Category: Poems

Looking down, I saw a garden bed

Looking closer, beyond the bordering edge

There were glossy emerald leaves

And blooms of springtime violets



Looking up, I saw a misty sky

Looking closer, beyond the sky’s diameter

There were twilight’s glassy stars

And dreams of celestial olive eyes

Ivor Steven (c) August 2020

Stumbling out of the ocean

With one eye half open

The other eye half closed

My vision turned cross eyed



I saw only dark skies

And many dirty pig sties

Take the Savior’s pill they said

And leave empty eye-drops for the dead

Ivor Steven (c) August 2020.

During the blustery tempest light night

The wolves were howling with fright

And the arctic winds blew and blew

But the raging storm did not phase you

Even though your footings were open and bare

Skinless bones exposed to the cold air

Yet still you steadfastly resist the blizzards’ abuse

Defiant and strong, no matter what the news

Valiantly nurturing your mother-tree with true colours

And then daringly feeding your sisters and brothers

Ivor Steven (c) August 2020

The witty city ones

Don’t get to see all of the sun

They rant and grimace during the day

At night you’ll hear them cry and bay

Their barks are worse than their bites

If they saw the white wolf they’d get a fright

The icing has melted on their cakes

And run off with their dirty plates

Behind masks mesmerised eyes blankly stare

At the city’s empty streets and lonely chairs

There’s too many people in the same boat

This ancient raft’s struggling to stay afloat

There’s not enough life-jackets for the crowd

Some will drown, others will stand proud

Ivor Steven (c) 2020

The Wednesday Challenge WORD on the Weekly Prompts site is PATIENCE. To visit their fabulous site please click >> Here Here’s my response to the prompt

The Old Song Went Wrong

I’m as patient as the moon’s sand

But some things I’ll never understand

My list is too long …

I’ve too many old songs

Melodies played out wrong

Why do I have to stay strong?

I don’t like this new song

My words of reality don’t belong

And ancient honesty has gone


Featured Image: muralsyourway.com

Ivor Steven (c) August 2020

Hello dear readers and followers. During these days of lockdown, I’ve been preparing and typing madly, to produce my Nineteenth Tullawalla Poetry Booklet….. For new readers that don’t know about these booklets, they are basically the reason why I write poetry. I produce the booklets for the sole purpose of raising funds for my favourite charity organisation, the MS Society, in Australia via the MS Charity Shop here in Geelong. And actually all money’s I receive for any of my poetry .via, submissions, I donate to the MS Society…. I’m proud to announce, that the sale of my “Tullawalla Booklets”, have now gone pass $1300.00, … to all the lovely readers, who have donated, to help achieve such a wonderful amount, a big heartfelt thank you, from “us” and the MS Society … …..Amazingly, there is now a total of “779 poems”, in my collection/series of 19 Tullawalla Booklets. This booklet is finally completed, and ready for sale now !! As always, they are available for purchase, either as a hard copy or a PDF format….. All proceeds go to the MS Charity Shop, here in Geelong West….. Please contact me here through my website page and I can chat about arrangements from there…. Oh, the booklet is called “Tullawalla: “Ocean Spirit”… …. And here is the link to my website >> https://ivors20.wordpress.com

Ivor Steven (c) August 2020

My featured image above is my response to the second drawing of “The Colouring With B Challenge”, (couchtalksblog.wordpress.com ) and as always for me, whenever I’m doing a project, my music’s playing loudly in the background, and together with my colourful drawing, I was inspired to write this poem. Again, a special thank you to Brandi, for supplying the drawing for me to colour in ….

 

A Choir Of Cicadas

 

Night and day

My music box plays

Relaxing my minds ways

Beyond this worlds gathering haze

 

Above, there’s a breathing sky

Beneath, I stand on earth feeling high

And in between I hear nature’s symphony

Resonating her rhythms of harmony

Her musical tonic of lively scores

A choir of cicadas and more

 

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2020

“Choir Of Cicadas” , Lyrics by, Poets of the Fall.

It’s the season of dust trailing old pick up trucks
Seashells washed ashore down by the docks
So baby pull on your blue jeans turn the radio loud
Don’t wait for the hour to give birth to doubt

In the peak harvest of snakebites and wasted hindsight
When trivial truths sit next to the taillights
When fenders of chrome they rattle and hum
All carved in the shape of freedom

Those flea market stalls in the bone dry noon
Despite pretty signs, look cursed and marooned
And trumpet notes wailing from the candy store
Like a work of art of uneasy rapport

The wreckage, the blunder, the tarot read
In the heat blurry air we’re down in the field
Where to the choir of cicadas’ jubilee
Among the clouds we once fell asleep

The sirens of the shipyard by those derelict whales
Old mothers singing rusty old tales
Like revving engines keening sky high
Yet theirs is never a war cry

So I’ll be your lover now, brazen and bright
Like the flare of a match you struck in the night
Though what does a stray know ’bout holy and true
But I’ll always come to your rescue

Oh lord won’t you hear your children cry
Singing their praise and their hallelujahs
I have no more words to describe
An empty sky of hollow blue, yeah
So where is my lover, my firelight
The line on the edge of truth and rumour
We took our vows in the heart of the night
We were brazen and bright, when we were brazen and bright