I am not here to wait
For the world to finally rotate
Time for me is getting late
I am here to watch the grand parade
Eventually pass by my front gate
One day soon
After the next purple moon
Illuminates our children’s fearful tears
I will see those grandiose leaders
Calmly sit down together
On the peaceful banks
Of Lake Connewarre*
Connewarre; an Aboriginal word meaning ‘black swan’
Ivor Steven (c) February 2022
Featured Image Above: by Derrick Knight, who kindly allows me to reproduce his photos here on my poetry website …
A World Of Puppets (a Tanka)
Are we the puppets?
Punch and Judy’s without strings
Who’s contolling things?
As Putin’s a dummy too
Ask the children in Russia
Ivor Steven (c) February 2022
Can you hear the ghosts of Sunday?
“Sunday, Bloody Sunday”
From your distant country’s
On the edge of peace and tranquility
Within your rural trees of serenity
Beyond invisible borders of rivalry
Between oblivious inequality
From the old schoolyard bully
Overseeing an avoidable atrocity
Again another “Sunday, Bloody Sunday”
How can they forget history so quickly?
Featured Image: From Genius Lyrics. Tom Waits – Hell Broke Luce Lyrics | Genius Lyrics
“Hell Broke Luce”, by Tom Waits
I had a good home but I left
I had a good home but I left, right, left
That big fucking bomb made me deaf, deaf
A Humvee mechanic put his Kevlar on wrong
I guarantee you’ll meet up with a suicide bomb
Hell broke luce
Hell broke luce
Big fucking ditches in the middle of the road
You pay a hundred dollars just for fillin’ in the hole
Listen to the general every goddamn word
How many ways can you polish up a turd
Left, right, left, left, right
Left, right
Hell broke luce
Hell broke luce
Hell broke luce
How is it that the only ones responsible for making this mess
Got their sorry asses stapled to a goddamn desk
Hell broke luce
Hell broke luce
Left, right, left
What did you do before the war?
I was a chef, I was a chef
What was your name?
It was Geoff, Geoff
I lost my buddy and I wept, wept
I come down from the meth
So I slept, slept
I had a good home but I left, left
Pantsed at the wind for a joke
I pranced right in with the dope
Glanced at her shin she said nope
Left, right, left
Nimrod Bodfish have you any wool
Get me another body bag the body bag’s full
My face was scorched, scorched
I miss my home I miss my porch, porch
Left, right, left
Can I go home in March? March
My stanch was a chin full of soap
That rancid dinner with the pope
Left, right, left
Kelly Presutto got his thumbs blown off
Sergio’s developing a real bad cough
Sergio’s developing a real bad cough
Hell broke luce
Hell broke luce
Hell broke luce
Boom went his head away
And boom went Valerie
What the hell was it that the president said?
Give him a beautiful parade instead
Left, right, left
When I was over here I never got to vote
I left my arm in my coat
My mom she died and never wrote
We sat by the fire and ate a goat
Just before he died he had a toke
Now I’m home and I’m blind
And I’m broke
What is next
Lyrics by Tom
Ivor Steven …
I have a few thank you’s to accompay the writing of my piece “The Final Sunset”.
Firstly my opening stanza was written as a response to Susi’s inspiring post today, thank you Susi. https://iwriteher.com/2022/02/24/peace-please/ Thank you to David Redpath, for reminding me of Bob Dylan’s poignant protest song, “Masters Of War” , which I have attached below. https://highwaybloggery.com/2022/02/24/masters-of-war/ , and thank you to Derrick Knight for allowing me to use his stunning “Sunset” photo as my featured photo here on my site, https://derrickjknight.com/2022/02/24/the-assistant-photographer-saves-the-day/
The Final Sunset
Wrong versus right
War versus peace
Greed versus commonsense
Destruction versus harmony
Killing versus living
War is not the people’s choice
Is this to be our final sunset
Will she justifiably refuse
To open her golden eye
Upon another shattering dawn
Of our manufactured doom
Ivor Steven (c) February 2022
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 