causeway


Why is the coldest mountain?

In the middle of the desert

How to climb the lowest alps?

Below the deepest ocean 

How to soar and fly? 

Without wings in a vacant sky 

Can the old river be paddled? 

After the bath runs dry 


Where to find happiness

After falling in the marathon 

How to slide into euphoria 

After falling out of Memoria






Ivor Steven (c) October 2022


Who’s Left to Row the Boat, (Tullawalla, page 37 )


Tullawalla is now available at Amazon
>> https://www.amazon.com/Tullawalla-Meeting-Memories-Australian-Languages/dp/0645377023/ref=sr_1_2?crid=2NUSUI90AWK6&keywords=Tullawalla&qid=1663851584&s=books&sprefix=tullawalla%2Cstripbooks-intl-ship%2C301&sr=1-2




Who’s Left to Row the Boat
… This week it is 22 years since I suffered my first stroke …


The storms are too many to count

Emotional lows had weathered me out

Her journey with MS was a struggle

How much lower could our lives sink


After fourteen years of our battles, I suffered a Stroke

An ambulance came, my brain was in a boat

Floating out to sea, overboard and panic-stricken

I wasn’t swimming, barely awake, and drifting

I had fallen, nothing was working, and not talking

She’s crying, I’m sobbing, my heart is dying

And who’s left to row the boat, I’m thinking

I was jabbed with a needle and silently sleeping


I awoke a day later, in hospital, feeling wasted

My face was limp, mouth parched, was that death I tasted

My mind was active, I thought, where is she

I knew I was bad; the room was all blurry to me

Strong anxieties had set in, I needed to know

Nurses came to me, I pleaded, I wanted to go

“Help me to see her, just give my bed a tow

Please let me go, before I’m covered in snow”






Ivor Steven (c) September 2022

The Last Chicane (Revised) 

“The Last Chicane” is a poem I wrote in October 2019, and this morning I reworded several lines …





The Last Chicane (Revised)


 

I have been climbing every rung 

Even the broken ones unsung 

I have played every sad song 

Even when the words were wrong 


I saw my bird fly away 

Even though her nest stays here today 

I have praised my swan’s eternal fight 

Even through her turbulent flights 


I am listening to the bells chiming 

Even above lyrics that are not rhyming 

I am beginning to flutter my wings again 

Even after missing the last chicane 

I am preparing for the next equestrian 

Even though I am a lost pedestrian 






Ivor Steven (c) September 2022

A Steep Slide (a Musette)

Recently Ryan Stone [https://daysofstone.wordpress.com/] introduced me to a new poem format Musette, and today I am presenting my first attempt at writing a Musette.
“Musette” 
three verses 
first line – 2 syllables 
second line – 4 syllables 
third line – 2 syllables 
rhyme scheme – a/b/a c/d/c e/f/e 
title reflects poems content 


A Steep Slide (a Musette)




I creep

Down the steep slide

I weep


Betrayed

I hide and shake

Afraid


I crawl

Away from shame

And bawl






Ivor Steven (c) September 2022

Out There, Right Now






Hobbling along

A tear sodden path

I stumble

Beneath heavy morning clouds


Shaken

I feel the shadow

Of her unfortunate life

Pass over me

From beyond the atmosphere

Of this disheartening world


Out there, somewhere

In our universe

Her eternal star

Somehow, right now

Illuminates my soul






Ivor Steven (c) August 2022

Yorkie, Against the Undertow

The Wednesday challenge from Weekly Prompts is: CYCLING … please go over and visit their fabulous site by clicking on >> Here … My poem today is a “Repost” from January 7th 2019, and some of my followers may remember my hectic rehab’ time after my stroke in early December. I had to get myself fit enough to fly to New York by April 24th …
Well here it is Thursday evening in Geelong, 10.55pm, and I’m editing my new book “Perceptions” again … oh well that’s “the undertow of life”





Yorkie, Against the Undertow


I’m seated on my silver bike, called Yorkie

Pedalling slow and steadily

I’m not actually moving

But I am dreaming

Thinking of places I could be

Visualising what I might see


If I can keep pushing

I’ll end up with a Qantas cushion

I know the year is new and early

But I’m feeling unfit and unworldly

There’s a long way for my body to go

There’s no turning back, despite the undertow






Ivor Steven (c) August 2022