Category: Poems

Shangri La, (this is a replay)

 

I personally like this poem, so I am presenting the piece again for you to read…

 

Shangri La

 

I’m not on a desolate island

My head is not buried in the sand

And I am not going crazy

You might be crazier than me

Because I saw you reading about

How to fly overseas

 

I used to be the sanest

Old man in town

You could always find me

On top of Mount Everest

 

Now I’m locked away

In between my two ears

Playing one handed ping pong

In between crowd-less cheers

Listening to musical ding dong

In between my poetry and beers

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  April 2020.

Shangri La

On “Weekly Prompts” the word: Desolate, is the weekend challenge. Please go over and visit their fabulous site by clicking >> HERE… Below is my response to the their prompt.

 

Shangri La

 

I’m not on a desolate island

My head is not buried in the sand

And I am not going crazy

You might be crazier than me

Because I saw you reading about

How to fly overseas

 

I used to be the sanest

Old man in town

You could always find me

On top of Mount Everest

 

Now I’m locked away

In between my two ears

Playing one handed ping pong

In between crowd-less cheers

Listening to musical ding dong

In between my poetry and beers

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  April 2020

There’s A Kink In My Stairway

The battle never seems to end

As the fight continues to ascend

Life’s journey is full of lumpy meals

Like bitter and sweet lemon peels

 

Under the crusty topsoil

Ancient Earth is on the boil

Spewing out contagious oils

Being spread by lowly hydrofoils

The world’s on pause and in turmoil

Needing a big dose of Castor Oil

 

A friend calls, in-between the bedlam

Hello, I welcome, your welcome

We wish each other a chirpy day

I’m smiling and happily humming away

My music’s playing, volumes on seven

A ninth replay of ‘Stairways To Heaven’

I’m teary and starting to over-think

Must be time for the ‘Kinks’, and my next drink

 

 

 

Ivor Stewven (c)  April 2020

The Sun Arose Again

There must be a number of silent masks around

Yesterday an old mask flew away at the speed of sound

From behind, the real pieces of what we perceive

Are leftover bones, bleached by sky and sea

Where the worn pebbles lingering in the hand

Fall gently upon lines drawn in the sand

And these new beginnings could be a heavenly gift

As white doves soar above the mourning cliffs

 

Perhaps  the next awakening will be a peaceful one

Full of friendly compassion and wisdom

I’m lucky today, the sun arose again

To light up the hallway, despite the rain

I’ll be the first one to walk out the door

And the only one left here, to see her valour

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  April 2020

Screaming From the Hills

For this week’s Wednesday Challenge from “Weekly Prompts” they’ve chosen the word: HABITS… Please go and visit their fabulous site by clicking >> HERE…Below is my response to their prompt…. again my poem has taken an abstract look at one of my old habits….

 

Screaming From the Hills

 

Time for the car and I to leave the garage

And drive to the old mountain range

Many years have passed and been spun around

Since I stood atop that ancient mound

And cleared my lungs from inside the clouds

Yelling hallowed words to distant crowds

 

I’d listen for the valley to answer so loud

A thousand voices echoing so proud

Me, with my cheeky grin, commanding the world

To hear those profound words that I had hurled

 

If not to the world, then to all within range

As I screamed. “Peace and love are not estranged”

But was I only a foolish dreamer on a hill

Rewriting and rebounding old habits from my quill

 

 

Featured Image Above: A photo of the low-lying mountain range, the ‘You Yangs’ which are only 20mins from my home… https://www.tripadvisor.com.au/Attraction_Review-g255098-d627257-Reviews-You_Yangs_Regional_Park-Victoria.html

Ivor Steven (c) April 2020

Weariness

I’m not one, to feel depressed

This is more an aura, of been oppressed

 

Bones are aching

Muscles are throbbing

And I feel like I’ve run a marathon

But I’ve hardly ventured out into the fray

Here I am in isolation

Wondering about the sun’s X-rays

 

I’m not one, to feel depressed

This is more an aura, of been oppressed

 

I’ve a thumping headache

My misty eyes are tired

And I feel like I’ve rewritten the Bible

But I’ve only been writing a poem a day

Here I am in isolation

Wondering about my future’s stairway

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  April 2020

Full Circle (Again)

Full Circle 

Autumn leaves are falling

But there you are, stoically flowering

Despite a dry season of suffering

You’re proudly alive and thriving

What is it?

Is it a notion? To defy nature’s calling

What is it?

Is it a potion? To help those surviving

Are you the antidote?

For healing the dying

Have you an answer?

To resuscitating the living

Ivor Steven (c)  April 2020

Once Upon A Time

 

Once Upon A Time

 

The evening cloudy sky

Is glowing your colour red

My night’s ground is trembling

I hear an unearthly gale blowing

From where the half moon is howling

And I see your star is shaking

 

No, my dearest

I’ve not forgotten

You’re rattling my windows

Earlier than normal

Then that’s definitely you

Always ready and on time

 

I’ve yet to pick new flowers

For your pure white vase

Yes, forever watching over you

These years have flown

But today, feels like tomorrow

My memory tears

Are all for you

And I’m still singing your song

Ivor Steven (c)  April 2020