Category: Poems

“In the confusion we stay with each other, happy to be together, speaking without uttering a single word.” –
Walt Whitman


Brave Heart

I always remember

The last time I saw the sun

I always remember

The last time I saw you run

Yesterday I remembered

The colour of your eyes

Yesterday I remembered

The colour of our brilliant sky

Today I remembered

The happiness in your smile

Today I remembered

The happiness of our every mile

Tomorrow I will remember

The final beat of your brave heart

Tomorrow I will remember

The unread pages of our lost charts

Ivor Steven (c) 17th April 2021

Nine years ago today, I took my lady to the hospital for the last time, finality was on the way, and the day was her Birthday… and two weeks later, she gracefully passed away….

Gracious Lady

There is a lady on the horizon

Slender against the dusk

Sliding down with the sun

She vanished in the daytime

Hiding between the dawn

And the fading moon

A quiet and gracious lady

Who would relax on her old garden seat

There between her lily pond

And her faithful dog

Waiting graciously to be set free

Far beyond her flowering wattle tree

Forever glowing, my brightest light

Forever shining, on my darkest nights

Ivor Steven (c) April 17th 2021

violent winds

and turbulent seas

left our fairy penguins

struggling to breathe

their tired wings

wore wounded feathers

frozen by the storm

testing the tiny creature’s

natural resilience

and vigilant rescuers

lined the blustery shores

nurturing the survivors in need

Ivor Steven (c) April 2021

The poker faced cameraman said cheese

I thought, “I will have swiss cheese please”

The starter said, “Get on your marks”

Secretly, I was ready to fart

The referee pointed and said, “Get off the pitch

I swore, “Not my fault the guy was a bitch”

The train conductor said, “Who pulled that emergency cord?”

As I speed down the corridor on my skateboard

The teacher said, “Who wrote that silly limerick on the blackboard?”

And I hid behind the brick wall listening to Pink Floyd

The grumpy lecturer said, “Who lit that smoke-bomb in the Library?”

I was last seen mischievously rescuing the principal’s secretary

Ivor Steven (c) April 2021

“The strongest and sweetest songs yet remain to be sung.” – Walt Whitman

Tomorrow’s Song

When I am old

Or, when I am older

Not if, but when

Alone my later years I will spend

I will listen to music at home

Croon along with Leonard Cohen

Read dusty books by poets and champions

Write simple words about bees and lions

When I am old

Living on leftover fools gold

I will hobble down smooth paths

Sip on tea and savour Guinness draughts

And thank my tiring tongue

For hungering what I have left undone

When I am old

Shivering from the cold

I will silently snuggle up in bed

Quietly chase dreams in my head

And thank my fading mind

For seeing what I have left behind

Ivor Steven (c) April 2021

“The poet judges not as a judge judges but as the sun falling around a helpless thing.”
― Walt Whitman

Is There Enough Time?




I slept half awake during the night

And dawn arrived through half open sight

I began the warn morn half dressed

I bathed and stepped halfway into my best

I opened the front door halfway

And half peered down the sunny pathway

And I asked the half world of day light

Is half a day of sun, enough foresight?

Enough time to repair the world’s wrongs

Enough time to walk every worn furlong

Enough time for the living to grow strong

Enough time to write the next happy song

Ivor Steven (c) April 2021

At the moment I am reading Walt Whitman’s ‘Leaves of Grass and Selected Poems and Prose’ that I borrowed from the Geelong Library, and after reading only 60 pages, I am aready amazed enough to go ahead and purchase a copy for my bookshelf, and his writings motivated me to write the below poem today…

Invisible Why and When

In the midst of my life

I am still using her carving knife

Between here and there

I am still climbing through the air

Between blank lines and my velvet pen

I am still writing about invisible why and when

Between whom I hear and what I see

I am still searching for the olive tree

Between her star and the dark side of the moon

I can still reach the man with a silver spoon

Between her broken mirror and my empty glass

I can still feel the universe in a blade of grass

Ivor Steven (c) April 2021