My stomachs rumbling
Upset and tumbling
I’ve been swallowing lumps of dark chocolate
And guzzling black coffee from stained goblets
The grey smokey clouds of yesterday
Have stuck around like muddy brown clay
Has this captain midnight moved into stay?
Will charcoal pencils write about peace today?
Ivor Steven (c) June 2020
.
My smokey eyes have been faltering
Sad necessary tears have me wavering
Looking down the knife-edges
Balancing on red cliff-edges
.
How will the fog of darkness be lifted?
From angry souls that have drifted
Mirror, mirror, who’s the saddest
Mirror, mirror, where is forgiveness
.
The heart-breakers came around
Killing a black-rose on the ground
Deep down we all feel hollow
And none can see the peace-smoke halo
.
.
Ivor Steven (c) June 2020
Is there a song?
Between who is sad, and who is wrong
Beyond this prolonged swan song
How long, is too long?
Along these throngs of torch songs
Headstrong, and head-on
We know their theme song
We are all in the wrong
Oh. We, are the wrong
Listen to the birdsong
Listen to her lifelong song
Listen to nature humming along
Ivor Steven (c) May 2020.
“We, The Drowned”, Lyrics by Lisa Hannigan
We know not the fire in which we burn
But we sing and we sing
And the flames grow higher.
We read not the pages which we turn
But we sing, and we sing, and we sing, and we sing
We, the wrong,
We the sewn up and long gone,
Were before and all along
Like this
We, the drowned
The lost and found out,
We are all finished again.
Opening a Can of Flammable Worms. A ‘Gogyohka’
Anger ignites smoldering flames
A white-man’s racist hatred to blame
The volatile reaction follows
Requiring a King’s pacifying halo
Not a cane, you stupid man
Gogyohka, (pronounced go-gee-yoh–kuh), was created by Enta Kusakabe in Japan. It is a “five-line poem” or “song” with no no fixed syllable pattern. It can be written on any subject and use of ordinary, simple language is encouraged.
Ivor Steven (c) May 2020
What a difference
Twenty four hours makes
I’m back, on this other side
Of the world
I woke up dreaming
In the southern hemisphere
Feeling inside out
And upside down
I’ve gone from a warm evening
To a freezing morning
I’ve travelled in time
And I’m struggling to find my rhyme
I left my new family behind
All so generous and kind
There’s many stories to be written
About that friendly new kitchen
Now I’m having breakfast alone
But here I am, home sweet home
Ivor Steven (c) 2019
It’s Time To Leave
It’s time to tidy up my mess
Clean up the room and get dressed
It’s time to pack my suitcase
Fill the travel bag and vacate this place
It’s time to put on my famous rocker shoes
And walk away from this dream come true
It’s time to say heartfelt goodbyes
To these wonderful Philadelphia guys
It’s time for final hugs and kisses
Sad farewells and best wishes
It’s time for my usual emotional tears
Separate myself from these every day cheers
It’s time to flyaway from a land of Dragons and fairies
Leave this magical world of faraway families
It’s time to say a million thank you’s
For making my stay a Really Real great do
It’s time for me to travel back home
With glorious memories of this mystical thunderdome
Ivor Steven (c) May 2019
On “Weekly Prompts” their weekend challenge is: Story. Please go and visit their fabulous site by clicking >>HERE…. And below I’m continuing my “Story” about my trip to Philadelphia in May last year, via a collection of my poems and haiku’s …
Wet Flowers of May
Philadelphia rain
Like a rattling freight train
Wet fat drops
That didn’t stop
Watering flowers on mother’s day
Sharing the liquid joy of May
Haiku: Family History
Boxes of photos
Memory lane in my hands
Decades of stories
The Golden Pot
I’ve travelled to the end
Of yesterday’s rainbow
I found the golden pot was full
Full of warm hearts
The pot of hearts was overflowing
With ladles full of kindness
And their kindness was a cascading
River of magical rainbows
Haiku: We Lost The Sea
Bridges of dreams crossed
The ocean and river spanned
Waters of love found
Ivor Steven (c) May 2019
On this weekend, a year ago, I was in the 4th week of my stay with my cousins in Philadelphia…. and I think my body was living on adrenaline……
A Tune Of Success
I’m sleeping in today
As I awake to a rainy Sunday
Cloudy, fat drops of grey
My body needs a rest
As a happy heart, pounds in my chest
Quietly, my soul beats a tune of success
I’m living in a hive of honey and bees
Covered by flowers and hugging trees
Once an injured mystery bird, now set free
Ivor Steven (c) 2019
Remembering my wonderful trip to the magnificent “Longwood Gardens”, founded by Pierre S. du Pont, an hour west of Philadelphia, near Kennett Township. A day I shall never forget, especially with my two fabulous cousins Terry and Maureen.
Kingdom of Flowers
I stood in His kingdom today
Of flowers and fragrances
Holding her colourful bouquet
Amazed by His stunning flower-bed
I gazed at heaven’s golden archway
Guarded by rows of leafy hedges
Underneath, lay edges of reds and blues
And soft petals of yellows and purples
I floated, from the ground cover shrubbery
To the canopy’s crested scenery
Where the horizon’s reflection
enchanted my eye
Sprinkling rainbows across His azure sky
Ivor Steven (c) 2019
A Flower-bed Of Dreams
The clouds parted, exposing a river bright blue
My hazy visions, suddenly became true
I’m standing in a flower-bed of dreams
I see strawberry fields covered in sun-beams
My veins feel like bubbling mountain streams
The family circle, has my heart bursting at the seams
Ivor Steven (c) April 2019
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 