


Latitudinous
Today, spring swirled
And reversed back to cold
I was discombobulated
And felt sullenly too old
To cope with Mother Nature’s moodiness
And her mobility above the latitudinous
Ivor Steven (c) October 2023



Latitudinous
Today, spring swirled
And reversed back to cold
I was discombobulated
And felt sullenly too old
To cope with Mother Nature’s moodiness
And her mobility above the latitudinous
Ivor Steven (c) October 2023
I originally wrote this poem in January 2019, here today I have revised the piece for a second time.
Crooked Ways (Revision #2)
I’m not to be told, how to live my life
It’s been over a decade since having lost my wife
I’m not a great philosopher
Nor a modern fashion writer
I’m not a sprightly young surfer
Never clever enough to be bursar
Too old to be a toiling plumber
And these days I prefer to pen poetry
Some say you are never too old
Whatever, I shall always be bold
With my plans to reach for the stars
And continue to travel my crooked ways
Ivor Steven (c) October 2023
Over at Weekly Prompts, the Wednesday Challenge is the word: Identity … To visit their fabulous site, please click on >> Here … My poem below is an appropriate and poignant response to the Prompt
A Wounded Identity Badge
I am lying here on brown dirt
My human blood is trickling
From a new open-cut wound
Into this ancient and sacred ground
I have been shot!
Straight through my “Yes” vote badge
By a white man’s racist outburst
His rant was full of arrogance and hatred
My badge is damaged but not destroyed
My heart is bruised but not broken
I will steadfastly, forever vote “Yes”
Until eyes hear the sound of human decency
Ivor Steven (c) October 2023
I’ve been having computer problems for over a month and appropriately I have dug up this old poem and revised it … However, some good news today, my brother said that the computer is fixable and he has started the refurbishment process
Cyberspace and Melted Digitals
This crazy, distorted cyberspace
Can be a dishonest place
Like talking to aliens from outer space
False profiles with no trace
I dislike the blank screen’s cool embrace
Documents unreadable at the coalface
As if they’re hiding from the human race
Or that grand theft of the writer’s database
I’d like to tie together their ” Boot” laces
See them tumble and fall from grace
Straight down the duck-muck-covered staircase
And melt all their digital’s in the fireplace
Ivor Steven (c) October 2023
Saturday: My brother’s birthday party day


Frankie loves catching up with Aunty Tum


The birthday party feast


Frankie is impressed with the birthday cake.


Frankie makes himself comfortable after the party
Sunday: Ballarat’s Botanical Gardens & Lake Wendouree



It was time to visit the spectacular Botanical Gardens


With Frankie of course



The Picturesque Lake Wendouree



Frankie chats to the swan. Lawrie, Frankie, & me, sitting beside the Lake
Monday: Going back home to Geelong



Frankie’s happy in his car seat. The old Lal Lal Railway Station. The Lal Lal Falls Hotel



Frankie’s in his car seat. The historic Elaine Hotel. Elaine’s new Roadhouse Grocery Store.


The wind turbines near Elaine … but ironically, I’m running out of puff. It’s now 11.15pm Monday here in Geelong, and to produce this post has been a task on my little TV Computer … My desktop computer is back in Ballarat being repaired by my brother and the process could take a while …
My brother turned 71`and I turned 72 back in July, so this old Neil Young song seems appropriate for “Frankie’s Weekend”
Ivor Steven (c) October 2023




Today’s poem was inspired by Dwight’s thought provoking post this morning >> https://rothpoetry.wordpress.com/2023/10/07/embedded-pain
.
.
Trees Weep
.
Barbwire scrapes and creeps
Their wounds run deep
Trees stand there and weep
Humans turn a blind eye and sleep
Upon their own rusty scrapheap
.
.
.
.
Ivor Steven (c) October 2023
FREE PDF COPY >>> Links Below
Hello, dear readers and followers, as you might know I stopped producing my “Tullawalla Booklets” at # 31, because that was the house number of our family’s Tullawalla Homestead.
But the booklet formats are a superb way for me to catalogue the vast number of poems that I produce and as the saying goes “I Am Turning Another Page”. Here I have begun a new series of poem booklets, and they are called “Shangri La” which is the name of my little Villa, and is my piece of “earthly paradise, a retreat from the pressures of modern civilization”.
Incredibly, I now have a total of “1547” Poems filed in these booklet formats!!
Click on >> HERE for the link to your FREE: PDF Copy of “Shangri La, Volume 4. A Timeless Zone“


I stood alone in my second-hand clothes
holding her worn out soul
gently, I slid her urn
into that hollow
inside the brick wall
a moment of heartache
hidden in a chasm of pain
stone-faced again
I stood alone in my timeless zone
not wanting to go home
Ivor Steven (c) October 2023
Hello dear readers and followers, I am now writing for “Coffee House Writers” magazine on a fortnightly basis, and my poem “Timeworn”, is in this week’s edition of Coffee House Writers Magazine. …
To Read my poem, please click on the link below to visit the article, at Coffee House Writers Magazine.
>> https://coffeehousewriters.com/timeworn/
“Timeworn” … An interesting song by the French group ‘Wildpath’ to accompany my thought-provoking poem.
Ivor Steven (c) October 2023
Hello dear readers, this weekend, I am going to Ballarat for my brother’s Birthday, and I’ll be taking my ‘Duck Muck’ computer box with me. Hopefully, my whizz brother will be able to repair it. So, that means I’ll be relatively quiet here on my ‘website’ until my errant computer is up and running again.
Feature Images: The gorgeous photos of the horse wearing ‘a crown and necklace’ is reproduced here on my poetry site with the kind permission of Derrick Knight >> https://derrickjknight.com/2023/09/27/polishing-the-car/


The Forest Monarch
She roams New Forest
Like a natural born monarch
A true native of the land
She’s glamorous and charismatic
A perfect heir for nature’s game of thrones
A noble horse for our country’s warring forces
Ivor Steven © October 2023
Today I am presenting the ‘Epilogue’ poem that will be appearing in my new book “Until Eyes Hear Sound”. and “My Cloudy Vision” is a poem I wrote in September 2018, and it will be the finale piece in the Book.
Please Note: the photo attached below, is the proposed cover design for my new book “Until Eyes Hear Sound”, created by my niece Kerri Costello – Philadelphia.

Epilogue. My Cloudy Vision
I am trying to write myself a Mission Statement
Feels like a speech I need to practice in the basement
I have never been good at making speeches
They are messy, like eating mushy peaches
When I first began writing poetry
My main aim was to teach myself to read and write again
Several years ago, I suffered a Stroke
Times become tough, depression drowned this bloke
Poetry became a form of self-therapy
I listened to music and inspirational lyrics
Leonard Cohen’s songs were always playing
I fervently keep writing
My life became centered inside a small sphere
While also caring for my lovely wife, her MS was severe
Writing was my retreat, a place of solace
My world was narrow, I was skating on thin ice
Ten years ago, my wife did pass
My heart turned to water on glass
Then I heard Leonard singing again
His music and words were not in vain
I resumed drafting my poems
Grieving, words were sad and solemn
Healing takes time
Soulfully I wrote more rhyme
I joined local writers’ groups
My words were out there, under readers boots
On a prompt, I started a website six years ago
My confidence grew, I came in from the snow
Wondering what my goal is, where do I go
There are many answers, I do not know
In the future, I believe a poetry book or two
I have volumes of poems waiting in the queue
This is my story
My life’s journey
Of cloudy visions
My words, my mission
Ivor Steven (c) October 2023