Tag: Music/singer/songwriters

Unsheltered

Sheltering

Under my bed-covers

Engulfed by a shadowy moon

Awake too soon

Mind’s out of tune

 

Sheltering

Under my verandah roof

Hiding from the morning sky

Where you won’t see me cringe and cry

Wings have been clipped, I cannot fly

 

Sheltering

Under my courtyard tree

Avoiding the winter sun

No !  not another rerun

White gowns, again undone

 

Sheltering

Beyond my distant horizon

Bypassing the grey clouds above

Nurturing my foxgloves

Surviving the touch of her love

 

Ivor Steven (c)  August 2019

 

Awakening Bolt

I’m patiently waiting

In my Neurosurgeon’s rooms

The visit should’ve been a scheduled check-up

But here I am, explaining yesterday’s jolt

I had an episode whilst driving

I nearly caused an accident

I blacked out for a second

I lost power in my stroke affected arm and leg

I started to panic

I had to stop and rest

Fortunately I experienced

An immediate awakening

My senses came back

My quickened heart-rate slowed down

My specialist has banned me from driving

I’m to undergo scans next week

I’m confused and upset

I’m blessed and unhurt

There’ll be a week of having tests

Then I’ll be waiting for the results

Hopefully the outcome will be positive

And the awakening lightening bolt, was heaven sent

Ivor Steven (c) August 2019

A Golden Love Story

I’m flying above the clouds silver lining

Layers of soft grey velvet

Travelling beyond the sky’s golden horizon

Searching for my heavenly star

Bright as the golden sun

To warm my soul with that blanket of love

Sewn together by golden threads

Crafted by her sacred hands

Resilient as violin strings

Playing a tune, on an angel’s golden harp

Praising the sound of faeries wings singing hallelujah

Resonating a melancholy song upon the gold dust in my blood

Restoring my sleeping heart of pure gold, to restart

Remembering the last chapter, of my golden love story

 

Yesterday I was introduced to an interesting form of poetry, by Irma of ‘I Do Run’….. from her friend Jason,  “Jason also introduced me to the Hay(Na)Ku poetry from. It is similar in brevity to the Haiku with three lines but the word (not syllable) count is 1-2-3. The Hay(Na)Ku was created by a Filipina poet named Eileen Tabios in 2003   ”  . So here is my first go at ‘Hay(Na)Ku’… below…..

Pure:

Love

True gold

Life’s cycle

And the same song by Amanda Palmer, this time with the lyrics, however I still become teary with both of these versions, the video above is a glorious visual experience, and below, reading along with the lyrics is also a moving experience……I enjoy both…..

Ivor Steven (c) August 2019

Tullawalla Booklets, at “Grill’d” On Pakington Street

Here I am at “Grill’d” On Pakington Street

Enjoying a few relaxing beers

I introduce myself to Ryan, chef and barman, in charge

We chat about our travel adventures

Then I happened to mention that I’m a writer

And he’s genuinely interested in my poetry booklets

After talking about the purpose of my writings

Ryan enthusiastically agrees to display a couple of my books

On the restaurant’s customer magazine rack

I’m humbled, and smiling, beyond pleased

I explain to Ryan, there’s an advert inside the covers

Informing the readers, that they may purchase the books

A few blocks down, on Pakington Street

At the counter of the M.S. Charity shop

With all proceeds going to the M.S. Society

I gratefully shake Ryan’s hand

And I say I’ll be back regularly, to change-over the booklets

Cheers To Ryan, and a sincere thank you to “Grill’d” On Pakington Street.

 

Please take the time to Click on this link to find out more about, “Grill’d” On Pakington Street.  https://www.grilld.com.au/restaurants/victoria/geelong/pakington-st#GoogleLocal

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  August 2019

Rain Again

Sunday morning and the cold rain is still falling from the sky. Looks like our wet winter began way back in May, however despite the freezing weather, I’m dressing-up in my winter woollies and venturing out again today…… and I graciously accept this is our fate for the next few days, as I continue participate in life, in every-way, of everyday….   Below I’ve re-posted some of my wintry  poems and Haiku’s that I’ve recently written……

 

Rain In May

 

The day is one of rain.

Washing streets of thoughts down the drain.

Cleansing the stains.

Flooding the silence again.

The day is dismal and grey.

Drowning the sun, it begun in May.

Many years full of dismay.

Pouring rain’s, here to stay

 

 

Cold Rain

 

Time’s, I played in rain

Today I worked in the cold

Wet and shivering

Autumn’s fat rain drops

Have lost their warmth and softness

Winter’s hard as ice

 

Haiku: Winter Rain

 

Chilling winter rains

Heavy big drops of coldness

Spread by icy winds

 

Haiku: Hail And Sun

 

Hail slaps the pavement

Bitumen puddles shimmer

Winter sun bursts through

 

Ivor Steven (c)  August 2019

Unusually Cold

Friday Fun – unusual.

For the prompt site by CalmKate, please click >> Here

Unusually Cold

Dawn sounds like a howling wolf

Thudding noises hit the roof

Icy fat rain drops

Heavy sleet doesn’t stop

Pouring, overflowing buckets and frozen cups

Shovelling hail from my front steps

The coldest winter is here to stay

Polar blizzards everyday

Freezing puddles abound

Feet splash on the cold, cold ground

A week of remaining inside

This time, the weatherman hadn’t lied

Ivor Steven (c) August 2019

Finger-tips Cracked And Dry

I’ve blue glue hands

My palms lack oiling glands

Finger-tips cracked and dry

Too many days, under cold sky

Working too hard

Forgetting my courtyard

 

I’ve writer’s cramp

At my desk under neon lamp

Finger-tips cracked and dry

Too many hours, pass after shut-eye

Writing ’til midnight

Editing never goes right

 

I’m not over straining

Recovery plans, are still in training

Finger-tips cracked and dry

Too many dreams, learning how to fly

Reading poetry all night

Regaining my old mind and insight

 

Ivor Steven (c)  August 2019

Long, Long Way

I’ve come a long, long way

I remember the bad, bad days

When yesterday’s were dark and grey

On level seven, under heaven’s archway

 

Laying there immobile and prone

Waiting for the etching of my headstone

Unable to call an angel on my phone

 

Unknowingly, my silent message, spun out of the cyclone

I awoke inside a comfortable twilight zone

Slowly realising I’d been saved, and finality was postponed

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  August 2019