Category: Poems

Do I stay, end up in a geriatric room

or do I fly away to the moon

Live in a cottage by the sea

surrounded by mountains and palm trees

I’ve hundreds of dreams to do

I could take a lady friend too

Marry and honeymoon at Niagara Falls

travel to China and walk the wall

See the sights at our National Park, Kakadu

take a spiritual tour of Kathmandu

Cruise the beautiful European rivers

or just globe-trot anywhere I please

What does the future hold for me

I’d like to be healthy and carefree

Writing poetry like the muse Melpomene

reciting to the world, about her secret key

 

Featured Image:  Bing images, COGnitivecreations_guardianangel.jpg

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

If you could foresee one accomplishment in your future, what would you like it to be?

Her Secret Key.

 

Do I stay, end up in a geriatric room

or do I fly away to the moon

Live in a cottage by the sea

surrounded by mountains and palm trees

I’ve hundreds of dreams to do

I could take a lady friend too

Marry and honeymoon at Niagara Falls

travel to China and walk the wall

See the sights at our National Park, Kakadu

take a spiritual tour of Kathmandu

Cruise the beautiful European rivers

or just globe-trot anywhere I please

What does the future hold for me

I’d like to keep healthy and carefree

Writing poetry like the muse Melpomene

reciting to the world, about her secret key

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

A special poem I wrote, after I’d taken my Lady to hospital for the last time, on the day of her last birthday. Happy Birthday Carole, and I wonder if you still wonder that I wonder.

Under The Snow.

 

We emanate to a birthday.

We deflate to a final day.

Birthdays, they all come, they all go.

Birthdays, in the sunshine, under the snow.

Birthdays, slow to mature, quickly an aeon.

Birthdays, before we are born, after we are gone.

Birthdays, hanging on by a breath.

Birthdays, nailed to a cross ’til death.

What’s it all mean to be alive and cry.

What’s it all mean to live and to die.

 

Ivor Steven. (c)  2018

My darkest past

lives within

my brightest cast,

life’s new day is my win.

 

I’m back to reality

a speck in the crowd,

writing about my journey,

dreaming aloud.

 

Dreamtime

is the best time.

 

Giving my heart away

an endless risk

enduring my every day,

an everlasting kiss

caresses my stay,

do you feel my bliss.

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

I’m reclining on poolside deck

reading Brendan Ryan’s book*

observing fellow passengers

strolling past, some bustle along,

others meander by,

gazing around and carefree

relaxed, soaking in tropical sunshine

they all smile and say Hi

Penelope and her mother Dianne

stop for a chat

we agree, a nice place to sit

meet friends made on this ship.

 

We’re in port, at Lifou Island

Tenders take us ashore

I’ve Robert Okaji’s book** in hand

to read while laying on pure white sand,

another glorious day on the beach

the air is warm and humid

a pleasant cool breeze

wisps across my brow

 

*, **, Book covers below.

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

The apple I ate today was pure white

did I do wrong, or was I right

to have the adulterated bite

knowing all eyes have imperfect insight

 

It’s a crying shame

that dreams aren’t the same

who’s to blame

for this loveless game

please give us some hope

so we may live to cope

 

The cracks are dark holes

chasms to the soul

leaking emotions of old

needing warmth from the cold

 

We all have our worth

here on mother earth.

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Yellow

There she silently stays

Baking under daily sun-rays

An old warriors chariot

Vehicle of love and riot

Deliverer of play and gain

Carrier of our angel in the rain

A working yellow submarine

Shipping friends and our queen

Transporting them all

Here and there, having a ball

 

Green

I’m green with envy

Overnight, mother natures been

Healing my poison ivy

A miracle potion unseen

 

Mosaics of Autumn leaves

A queens robe of gold and brown

Warm quilts from the trees

Nurturing globes in the ground

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Oh, how I do over stretch

then like a faithful dog

I return after the chase and fetch

balancing life on a rolling river log

 

I was waiting last year

waiting last month

waiting last week

waiting yesterday

I’m waiting again tonight

I might as well keep waiting

Wait for what I’ve been waiting for

 

To see a crack in the wall

to stop your fall

may you grow tall

as the light calls

 

Anger is danger

anger is not love

danger is heavy

danger is not love

love is respect

love is not crushing

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Asleep, out of view

dawn blazes through

blinds me from above

piercing my dreams of love

uncovering lines between sheets

exposed to the morning beat

letters sprinkle upon my pillow

inking words over loose halo’s

 

Reflective pages and blotches

wooden posts and hollow notches

under cracked leggo blocks

narrow jargon and hidden plots

inside poems of mine

glazed with her starshine.

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

I’m reading sacred scriptures

searching for her leftover pieces

I drank a mango smoothie instead

to feed my word starved head

 

I’m following the score

winners cheating on soft hearts

Demons covering the doors

and angels cannot reach the charts

 

I’m laying her on a massage table

listening to a sad amble

I prod her skin deep

Shoulders, down to her feet

 

I’m rubbing salve over her soul

cleansing her masking sheet

Revealing wounded sandholes

bruised upon a pebble beach

 

I’m a healer who’s lost

Gravitated by her sorrow

How do I catch a falling arrow

And mend her broken cross

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018