Category: Photos

Wall of Thorns

Another repost while I am laying down with my sore back … written when I had my third stroke, and I was laying in hospital 31st January 2019 …

Apologies to my readers and followers for not blogging and responding to your articles with my usual zest, my debilitating back pain doesn’t allow me to sit at my computer … hopefully the situation will improve soon.


Wall of Thorns (a Haiku)


My bed of roses

Is scaling a wall of thorns

Perpetually



Ivor Steven (c)  2019

The Lighthouse

Another older poem from February 2021, while I am slowly recovering from my painful back soreness…


The Lighthouse


I am afloat

In between

Here and there

Am I lost?

My ship clock

Is a sundial

Using the moon

To reflect on time


I hear the waves

Pounding white hooves

A heavy sound

Of many moods

Is the sea growing wider?

Is the light glowing brighter?







Ivor Steven (c) Feb 2021

Pain And Tears

A poem about a painful procedure I had a few years ago … sadly my back pain today is feeling very similar 🤗🌏



Pain and Tears

I was curled up like a baby

Exposing my arched back

Firstly an aching anesthetic needle

Then a probing harpoon

They were digging deep beneath

I was gritting my teeth

They had missed the spot

Hitting bone, not forgiving or soft

I screamed in pain

My tears poured like rain

Finally the probe was extracted

And with another injection of anesthetic

A second probing spear

The next failure I did fear

I’m biting that imaginary bullet

My tears poured like rain

They pulled out the rod again

One more go, they deemed

Is the procedure a bad dream

More anesthetic went in

Followed by that probing rod

Relief, they find the core’s spot

The spinal fluid is drained

Happily, my tears stopped again

Ivor Steven (c)  Feb 2019

A Welcoming Roar, is up at Coffee House Writers Magazine

Hello dear readers and followers, I now write for “Coffee House Writers” magazine on a fortnightly basis, and my poem“A Weloming Roar”, is in this week’s edition of Coffee House Writers Magazine. … please click on the link below to read my poem, at Coffee House Writers.
>> https://coffeehousewriters.com/a-welcoming-roar/




Ivor Steven (c) August 2022

Day One (a Repost)

A poem from early in year, while I am here laid up in bed with a sore back


Day One

Before Day One

I wished upon a star
That the milk-bar
Was not too far away
My life’s bread was crumbling
My weathered hands were funmbling
Witnessing the last supper was humbling

Day One

There, beyond the darkness
Out in the universe
From a million light-years away
Under an alien’s microscopic frame
We would all look the same

After Day One

I wished for the dust to settle
Then waited for rusted gunmetal
To mature into household kettles
Whistling hallelujah to new sunflower petals







Ivor Steven (c) August 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

A Tired and Weathered Poet


(Tonight I completed the manuscript for my new book “Perceptions”)
Oh well, the editing and correction process is always ongoing, for the Tired and Weathered Poet





A Tired and Weathered Poet


my writing world

wearily worrys

while wisdom

wistfully wonders

what wizardry waits

within wayward walls

where wrinkled words

wrathfully wound

a tired and weathered poet 



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