Tag: Poetry/Australia

Fifty years have flown bye

And I’ll never forget ‘American Pie’

It’s True, old rockers never die

Their music shall always fly

There above in Leonard’s Tower of Song

Where they are all singing along

Imagining John’s words were not wrong

Will our new lyrics be as strong?

Ivor Steven (c) October 2020

From here in Australia, I’ve been reading the stories about Mr Trump and his having contracted the ‘Covid’ virus this week, and his subsequent “miraculous/cure” recovery…. which seemed to remind me of this poem I wrote back in October 2017


Not Here nor There

My time is slowly passing.

Age is creeping, not lasting.

I’m frail and growing older.

My body shivers when it’s colder.

And sweats like hell, in the heat.

My mind is feeble and weak.

I don’t seem to remember.

Whether it’s March, April, or September.

Here I sit, what am I doing.

There I look, where am I going.

There I ask, what’s for tea dear.

Oh, I forgot, she’s not here.

Well best I retire to bed.

Wrest this weary head.

Under a linen sheet, like a white hood.

And lie here, on this piece of driftwood.

Ivor Steven (c) October 2017

This week’s Wednesday Challenge on Weekly Prompts is; STEAMED LENSES. Please go over and check out their fabulous site by clicking on this link >> https://weeklyprompts.com/2020/10/07/wednesday-challenge-steamed-lenses/ . The below poem is my response to the prompt…


Is There Love Behind Steamed-up Glasses Of Dread

Life is indeed a tangle web

Behind steamed-up glasses of dread

But finding an end to the masks loose threads

Eventually unbinds previous words misread



We are bruised and torn

We are the drowned unicorns

Hatred is trampling our weary souls

Love and healing should be our goals



Love is every season, and the ones in between

Love is every moonbeam, and the ones in between

Love is every sunrise, and the ones in between

Love is an afternoon sea-breeze, and the cool evenings in between

I know these visions to be a true call

Because I’ve looked into the wizard’s crystal-ball

Today I was up and going at sunrise

Preparing for an important check-up on my heart’s demise

Early in the morning an angel came and shaved my chest

Ready for the procedures arduous test

And I was wired-up and plugged in

Calmly listening to sounds of harps playing

Then I heard a tune by Leonard Cohen

And my mind was peacefully drifting



I’m smiling, I must have looked contented

My Doctor nodded in acknowledgement

Seeing my ‘muses’ T-shirt at the bedhead

Suddenly, faster and stepper I must tread

Until finally the machine slowed down

And I’m resting on the bed in my hospital gown

Waiting for my heartrate to normalise

Then the angel leans over and whispers, “you’ll see many more sunrises”

Ivor Steven (c) Sept 2020.

This new Fall fell

Leaving us no time to dwell

Nothing will ever be the same

Where’s the old Olympic flame?



The world’s bubble has burst

Pricked by a deflating curse

Then captured inside the owner’s empty purse

Are we spinning in reverse?



The snails have left their shells

Searching for a new citadel

Lugging the fading Olympic torch

Can the cauldron again light-up our front porch?

Ivor Steven (c) Sept 21020

This week over on Weekly Prompts, the Weekend challenge is;  Oddities. Please go over and visit their fabulous site by clicking on this link… >> >>https://weeklyprompts.com/2020/09/26/weekend-challenge-oddities/ . During the week I was live video-online chatting to my cousin from Bensalem, an outer suburb of Philadelphia, and “oddly” she was excitedly talking out her “Ladybug Farm Kit”, and how she going to be proud owner of newly born/hatched little ladybugs !!… She enthusiastically sent me photos of her new “little pets”. I’m smiling broadly to myself, and I told her “your quaint little oddity, has inspired me write an odd little poem about the ladybugs”….


A Ladybug Flies in From Bensalem

A scarlet caped ladybug

Lands on my sleeve and gently shrugs

Resting there, snug as a bug on a rug

And honouring me with love and soft hugs



Nature’s tiniest of goddesses

Who fans us with butterfly kisses

Quietly sharing good fortune and best wishes

Then silently flittering away to the next Hibiscus

Ivor Steven (c) Sept 2020

My body is beginning to tire

And I am in need of a new fire



Beyond the swallowing quicksand

Here now, I surely stand

Resurrected, upon solid ground

And what a maze destiny’s unwound

Inside my fading mind

Lays an old silver mine

Of tunnels yet to be found

Where unused treasures abound

Awaiting a silent command

From my lost soul’s dreamland

Ivor Steven (c) Sept 2020

Earlier today I was having an on-line video chat with my niece Kerri, in Philadelphia, and during our conversation, we often mentioned, how the world was going “crazy”. So here’s my “crazy” poem, inspired by my “crazy” Philadelphia relatives, Kerri, Joanne and Ken….


Half Normal and Half Crazy

The day’s cold and breezy

Phillip the penguin is going crazy

Excitedly clapping his wings

Waiting for our luncheon fling

He’s jumping and shouting

“We are going on an outing !!”



Despite our masks and the pouring rain

Time has come to leave our quarantine

And savour a fluffy carrot cake again

Drink hot coffee and fizzy champagne

Drown these hazy days of feeling lazy

And resurrect ourselves from going completely crazy

Ivor Steven (c) Sept 2020