We’ve been plodding in waterlogged boots
Even neighbours heard the squelch over the owl hoots
Daily we waded among flooding restrictions
But those wet chains were sad afflictions
Full of overflowing mistakes and contradictions
Stay true to your imaginations predictions
Ignore the backstabbers and haters
About time they removed their bibs and L-plates
Gargled their foul voices and cleaned the slates
About time they stopped acting like scared primates
Ivor Steven (c) Nov 2020
Yesterday I celebrated Oaks-Day and wore vivid pink
Who cares what the other guys think
Today I’ve dressed myself in white
Because my mood is happy and bright
Tomorrow I’ll look like a “Kiwi All-black”
To match the colour of my hat
No matter how we feel on the day
We all like to wear a different coloured display
So what’s so different about our outer coverings
To the way we express our skins colourings ??
Today’s poem is a copy of a comment that I wrote to Kate, of ‘CalmKate’, about her thought provoking poem “Colour”, https://aroused.blog/2020/11/06/colour/ , and big thank you to Kate for encouraging me to post my little anecdote as a poem on my site.
Featured Image: the creation universe based on al quran: SlideShare
Ivor Steven (c) Nov 2020
Here I stand on this unclothed land
Counting the grains of dying sand
Listening to nature’s howling sound
Of wind scrolling over barren ground
Gathering lost words from timeless channels
And I hear ancient chants within earth’s deepest funnels
Pushing songs of distant light through endless tunnels
Quietly echoing the multitudes voiceless struggles
Ivor Steven (c) Nov 2020
I’m running away from last night’s blue moon
Walking hot bitumen streets
Wishing I was up high in a balloon
On an old comfy rocking seat
I’m young enough to fly
Beyond yesterday’s cloudburst
Travel today’s distant blue sky
Above this land’s ongoing curse
Take my hand, come sail with me
Soar among other floating air-ships
Escape restrictions and disease
Free our hearts for the new script
Ivor Steven (c) Nov 2020
I’ve been listening to Amanda Palmer’s powerful song, “Drowning In Sound”, and reading her poetically brilliant lyrics, while I was scribbling some perplexing notes, and those puzzling words, later formed this poem….
Pondering Comprehension
I’m discombobulated
Listing and frustrated
All out of body sync
And my right hand’s spilling drinks
Quietly waiting for the great spirits
To observe another of my wobbly exits
The waddling penguin has seen it all before
Wondering how I found the front door
Despite my obvious lack of facilities
Confused, I ponder about the world’s disabilities
To collectively listen and comprehend
That the future depends on a cohesive blend
Ivor Steven (c) October 2020
Here where I sit and write
Under my cosy verandah
I now have a new clock
Hanging on a roof post
A purchase from the MS shop
With a large Parisian style face
Most of my courtyard items
Are fondly given names
And in keeping with my space-craft theme
“Ivor’s Time Machine In Micro Space” – (Itmims)
I’ve appropriately tagged the time piece
After the ‘MS’ initials, “My Space”
Ivor Steven (c) October 2020
I bought a clock yesterday, to hang under my verandah today. Now time is close at hand, giving me notice of her demands… This poem is a repost from this Time last year.
Time Needs No Commands
The white moon has fallen late
A new daytime awaits
Rollover out of dream time
Rollover to the edge of time
Leave midnight’s caressing lullaby
And discover the blue curtain sky
It’s time to stretch and yawn
It’s time to feel the misty dawn
Stand in front of time’s open hands
Stand stoically upon time’s ancient land’s
The cloudy skies of daylight do fly
As moments of time flow swiftly by
Time moves on, needing no command
The sands of time, wait for no man
Ivor Steven (c) October 2020
My poem is in response to a Halloween Prompt from Ingrid, at “Experiments In Fiction”, you can visit the Prompt and her site by clicking on this link >> https://experimentsinfiction.com/2020/10/24/eif-poetry-challenge-8-halloween-special/
The Reincarnation of a Pumpkin
My locked bubble is about to go boom
A year I’ve been a stranger in my own tomb
Under a pumpkin lid, hiding my gloom
Where my world was a rotting cave of doom
Now these orange walls are my life-giving womb
Being reborn like a smiling old groom
I’m breaking away from the master’s dead blooms
Escaping on the green witch’s magical broom
Flying over the full moon of autumn
Where I’ll be able to wear my mask and costume
Hidden under my orange Kaftan from Khartoum
And I’ll invade the newsrooms, and all the children’s bedrooms
Ivor Steven (c) October 2020
Time on the Moon With a Tea and Lime
now and then
I see the sunrise again
sip on tea and lime
and dream for a time
where are you old friend
hiding your face until the end
and I hear a distant tick-tock
buried under weathered rock
when it’s all said and done
my words fall one by one
inking blues, line after line
and I care not the time
and sand flows drop by drop
from the timeless clock
touching her silent cocoon
on the far side of the moon
Ivor Steven (c) October 2020
Todays poem is a repost from 2 years ago, and today my gorgeous plant Blue Statice (Limonium perezii Blue) is in full bloom again. And a year ago the poem was published in a local anthology called “Writeabout- Two”
My Blue Statice Blooms Today
Love is a dirty word when I’m alone
Nervously shaking to the bone
Hearing myself rattle unseen
Anxiously sweating, feeling unclean
Awakening, my eyes slowly open
Nightmares diminish, now forgotten
The wind carries sunlight through my dawn’s clouds
My courtyard flowers, stand radiant and proud
Listening, I hear the bird’s morning calls
My gloominess gradually stalls
Sounds of music vibrate the walls
Nature’s crescendos fill my heart’s empty halls
Love is a dirty word no more
Love is within my skins every pore
Ivor Steven (c) October 2020
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 