Category: Music

The Anthropocene Hymnal: Publication Date announced!

Anthropocene Hymnal

Save the date! The Anthropocene Hymnal is expected to release on July 24th, 2021. The Anthropocene Hymnal is an upcoming anthology about the different impacts of climate crisis and the global pandemic as written through the perspective of many different poets and writers (including myself). Ingrid Wilson is the author and editor behind this anthology. The cover art is by Kerfe Roig.

Purchasing Options

The paperback will be available through Amazon initially (with the possibility of expanded distribution at a later date). The Kindle e-book will be available from Amazon, but I will also be selling my own version of the e-book right here on this site. Payment for downloads purchased in this way will be via donation to WWF.

I am not allowed to market the anthology as a charity book as I have no official affiliation with WWF, but I will be donating all of the royalties I receive to them. I have set up a fundraising page, so you can track donations and see just how The Anthropocene Hymnal is raising money to help the planet whilst raising awareness of the existential issues we face.

Please stay tuned for updates on fundraising, sales outlets and contributors, which I will publish in the run-up to the launch date of 24 July.

Thank you to everyone who has contributed to, or shown an interest in, this project. I very much look forward to bringing it to fruition!

Ingrid





Ivor Steven .. July 2021

Throwback Friday, The Rear of Night, by Ivor Steven

Again, I couldn’t get the ‘Go Dog Go Cafe’ site to reblog my post, so, I have copied and pasted my article here …
This morning in Geelong it’s a cold and thick foggy start to the day, and appropriately I have found this piece from exactly 2 years ago

The Rear of Night

My foggy morning, is an inky dye

The heavy mist, has kidnapped my sky

Sabotaging my light, the sun disappeared in front of my eyes

And the rear of night, has been left with no respite

There is no start, nor end to my blurry sight

Breathing in moist air, I gasp, where is the moon?

Has my gloomy forecast, unraveled too soon?

Is this sunless day, the beginning of doom?







Ivor Steven (c) July 2019

My poem, Horses for Courses, is up at ‘Spillwords”

Please visit my poem at ‘Spillwords’, via this link >
https://spillwords.com/horses-for-courses/ , and give me a ❤ ..


HORSES FOR COURSES

written by: Ivor Steven

@ivors20

there is something about the freedom of horses
beyond green pastures and steeple courses

there is something about the purity of life’s sources
from the snowy mountains down the river courses

there is something about the madness of wartime choices
beyond bloodstained lands of the killing forces

there is something about death’s silent voices
riding in wooden coffins down the hearses brief courses



Ivor Steven

Ivor Steven

Ivor Steven was formerly an Industrial Chemist, then a Plumber, and has been writing poetry for 19 years. His book “Tullawalla” was recently published. He has had numerous poems published in anthologies, and on-line magazines. He is an active member of the Geelong Writers Inc.(Australia), and is a team member/barista with the on-line magazine “Go Dog Go Cafe” (America)


Warrior (a Senryu)

My ‘Senryu’ today was written as a response/comment, to Donna’s poem she posted this morning. Her emotional words touched me deeply ..
>> Not A Love Poem | DJ Ranch


Warrior


a warrior girl

gives her life another twirl

survives in her world



Here is Glen Hansard’s song “Don’t Settle”, that I selected to match the emotions behind my ‘Senryu’, sing along with his superb lyrics below




Ivor Steven (c) June 2021


Glen Hansard Lyrics 

“Don’t Settle” 
 
 

When you climbed the hill of vision 
As above so it was below 
Through the apathy and derision 
Each step ascending you took alone 
And when they pin you in the corner 
Pay no heed to their droning on 
‘Cause you’re not going back where you don’t belong 
 
Well you rose up through the ranks now 
And you worked hard for your luck 
You’ve only got yourself to thank now 
You and everybody else in the book 
And there are hidden hands to guide you 
Other forces now at play 
But you’ve got to learn to get out of their way 
 
