Category: Peace

The Disappearance of Decency


Introduction

Naked I stand before Him
Stripped of common decency
Debased, I kneel crying
Sad words fall like rain
Tanks are still rolling
Over the Ukraine
My Tanka’s are scrolling
Down their bloody drains



Tanka #1. Sad Sky

False words smudge old clouds
Gray clouds hang under sad sky
The sad sky decries
“Children are our butterflies
And please stop the warring lies”


Tanka #2. Broken Biscuits

Life is imperfect 
Like broken war-time biscuits 
Re-connection waits 
Reconciliation stops 
Life’s sweet shortbread’s unopened 


Tanka #3. Abandoned

May the stormy winds
Calmly abate in Europe
And bring peace quickly
Do not forget the children
We cannot abandon them


Epilogue

Cover me
Give me beauty
Inspire me
Calm me
Save me
From that deadly bee
Above the Black Sea








Ivor Steven (c) March 2022

The Gates of Hell Over Stolen Ground




Do you feel the weight?

Of radio-active clouds

Hanging over stolen ground

Do you hear the birds singing?

Gone!

Is that peaceful sound


Do you hear warning sirens howl?

Resonating like old war songs

When bombs are guided into sacred ground

Fires from hell destroying beds and towns

Gone!

As ashen children wander over burnt ground


Home is a communal air-raid shelter

Where families fearfully huddle together underground

Above!

The torn loyalties of alien soldiers

Tread lightly and warily upon broken ground






Ivor Steven (c) March 2022

On The Banks of Lake Connewarre




I am not here to wait

For the world to finally rotate

Time for me is getting late

I am here to watch the grand parade

Eventually pass by my front gate


One day soon

After the next purple moon

Illuminates our children’s fearful tears

I will see those grandiose leaders

Calmly sit down together

On the peaceful banks

Of Lake Connewarre*


Connewarre; an Aboriginal word meaning ‘black swan’







Ivor Steven (c) February 2022

A World Of Puppets (a Tanka)

Featured Image Above: by Derrick Knight, who kindly allows me to reproduce his photos here on my poetry website …

A World Of Puppets (a Tanka)




Are we the puppets?

Punch and Judy’s without strings

Who’s contolling things?

As Putin’s a dummy too

Ask the children in Russia






Ivor Steven (c) February 2022

Bloody Tears, Bloody History



Can you hear the ghosts of Sunday?

“Sunday, Bloody Sunday”


From your distant country’s

On the edge of peace and tranquility

Within your rural trees of serenity


Beyond invisible borders of rivalry

Between oblivious inequality

From the old schoolyard bully

Overseeing an avoidable atrocity


Again another “Sunday, Bloody Sunday”

How can they forget history so quickly?



The Final Sunset

I have a few thank you’s to accompay the writing of my piece “The Final Sunset”.

Firstly my opening stanza was written as a response to Susi’s inspiring post today, thank you Susi. https://iwriteher.com/2022/02/24/peace-please/ Thank you to David Redpath, for reminding me of Bob Dylan’s poignant protest song, “Masters Of War” , which I have attached below. https://highwaybloggery.com/2022/02/24/masters-of-war/ , and thank you to Derrick Knight for allowing me to use his stunning “Sunset” photo as my featured photo here on my site, https://derrickjknight.com/2022/02/24/the-assistant-photographer-saves-the-day/

The Final Sunset 
 
 
Wrong versus right 
War versus peace 
Greed versus commonsense 
Destruction versus harmony 
Killing versus living 
 
War is not the people’s choice 
 
Is this to be our final sunset 
Will she justifiably refuse  
To open her golden eye 
Upon another shattering dawn  
Of our manufactured doom






Ivor Steven (c) February 2022

Waiting In Line

Please Note: The Idyll winery estate, located in the picturesque Moorabool Valley area, is only 15 km from my front door, and are well renowned for their award winner Cabernet Sauvignon blends … 2021 – New York International Wine Competition – Idyll Victoria Cabernet Sauvignon – Gold






Waiting In Line




lazing in a valley of vines

under the summer sunshine

with a bottle of Idyll wine 

drank in no time 

dandy and sublime 

heeds no rhyme

beyond an imaginary climb

along the river of time

that awaits a final line

after life’s closing pantomime






Ivor Steven (c) January 2022

A Courtyard Song




A Courtyard Song




The spring morn is crisp

Sun-rays cling onto my chest

Porridge and lemon-ginger tea

Refresh my sleepy soul

Courtyard flowers arouse my eyes

Music vibrates the air

With a piano tune from Ludovico Einaudi

And Frankie quietly watches on


I write a comment for Derrick

His home in England needs a plumber

Then I send a song to Susi in America

To compliment her lovely ‘Fall’ poem

Carolyn’s words enrich my heart

But she will need her tissues

When she plays the video/music song

Only 8.00 am, and my message box is full

And now, the old poet’s day begins





Ivor Steven (c) October 2021