Tag: Music

Throwback Friday, My Broken Mast, by Ivor Steven

Presenting another poem from my new book “Tullawalla”

ivor20's avatarGo Dog Go Café

I wrote “My Broken Mast” in January 2020, and the poem appears in my new book “Tullawalla”

My Broken Mast

Yesterday, a sudden stormy gale

Ripped through my leafy sail

And tore my oldest branch down

Crashing onto the ground

Leaving my main mast, hurtfully marred

A long open wound, and I’m painfully scarred

Mother, will dry my weeping tears

And I’ll recover to live another thirty years

Fatefully, my debris fell safely

All my owner’s guests escaped injury

And I left their ship damage free

Tomorrow they’ll clear my messy sea

Then rest under the shade of me

Ivor Steven (c) January 2020

ivor20

G’day, and welcome to my blog site. My name is Ivor Steven, I live in Geelong, Australia. I’m an ex-industrial chemist, and a retired plumber, and a former Carer of my wife(Carole), for 30 years, who suffered from severe MS. I Write poetry about those…

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Who’s Left to Row the Boat, (Tullawalla, page 37 )


Tullawalla is now available at Amazon
>> https://www.amazon.com/Tullawalla-Meeting-Memories-Australian-Languages/dp/0645377023/ref=sr_1_2?crid=2NUSUI90AWK6&keywords=Tullawalla&qid=1663851584&s=books&sprefix=tullawalla%2Cstripbooks-intl-ship%2C301&sr=1-2




Who’s Left to Row the Boat
… This week it is 22 years since I suffered my first stroke …


The storms are too many to count

Emotional lows had weathered me out

Her journey with MS was a struggle

How much lower could our lives sink


After fourteen years of our battles, I suffered a Stroke

An ambulance came, my brain was in a boat

Floating out to sea, overboard and panic-stricken

I wasn’t swimming, barely awake, and drifting

I had fallen, nothing was working, and not talking

She’s crying, I’m sobbing, my heart is dying

And who’s left to row the boat, I’m thinking

I was jabbed with a needle and silently sleeping


I awoke a day later, in hospital, feeling wasted

My face was limp, mouth parched, was that death I tasted

My mind was active, I thought, where is she

I knew I was bad; the room was all blurry to me

Strong anxieties had set in, I needed to know

Nurses came to me, I pleaded, I wanted to go

“Help me to see her, just give my bed a tow

Please let me go, before I’m covered in snow”






Ivor Steven (c) September 2022

In Your Time (a Haiku)


Tullawalla is now Available at Amazon
>> https://www.amazon.com/Tullawalla-Meeting-Memories-Australian-Languages/dp/0645377023/ref=sr_1_2?crid=1IICHBAUD55HH&keywords=Tullawalla&qid=1663803829&s=books&sprefix=tullawalla%2Cstripbooks-intl-ship%2C276&sr=1-2

A Haiku from Tullawalla, “Page 118”



In Your Time (a Hiaku)



You can’t fly pass time

Travel with time, hand in hand

Time is not faceless






Ivor Steven (c) September 2022

Miles From Home, is up at Spillwords Magazine


I am ecstatic that my poem “Miles From Home”, that I posted here on site only last week, has already been accepted and published at Spillwords Magazine today, and I am very grateful to the editor Dagmara for selecting my piece .. Pease go and visit my poem at Spillwords and if you wish, leave a 💗 for my article, by clicking on this link >> https://spillwords.com/miles-from-home/



MILES FROM HOME

written by: Ivor Steven

@ivors20

Today
I went left, instead of right
No matter what direction
Or decision I choose
At the end of day
There will be night
My time to rest
And remain out of sight

Tomorrow
I shall take the back roads
Miles away from my troubled life
Miles and miles
Beyond those evil eyes of strife

Tonight
I will sleep under the stars
With my loyal companion
By my side

Now
He gives me that inquisitive stare
“Don’t look at me like that
I know mate, I know
I should never have left the wife”






Ivor Steven (c) September 2022

I Wish, I Was Green, is up at Coffee House Writers Magazine

Hello dear readers and followers, I now write for “Coffee House Writers” magazine on a fortnightly basis, and my poem “I Wish, I Was Green”, is in this week’s edition of Coffee House Writers Magazine. … please click on the link below to read my poem, at Coffee House Writers.
>> https://coffeehousewriters.com/i-wish-i-was-green/









Ivor Steven ©  September 2022

One More Spoonful

On Weekly Prompts this weekend, the challenge word Glimmer. Please go over and visit their fabulous site by clicking on >> Here And is a poem I wrote back in January, that I thought to be suitable piece for the prompt …

Hello dear readers, I had a difficult time writing this poem, as my thoughts were jumbled and confused, but eventually after toiling away, I think the piece gradually developed into something resembling my initial dreamy thoughts … And then I could not make up my mind on the title, between “A Shining” or “One More Spoonful” ..





One More Spoonful

I was reading my never ending story

about crossing the rivers of time

and climbing a mountain of dreams

then along the crest of a misty waterfall

a mysterious rainbow appeared at dawn

as a shimmering glimmer of hope

and above my unreachable horizon

there was a shining

tempting me to turn around

and resume paddling upstream

to where I could savour

a spoonful of life’s cream






Ivor Steven (c) September 2022

Tullawalla Is Here!!

My old school-case from sixty-years ago, full of “Tullawalla Books”



My house has been invaded by “Tullawalla Books” … come over and join the party, and lets celebrate … my long awaited SELF-PUBLISHED new edition is NOW available
… contact me via my web-email >> ivorrs20@gmail.com The book is only $20.00 AU plus postage & handling. If you are interested in purchasing a book, send me an email, I’ll send a PayPal Invoice out to you.


This Fence (Tullawalla, page 33)


I am quickly nearing this fence.

An obstacle of a lifetime I see.

And from my side of this fence,

The hurdle is too high for me.

And on the other side of this fence,

There seems nowhere to land or flee.


I have arrived at this fence,

Above the pickets, just grey sky.

And on my side of this fence,

The grass is brown and dry.

On the other side of this fence,

The grass is green, but still I cry.

How am I to clear this fence,

There seems nowhere to go or get by.


This fence, all built of stones,

Breaks my spirit, and all my bones.






Ivor Steven (c) September 2022