Oh, don’t settle 
Oh, not yet 
Oh, don’t settle 
For less 
 
May your song ring true and bright now 
And be honed by your own hand 
As the day gives way to night now 
May it echo through the land 
And when they turn your words against you 
Try to grind you to the ground 
Let them know that they might beat you 
But they’ll never turn you round 
 
Oh, don’t settle 
Oh, not yet 
Oh, don’t settle 
For less 
 
Well you sought no one’s allegiance 
You were cowed by no one’s hand 
You outgrew your antecedents 
Worked your own corner of the land 
And when they set their sights upon you 
Come to mine the seam you struck 
May you bid them well and wish them luck 
 
Oh, don’t settle 
Oh, not yet 
Oh, don’t settle 
And don’t forget what Liam Clancy said 
 
No envy, no anger, no cruelty, no regrets 
No jealousy, no rancour, no confusion; don’t forget 
No enemy, no anger, no incredulity; show respect 
No envy, no anger, no judgement on no one; lest you forget 
Lest you forget what they did to you 
Come on, rise off your knees, you’re not beaten yet 
No envy, no anger, no judgement on no one; lest you forget 
 
And you’re not going back where you don’t fit 

Raining Oceans of Tears



Raining Oceans of Tears


They can send a machine to Mars

But cannot repair a blade of grass

In nature’s backyard


And billions of tears spill into the oceans

Creating a cascading Tsunami of love

Gradually rolling in from a blue horizon

Is this the beginning of the next great flood from above?


The words that are left unsaid

Cannot be misread





Ivor Steven (c) June 2021

Throwback Friday, a Poem by W.B Yeats

A the moment, during another Lockdown situation, I have been reading a book of W.B Yeats poems, called “W. B. Yeats Selected Poems”, which is published by ‘Penguin Classics’ , and I have scanned this poem “Men Improve with the Years” from the book for you to enjoy too. A poem W. B. Yeats wrote in July 1916 …

  • Triton, Sea-diety of Semi-human form.





Ivor Steven (c) June 2021

Yes, They Know!

Yesterday I sent a comment to Suzanne’s article [The Fork in the Road – Mapping uncertainty (wordpress.com)], and my words were basically the same as my poem below …
Featured Image Above: Bing Images, Nine.com.au



Yes, They Know!


silently waiting

under our sacred Uluru

the ancient rock is ready to erupt


corporate bodies lie

governments lie

banks lie

religious leaders lie


and we the human race

blindly commit suicide

everyday we are damaging mother nature

the lifeblood of planet earth


greed is not a life giving seed

greed only makes the down trodden bleed

and continually queuing up for a feed

greed never listens

to our compassionate or humanitarian pleas


our dreams are being slowly strangled

by mysterious chemicals and noxious weeds

and we are drowning in mercury filled seas


you know what really “Bugs” me

that those despots, who own this stupid world

THEY KNOW

YES YOU KNOW AND I KNOW

THEY KNOW!





Ivor Steven (c) June 2021

My Faerie Godmother, Joanna

Here is another poem that I recently submitted, but failed at the selection table, but again, I am now allowed to publish this piece here on my Website… Enjoy !!


My Faerie Godmother, Joanna


The midnight hour is here, and I am ready to hit the moonlit track

Beyond the starry silence, I hear the mystical forest calling me back

My bones are trembling with nervous anticipation

As I sense faerie dust drifting over the blue-gum plantation

Urging me to visit my faerie godmother, Joanna

My days with her are always fun, especially playing with her pet goanna


Her tiny cottage is near the coastal village of Ulladulla

On the banks of the mysteriously green lake Coonawarra

Where auntie Joanna flits about in the purple shadows of her Jacaranda trees

While teasing and dancing in between her pet goanna’s crooked knees


I have been hiking for hours and dawn is breaking

And I pause to bask in the morning’s magical awakening

However, the air is far too still, and I feel something is amiss

Usually, my auntie would be flitting about to playfully blow me a kiss

Then the local mayor comes forward with the sad news about Joanna

My faerie godmother has been eaten by her pet goanna





Ivor Steven (c) June 2021