Dreamless

A poem from a previous bad back month, in December 2019, seems to be appropriate
as I head into the second month of frustrating inactivity … Sorry, readers and followers for my continuing blogging absense …

Dreamless

Tap, tap, feel the back pain again

The drizzling pulse of dreamless rain

Falling on a hard pillow, wet and stained

The misty clouds of sleepless brain

Rivers of visions, once crystal clear

Now flooded fields of dreamless fears

Cascading mirrors, once reflective and sheer

Now broken pools of dreamless tears

Ivor Steven (c) Dec 2019

Standing On Unstable Ground

Featured Photo: by Derrick Knight, and a sincere thank you to Derrick for permitting me to use his fabulous image here in collaboration with my poem. This is now our “40th” collaborative article, and our joint book “Perceptions” is now in the hands of my editor/publisher (Judy, from Jaymah Press), and hopefully, the book will be in print before Christmas

Standing On Unstable Ground

Do not make me laugh

The pain would cut me in half

Instead

Pass me yesterday’s leftover chaff

Alas

I cannot leave you an autograph

I am a wounded grey donkey

Standing on unstable ground

Feeling disabled and lonely

And my inner damage is yet to be found

Ivor Steven © August 2022

A Good Guide, 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 “A Good Guide”, 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/a-good-guide/

Ivor Steven (c) August 2022

Spring’s Renewal

Hi dear readers, I’ve found another poem that is in my files, but does not appear on my Website … now I am wondering what happened to my website entries between the 16th and 19th of October last year … it’s a mystery to me??

Spring’s Renewal

Spring has sprung again

With a burst of sunshine

Between old storm clouds and new rain

While life’s decor is being redesigned

Winter’s open wounds

Are washed clean

Last year’s fragile blooms

Are due back on the scene

Ivor Steven (c) August 2022

The World Could Be Falling Down

Here is a poem that is in my files, but does not appear on my Website, maybe I deleted the post accidentally …

The World Could Be Falling Down

I was walking in yesterday’s deluge

up a steep holy hillside

talking to my fading shadow

that was stalking deep puddles

while I was balking today’s thunderbolts

my knees were knocking in fright

and my hips were rocking like Noah’s Ark

while shovelling leftover manure in the dark

nature’s mocking the world full of old lonely hearts

and blocking the future’s already drowning restart

Ivor Steven (c) August 2022

Congregating Every Day

Hello dear readers and followers, this poem today is the first piece I have written for 3 weeks, after being unable to attempt any computer work because of my debilitating back pain. I’m afraid my back is still very sore, and this article has been put together via short sittings at my desk over the last 3 days. I think Derrick’s photos captured my imagination and stirred my tired mind to write something creative.

All Photographs, by Derrick Knight, and thank you once again for allowing me to reproduce your fabulous images here on my poetry site …
>> https://derrickjknight.com/2022/08/18/no-one-told-the-ponies/

And this is now our 39th poem/photograph collaboration, and a “Glossy Coffee-table” type book “Perceptions” is on the way, hopefully, available before Christmas.

No-one told the ponies

Congregating Every Day

There they patiently stand

Congregating every day

Outside the community shop

And the village letterbox

Most of them are posting

Food parcels to their equine relatives

Hungry and abandoned in the Ukraine

Others wait forlornly

For any news of encouragement

About the health and whereabouts

From their frightened families

Inside war-torn Ukraine

There they patiently stand

Congregating every day

Ivor Steven © August 2022

Echoes, Tullawalla, page 147

I can hear the echoes from Tullawalla sounding closer …

Echoes

My night’s sleep was calm and sound

Despite the deafening noise of echo’s lost a found

I heard the midnight owl singing

Replaying tunes, of last year’s bells ringing

My blankets had not been disturbed

As if my shadow had slept unperturbed

And my mind had been emptied of yesterday’s wind burns

Then my morning song whispered the words, “sunshine returns”

Ivor Steven (c) August 2022

Ukraine is in Pain (a Limerick)

Not really a humourous Limerick, this one is quite melancholy, reflecting my back pain over these last few weeks …

Ukraine is in Pain (a Limerick)

There was an old poet in pain

Who had been struck down by hard rain

He felt thorns in his back

Like a missile attack

Misguided shrapnel from Ukraine

Ivor Steven (c) August 2022

A Crack in The Wall, Tullawalla, page 40

Jaymah Press

COMING SOON! 10 SEPTEMBER 2022

Tullawalla A Meeting Place Where My Empty Hands Are Full of Memories and Rhymes
Poetry by Ivor Steven. Artwork by Kerri Costello

A Crack in The Wall

Placing yesteryear’s photos

In that bygone album

Cutting window holes

In today’s front door

Pasting forgotten memories

In the Bible, so forlorn

Packing tomorrows cases

Full of dusty dreams

Clutching torn curtains

Darkened to the outside world

Passing a crumbling brick wall

Weakened by the original fall

Ivor Steven (c) August 2022

If Only Walls Could Talk, Tullawalla, page 65

Tullawalla:

Illustration by Kerri Costello

Chapter 4

Humour, Wit, Sarcasm, And Christmas Stories

If Only Walls Could Talk

It’s true you know

Walls can talk

So I’ve been told

By a beautiful Rose

You’ll have to listen

Listen very closely

Put your ear against the wall

Use a stethoscope if you must

Listen to the wooden heart

Standing proud and tall

A rough soul rendered smooth

Layers of paint, every hue

Covering up dusty memories

Of hearts lost through years of cavities

Like the old Wailing Wall

You’re walking along a history hall

Your secrets, one and all

They’ve heard every gasp

Your children’s moans

And your lover’s groans

Ivor Steven (c) August 2022