hello world, do you see my frown?
will the blizzards ever calm down?
will the rains ever soften the ground?
will the tears of silence be the only sound?
the frozen wounds are deep
the mountains of snow are steep
humans need to stop being cold sheep
and begin taking their own individual leaps
the rewards of being nice
far outweigh this world of ice
Ivor Steven (c) July 2020
Paradise Beach
on and on we must go
we the mighty who dare
to venture above and beyond
our drab old vaudeville show
join the journey of discovery
out there in search of the Milky Way
swim on our universe’s distant shores
where there’s sure to be a stellar star
completely made of compassion
held together by oceans full of love
our beach, a united paradise
one nation, within our reach
Ivor Steven (c) July 2020
Hello dear readers and followers. Over the last 3 days I’ve been preparing and typing madly, to produce my Eighteenth Tullawalla Poetry Booklet….. Because of my recent health issues, the setting out and formulating of the booklet has been quite a task for me….. And I apologise for my absence from your blog sites… my ability to do more than one thing at a time, is now very limited….Anyhow, 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 “736 poems”, in my collection/series of 18 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: “I, Can Breathe”… …. And here is the link to my website >> https://ivors20.wordpress.com
Ivor Steven (c) July 2020.
Today I was struggling for a title and the wording of my 2nd line, but after a chat with a friend of mine, a well known poet, who’s, “Living on the equator and longing for snow”. and she inadvertently inspired me, to come up with the title, and complete my second line….
There’s a Penguin In My Courtyard
my courtyards a frozen pond
cold enough for a penguin
shrouds of ice lay upon the ground
and a crisp sharpness cuts the sound
of the birds unthawed songs of silence
as fernery fronds curl in glaciated defiance
and in the corner there’s a frostbitten spider’s web
while frigidly rigid is the succulent flower bed
above there’s the sun’s ambient saffron disc
the dawn’s prediction that golden days do exist
Ivor Steven (c) June 2020
I’m waiting for Aine’s promise
On an outdoor setting of the Box Office
My open eyes don’t see lies
The white icing is only a disguise
Reality lays under the glossy lid
Hiding a secret taste of apple and fig
Together, we’re sharing the sun’s halo
A warm circle of iridescent yellow
Divinely shiny, fresh and mellow
A glorious treat for me to swallow
Aine- In Irish mythology, Áine, is the summer sun. Áine is the goddess of wealth, with power over crops and animals and she is sometimes represented by a red horse.
Ivor Steven (c) June 2020
Lost and isolated, without a compass
Below the dome of justice
Inside the great white shed
Behind faceless masks of dread
Hides a secret constitution misread
And under fire the penguin wears two heads
The curtain of the sacred temple
Has been torn down the middle
A shredded divide, created by design
The devils’ chasm, now cleverly enshrined
Ivor Steven (c) June 2020
I posted this poem yesterday evening, I’m republishing today, without the ‘Links/Pingbacks’… and I’m adding another old ‘Bee Gees’ song “Words”, which seems to be appropriate for my poem here, which basically, is only ‘words’ from my pondering thoughts.
Our World, Air For Us All
What grows up
Eternally falls to ground
What’s absorbed in
Eventually seeps out
Did you hear the sound?
The world is round
But is the universe a square?
As we struggle to breathe in our share
Did you hear there’s enough air for us all?
So why cry before we’ve learnt how to crawl?
Ivor Steven (c) June 2020
Above, my bedroom space this morning….I’m also linking this poem to “Fae Corps Inc” for their ‘Indie Wednesday’ article, and you may visit their creative site by clicking >Here
Lost In Space
I’m leaving this land of lost grace
And flying off into space
It’s time to run-away
My airship left yesterday
Love is a stowaway in the heart
And love needs a head start
Somewhere in this universe
There’s love in the shepherd’s purse
Ivor Steven (c) June 2020
“There’s sweetness in the winter sunlight” … Ivor Steven
This weekend the challenge on Weekly Prompts is; Dessert. …..Please go over and visit their fabulous site, by clicking >>Here. My poem below is about the sweetness of waking up, after a moment of darkness, and the sudden realisation, that I’m still alive.. !!
Hills and Valleys
Far beyond the maddening crowds
Falling through the darkening clouds
My sacred message did arrive
And the neon sign said, “You’re safe and alive”
Again, I managed to survive
As my celestial angel glided by
Glowing upon the gilded wings of her dove
And loudly singing, she cried, “Don’t give up, my love”
Soaring above, she left me a feather
A quill to use, during my valley of rough weather
Her gentle persuasive reminder
To keep on writing, my own agenda
Life does matter, despite the hill’s jumbled mess
And there will be a deliverance from this jungle of stress
Ivor Steven (c) June 2020
Walking this burning deck
Life’s becoming a pain in the neck
Where’s that healing pill
A wellness, instead of this daily swill
Dribbling out of the great white one
Carrying on like a piece of dung
Crazy statements like, “Drink Dettol”
Spewing from his cake-hole
And stupidly, “You loot, we’ll shoot”
Sickly crap off his swanky boots
With a raised Bible in hand
A crooked lightning bolt struck our land
Ivor Steven (c) June 2020
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 