The Good, The Bad & The Poetry, by Joshua Maxwell de Hoog

Please note, that in the poem below , the words are not mine, but those of, ‘Joshua Maxwell de Hoog’, who has kindly given me permission to reproduce this excerpt from his book “The Good, The Bad & The Poetry”. Joshua is the convener, of the ‘lowercase poetry’ recital events here in Geelong. I’m honoured to be able to present his words on my site, and this piece below, is an excellent example of the style of his writings. For more information and stories about Joshua you may Google his link >>  joshuamaxwell de hoog.com

*

There is no word greater than another,

 

No word that only sleeps with the

king or is only spoken by the servant,

Or written on walls in the city by

rebellious teens

 

There is no word that fights in a war

with only fists,

 

Or sails the sea for love, or with love,

There is no word greater than the

mouth that speaks it.

 

There is no word more beautiful than

another,

 

There is no word that is paid to be

listened to, nor begs for attention, or

only cries, or only sleeps, or cries

itself to sleep.

 

There is no word more beautiful than

the mouth that speaks it.

 

There are merely words, and every

one of them as important as both the

next and the last, as pressing as

future, present and past, as human as

you, me or us.

 

And we too,

Are like words,

Sometimes we are together and seem

as if we’ve always been,

As inseparable as to-do or have-been

joined by the dash,

But other times we are distant, we

appear only in the beginning or the

end, or something in between, but

that means no less of us, for we are

still a part of the story, as essential as

any word that has already been

written or the ones that are still in

writing.

 

There is no word that goes unspoken,

that needs to be.

 

All things will happen in time, and to

force them, is to skip the most exciting

chapter.

There is no word that runs faster than

another, none that overtake or jump

the queue, all words honour the mind

in which they are from.

 

There is no word greater than another,

yet I will follow “you”.

*

*  Printed with permission from, Joshua Maxwell de Hoog…..

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  Feb 2020

Melody & Poetry

Here’s a poem I’ve written for ‘Go Dog Go Cafe’s’,  Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge. Today’s prompt: Write a story or poem that ends with the phrase “he shredded her dreams in dignified air of victory”

Friday evening I attended my first ever Melody and Poetry event at the Analogue Academy & Gallery. The new and interesting night developed into thoroughly enjoyable show, for both the musicians and poets. The poem I recited was “Lost On The River” , here’s the link >> https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2019/06/30/lost-on-the-river/

Melody and Poetry

 

The Gallery’s been darkened

And the room’s illuminated by faerie lights

The Melody and Poetry event begins

On stage, there’s a piano player and guitarist

Improvising their music, to each poet’s readings

And the enthusiastic crowd sings along

To the sheets of printed words

And the poet’s recital is resonating vividly

As he shredded her dreams

In a dignified air of victory

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  Feb 2020

A Red Bouquet

 

A Red Bouquet

 

The dawn sky’s a misty red

Mirroring my eyes, etched edges of red

T’was my dad’s anniversary yesterday

And I didn’t go to visit her, during the day

She adored dad, my darling redhead

So best I vacate this lonely bed

And select her some blooms from my flowerbed

 

My courtyard’s a sea of dazzling reds

A vivacious Begonia, called a Dragon Wing Red

Our gifted Geranium, glows a deep ruby red

And dad’s Day Lily, is a glossy red

I’ll create a bright red bouquet from the three

And place the flowers in our vase under her tree

 

 

Ivor Steven (c) Feb 2020

Tullawalla #15

Tullawalla, Nineteen Steps

Hello dear readers and followers, I’ve been away from blogging for three days, because again, I’ve been arduously  preparing and typing, to produce my Fifteenth 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 organization, 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 submissions, I also donate to the MS Society. Fantastic news this week, with a few more donations coming in lately, I’m proud to announce, that the sale of my “Tullawalla Booklets”, has now gone well pass $1000. 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  “613 poems”, in my collection of 15 Tullawalla Booklets. Anyhow the 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 web site page and I can chat about arrangements from there…. Oh, the booklet is called “Tullawalla:  “Nineteen Step”, and coincidently, this, the feature poem from  my the booklet was published by FREE VERSE REVOLUTION, on Friday, 8th, February… You can visit their fabulous magazine today!! Please click on this link >>    https://freeverserevolution.wordpress.com/                …. And here is the link to my website >> ivors20.wordpress.com

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Ivor Steven (c)  Feb 2020

Faeries Calming the Soul

Faeries Calming The Soul

 

Today’s cool breeze, has dried my eyes

And I’m comfy, under this shady palm

Watching, sparkling faerie ripples on the bay

And silvery clouds waving to me from the sky

I see faerie footprints upon ageless sand

And the town’s daily ferry-boat sails by

I’m bathing in this day’s caressing faerie balm

And my fragile soul’s reciprocating the calm

 

 

Ivor Steven (c) Feb 2020

Hello Mate

Happy birthday mate

No, I’m not late

I would have got that stare otherwise

No, never a cross word from your eyes

Everyday, the gentle guy

Yes dad, you were our sunrise

Kindness, compassion, a heart oversized

Yes dad, always by our sides

Everyday, you earned a Nobel prize

Yes dad, always loves in your eyes

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  Feb 2020

Gazing At The Amazing

 

Gazing At The Amazing

 

Thor startles me out of slumber

And I’m sheltering under my verandah

Sitting here naked as the day I was born

Gazing at the amazing weeping dawn

Crying a bucket full of raindrops

Spreading sparkles with every  wet plop

On the roof I hear a cascade from above

Big puddles are shimmering like leather gloves

Growing into a groundswell of high humidity

Soaking my body in sweaty liquidity

Then softly a caressing breeze cools my skin

While the courtyard garden’s sprouting wings

Nature’s evidence of the night’s heavy rain

And the heaven’s are opening up again

 

 

Ivor Steven  (c)  Jan 2020

 

Five Shades of Grey (Revised)

This weekend the Word/Photo Challenge for the monthly Colour Challenge, and for February the colour is Grey! (gray)… If you wish to join in the fun, go over and visit the Weekly Prompt’s site, by clicking >> Here

Today, I’ve attached two photos of our friendly grey marsupials, the Kangaroo’s and Koala’s. I’m afraid most of our marsupials have suffered massive losses during the horrendous bushfires this summer…..but I’m happy to report that most of the fire affected areas, have received significant amounts of rain today……and so my revised poem “Five Shades of Grey” is suitably appropriate for today’s welcome weather conditions…..

 

Five Shades of Grey

 

Daylight turns into night

Ravens scatter in mid-flight

Dark clouds overlay

Into five shades of grey

Thor’s hammer roars

His spark of fire, soars

Fiercely a flaming bolt strike’s

Piercing frightened psyches

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  Jan 2020

Alex

 

Alex

 

My trusty guardian

Shamefully

I’ve taken him for granted

That happy old chap

Who faithfully

Protects me

 

A loyal family friend

He’s always been around

Like an inherited heirloom

His age remains a mystery

He’s stoic and quietly stern

And I dare not ask him

 

The eternal keeper

Of our ancestral tree

Holder of heavens keys

Guarding life’s comings a goings

Waiting there, under shady leaves

Forever our courtyard centurion

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  Jan 2020