Poems – Page 215 – Ivor.Plumber/Poet

“Villanelle For Our Time”

“Villanelle For Our Time”
Dear readers, if you are inclined, please read this magnificent piece, written by Leonard Cohen, a truly inspiring poem, displaying all of his brilliant craftsmanship.

From bitter searching of the heart,
Quickened with passion and with pain
We rise to play a greater part.
This is the faith from which we start:
Men shall know commonwealth again
From bitter searching of the heart.
We loved the easy and the smart,
But now, with keener hand and brain,
We rise to play a greater part.
The lesser loyalties depart,
And neither race nor creed remain
From bitter searching of the heart.
Not steering by the venal chart
That tricked the mass for private gain,
We rise to play a greater part.
Reshaping narrow law and art
Whose symbols are the millions slain,
From bitter searching of the heart
We rise to play a greater part.

Lines To Nowhere

My curtains were opened

I saw a setting eclipse

And I decided to walk

To the south side of the moon

Taking my own spoon

I heard there’s a cheese-cake tasting

A sweet crumbly base

Topped with blueberries and cream

Life’s not about lying in bed

I’ll meet you for a kiss

After school

Down by the old pool

Afterlife

Dear readers, as most of you might know , I’m in hospital, and now my energy levels are low, so there’ll be no new poems for a while. I’ll post a few of my older poems, today’s is “Afterlife” originally written July 2012.

Why am I so adamant that I need to fight

Feeling this chasm of pain every night

Why am I so adolescent about my plight

Longing for the love, the affection, of no-one in sight

Why am I so uncertain within myself

Desiring relief and a remedy for my health

Why am I so sorry for my lost time on the shelf

Pining after my souls drowned wealth

Why am I still shaken, afraid of life

Thinking there’s only loneliness without my wife

Why am I still heartsick, pierced like a knife

Wondering if there’ll ever be anymore afterlife

Hysteria

Yesterday’s ancient graves

Sent me a parting wave

Passing the higher fools

Leaving me to drool

My body was shivering

Bones were rattling

My leftovers are for the taking

Mum’s sponge-cake is baking

I need a change of attitude

A party at high altitude

Up here on level seven

Close to heaven

I could invite my unknown bacteria

Sing along to Leonard, sharing hysteria

Reverse the Smiles

Stop your smiles

I’ve slipped back three miles

No more well wishes

There’s only yesterday’s dirty dishes

Bake me my favourite cake

We’ll have to leave it til late

Nothing’s going straight

How long will I wait

Before I cry again

From my demon’s pain

He’s throwing me an unfair game

There’s no-one to blame

Oh What A Night, They Sent Me Home Tight

All My News. By: Leonard Cohen

Do not decode

these cries of line

They are the road

and not the sign

Nor deconstruct

my drugless high

I’m sober but

I like to fly

Then quickened with

my open talk

You need not pick

the ancient lock

From Leonard Cohen’s, Poems And Songs, produced by “Everyman’s Library Pocket Poets”. 1993

An Emergency Department View

Dear friends thank you, for all of your kind well wishes, they are sincerely appreciated, and warm my heart. I’m up in the wards now, and I’m recovering well. Oh, the nurses thought I was crazy, having a good laugh at me taking photos of my Emergency Department room.

Snugly comfortable and relieved

I’m taking photos from bed

Of where I might be

The white ceiling, my clear blue sky

Walls are pastures, giving me life

The floor is my way to oceans beyond

Blue-stone Cellar

Old wooden steps

Going down, worn and steep

Revealing a cellar, candle-lit

Walls of blue-stone blocks

With a stained cedar ceiling

Creating a friendly aura of closeness

Intimate and cosy

A perfect place for Mr Cohen’s spirit to be

Sweet Amie Brulee

Sings and plays his songs

And in between, graciously reads his poetry

Jovially chats to the audience

Relaxed and carefree

Her demure smile is spontaneous

Divulging stories about his works

With enthusiasm and passion

Infusing her own subtle wit and humour

A show of genuine warmth and charm

From his tower of song, Leonard would be pleased

The two video’s below, are with my Phone, a Samsung Galaxy S 5. Hopefully the cyberspace mail-man delivers them intact. The first video below, is of Amie recited Leonard Cohen’s poem, “Ballard of the Absent Mare”

The second video below, is of Amie, singing, “Leaving The Table”, sorry but you may have to turn the volume up.

“Where Have All The Good Times Gone”

A few days ago(29th Nov 2017), I had started writing a poem about Penny Farthing Bicycles, prompted by an article in the Geelong Advertiser newspaper, the arrival in Geelong of eight members of the Melbourne Bicycle Club in March 1880, as per featured picture above, courtesy of the Geelong Heritage Centre Collection. Then I was chatting with my friend Jane of Janebasilblog, she had just sent me the song and lyrics of the Mary Hopkin hit, “Those Were The Days”, from 1968, and I mentioned The Kinks were one of my fav’s from that era, and of course their song “Lola”. After our chat, I starting thinking [which is dangerous for me] about writing a crazy, combined, mixed up poem… The piece below is the result of those thoughts, and to my older readers, you’ll notice all the phrases written in Italic, are song titles taken from The Kinks album “The Kinks Collection”. So apologies to Ray Davies for using his song titles in such a manner. And thank you to Jane for providing me with the inspiration to actually write these jumbled up words. ** And now today(8th Nov 2018), this poem has been edited, and re-posted, as a response to CalmKate’s Friday Foto Fun – Wheels Or Circles.

“Where Have All The Good Times Gone”

I remember the olden times

Of pennies and farthings

Pounds and pence

When money made no sense

Mary Hopkins sang

“Those Were The Days”

And the Kinks song “Lola”

Was the best number one ever

Many a lazy Sunny Afternoon

Spent down near Waterloo Sunset

Where we would all dance

All Of The Day And All Of The Night

My Friends would all dress-up

Like Dedicated Followers Of Fashion

Unlike that lonely Plastic Man

Who faked the Death Of A Clown

Way back then, You Really Got Me

You fired me up, here in Victoria

Thousands of Days forgotten in the burn-out

Charred in a cloud of Big Black Smoke

But now, I’m Tired Of Waiting For You

Wondering, Where Have All The Good Times Gone

Ivor Steven

8th November 2018. 10.30pm

Inside Out

Perspective,

Weekly Word Prompt : This week’s word prompt is : Perspective.

This is an old poem of mine, The poem “Inside Out”, is more just a rhyme and a play on a few featured words. Over the road from were I once lived, there was a furniture shop, and the advertising hoarding was, “Inside Out, Exotic Furniture”, well I was sitting there waiting for the bus, and in my minds imagination, I changed the the words to “Inside-out, Upside-down, Erotic Furniture”, and hence my little anecdote was laid…. with a totally different perspective..

Inside Out

The view of my love seems upside down.

When I’m at the bottom of her flowing gown.

And my erotic picture appears inside out.

What’s this scenic love all about.

The ways of my love seem upside down.

When she’s on top, covering me ’til I drown.

And I’m underneath, neither in, nor out.

What’s this crazy love all about.

The river of my love seems upside down.

When I’m sitting inside her smiling frown.

And her foreign body hits me in and out.

What’s this exotic love all about.

The world of my love seems upside down.

When I’m laying below her pounding mound.

And her endless thrusts, feel inside out.

What’s this frenzied love all about.

Ivor Steven (c 2018