Tag: Poetry/Australia

Brave Heart (Revised)

“In the confusion we stay with each other, happy to be together, speaking without uttering a single word.” –
Walt Whitman


Brave Heart

I always remember

The last time I saw the sun

I always remember

The last time I saw you run

Yesterday I remembered

The colour of your eyes

Yesterday I remembered

The colour of our brilliant sky

Today I remembered

The happiness in your smile

Today I remembered

The happiness of our every mile

Tomorrow I will remember

The final beat of your brave heart

Tomorrow I will remember

The unread pages of our lost charts





Ivor Steven (c) 17th April 2021

Gracious Lady (Revised)

Nine years ago today, I took my lady to the hospital for the last time, finality was on the way, and the day was her Birthday… and two weeks later, she gracefully passed away….

Gracious Lady


There is a lady on the horizon

Slender against the dusk

Sliding down with the sun

She vanished in the daytime

Hiding between the dawn

And the fading moon


A quiet and gracious lady

Who would relax on her old garden seat

There between her lily pond

And her faithful dog

Waiting graciously to be set free

Far beyond her flowering wattle tree


Forever glowing, my brightest light

Forever shining, on my darkest nights





Ivor Steven (c) April 17th 2021

The Villain In Me

The poker faced cameraman said cheese

I thought, “I will have swiss cheese please”

The starter said, “Get on your marks”

Secretly, I was ready to fart

The referee pointed and said, “Get off the pitch

I swore, “Not my fault the guy was a bitch”


The train conductor said, “Who pulled that emergency cord?”

As I speed down the corridor on my skateboard

The teacher said, “Who wrote that silly limerick on the blackboard?”

And I hid behind the brick wall listening to Pink Floyd

The grumpy lecturer said, “Who lit that smoke-bomb in the Library?”

I was last seen mischievously rescuing the principal’s secretary




Ivor Steven (c) April 2021

Tomorrow’s Song

“The strongest and sweetest songs yet remain to be sung.” – Walt Whitman


Tomorrow’s Song


When I am old

Or, when I am older

Not if, but when

Alone my later years I will spend

I will listen to music at home

Croon along with Leonard Cohen

Read dusty books by poets and champions

Write simple words about bees and lions


When I am old

Living on leftover fools gold

I will hobble down smooth paths

Sip on tea and savour Guinness draughts

And thank my tiring tongue

For hungering what I have left undone


When I am old

Shivering from the cold

I will silently snuggle up in bed

Quietly chase dreams in my head

And thank my fading mind

For seeing what I have left behind





Ivor Steven (c) April 2021

Is There Enough Time?

“The poet judges not as a judge judges but as the sun falling around a helpless thing.”
― Walt Whitman

Is There Enough Time?




I slept half awake during the night

And dawn arrived through half open sight

I began the warn morn half dressed

I bathed and stepped halfway into my best

I opened the front door halfway

And half peered down the sunny pathway


And I asked the half world of day light

Is half a day of sun, enough foresight?


Enough time to repair the world’s wrongs

Enough time to walk every worn furlong

Enough time for the living to grow strong

Enough time to write the next happy song




Ivor Steven (c) April 2021

Invisible Why and When

At the moment I am reading Walt Whitman’s ‘Leaves of Grass and Selected Poems and Prose’ that I borrowed from the Geelong Library, and after reading only 60 pages, I am aready amazed enough to go ahead and purchase a copy for my bookshelf, and his writings motivated me to write the below poem today…




Invisible Why and When


In the midst of my life

I am still using her carving knife

Between here and there

I am still climbing through the air


Between blank lines and my velvet pen

I am still writing about invisible why and when

Between whom I hear and what I see

I am still searching for the olive tree


Between her star and the dark side of the moon

I can still reach the man with a silver spoon

Between her broken mirror and my empty glass

I can still feel the universe in a blade of grass





Ivor Steven (c) April 2021

Dumping Our Sumps

My Belmont Page Creative Writing Group is held on Thursday’s, and our ‘Thought Prompter’ sentence for this week is ‘Time to put the garbage out.’ and below is my response that I shall be reading to the group tomorrow

Also, This week’s Wednesday Challenge on “Weekly Prompts” is the word: RUINED MERCHANDISE. Please go over and visit their fabulous site by clicking >> Here.



Dumping Our Sumps


Our garbage bin is full to the top

And overflowing with filthy slop


Contaminated dirt is spilling onto the tarmacs

Nuclear waste is seeping through the cracks

Dead batteries melt into poisonous wax

As empty aerosol cans add to our air’s death tax

Plastic bags are filled with grubby plastic packs

Eventually resurfacing as our oceans strangulation traps


Where do we dump our polluted fallout?

When will it be time to put the garbage out?





Ivor Steven (c) April 2021