Auspiciously

“Weekly Prompt” . The word prompt for this week: Serendipity

 

I’m a poet of little renown

Writing continuously for eighteen years

Scribbling word after word

Penning thousands upon thousands of lines

Forming hundreds and hundreds of poems

My stories of memories and rhymes

Soulful words of mine

By perchance

I’m reviewing my poems today

Reading every poem, every word

Auspiciously

Discovering there’s a word

A word I’ve never used

I’m mystified and perplexed

I’ve never been charmed

With the gift of the written word

Fortuity has rolled on by me

I’m wondering why

Why I’ve never used the word

Serendipity

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Chatting To ChatterMaster

I’ve been good friends with Colleen of, Click >> ChatterMaster, since the first week I started blogging 14 months ago. I love her glorious attitude for life and people. I diligently read all of her posts (nearly) and I often write comments to her in the form of little poems, and many of them have been featured here in my “Tit Bits” series of poems. However today I’m presenting little/micro poems I’ve posted on Colleen’s site, during the past few weeks.

Fall

After a bad fall

We need good strength

To fully recover

I Believe

I believe in helping

I believe it’s our call

I believe no matter how small

I believe in standing tall

Where To

I’m good at reading maps

Not a good driver

I’m good a finding the dots

Not good at erasing the crosses

I’m good at figuring things out

If you’re struggling about

I’ll help you out

Extra Time

If we had an extra hour in our day

It still wouldn’t be enough time

To fit all the good times in

We just have to enjoy our good times

While we still have time

Holding Today

I like holding today

She’s bubbly and full of life

I look forward to meeting tomorrow

She’s a lustrous light

I loved yesterday

Like there was no tomorrow

I dream of the next kiss

Holding onto today is bliss

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

Breakfast Tea, Lemon And Ginger

Today’s dawn is crisp and foggy

A gentle chilly breeze tingles my skin’s awakening

The cold air’s magically refreshing

As I sit here under my verandah

Protected from the cool settling dew droplets

Wetting every piece of exposed ground

Moisturising my garden’s fernery

Greenery leaves glossy and glowing

I sense my cheeks are warmly blushing

Feeling filtered rays of morning sunshine

Welcoming me to another enriching new-day

 

20180820_132232 (1)

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

A Poem About Me

Share your poem with me!                                                                                                 Written By Gina, of Singledust

“Last week in my feature at the Go Dog Go Cafe I put out a call to write a poem to introduce yourself. the idea was formed from a spoken word poetry meet I attended. 

If it inspires you to write one, Pingback to here or my Come Sit With Me post and I will feature it this week at the Cafe! 

No word limit but….you know what I mean!

I would really like to read who you are in your own words!

 

Here’s my poem, about me, Ivor.

About Me, And My Links  <<< Click Here For Gina’s Post.

How to write a poem about me

The boy who lives by the sea

As a youngster, I was not a loud speaker

Just shy and quiet, a daytime dreamer

With visions of yesteryear well-preserved

Good times, on the beach and in the surf

I loved Vegemite, honey and ice-cream

And my life became just a little dream

 

Looking at the mirror of a calm bay

I see sun-burnt freckles and dark hair, that turned grey

Struggling, life was disappearing after my Stroke

Emotionally I was crying out, who’s left to row the boat

Needing strength, my stars echoed, “I Do Thee Shine

Now I’m left with these words of mine

Recalling all of the days in my time

Leaving my empty hands full, of memories and rhymes

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

Eating Chocolates And Watching Wars

Let us join the movement, Against The Next War, and have your say. Please reblog or write your own story, and join Paul Sunstone, in the campaign for Peace.  << click here. I’m re-posting today, and attaching this important song “Spirit Bird”, by Xavier Rudd, and his lyrics are a pure statement from the heart, please read along with the music, and cry with me, for our spirits and our land.

“Leaving us

Stunned

Hollow ashamed”

My poem:

Eating Chocolates And Watching Wars

 

Hungrily I’m eating a liquor chocolate

A selfish heavenly delight

Arousing my old minds senses

I wonder

What she would be thinking

Looking down from the stars

Through her sensitive olive eyes

Her everlasting smile

Her gracious courage

Her generous heart

Her forgiving soul

Her love for me and you

I wonder

What she would be thinking

Seeing these futile bloody wars

Through her compassionate olive eyes

The dead and maimed

The millions of shuffling homeless

The distraught broken families

The crying children locked in sheds

The desperate refugees with no beds

I wonder

What she would be thinking

While she preciously holds the last white dove

Observing these senseless wars

That never never end

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

Eating Chocolates And Watching Wars

Let us join the movement, Against The Next War, and have your say. Please reblog or write your own story, and join Paul Sunstone, in the campaign for Peace.  << click here. I’m reposting today, with this song “Spirit Bird”, by Xavier Rudd, and his lyrics are a pure statement from the heart, please read along with music, and cry with me, for our spirits and our land.

“Leaving us

Stunned

Hollow ashamed”

Hungrily I’m eating a liquor chocolate

A selfish heavenly delight

Arousing my old minds senses

I wonder

What she would be thinking

Looking down from the stars

Through her sensitive olive eyes

Her everlasting smile

Her gracious courage

Her generous heart

Her forgiving soul

Her love for me and you

I wonder

What she would be thinking

Seeing these futile bloody wars

Through her compassionate olive eyes

The dead and maimed

The millions of shuffling homeless

The distraught broken families

The crying children locked in sheds

The desperate refugees with no beds

I wonder

What she would be thinking

While she preciously holds the last white dove

Observing these senseless wars

That never never end

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

Sleepless.

 

Weekly Prompts

Your second chance to be creative.  This Weeks Word Prompt:  Review

                                                                                                                                                              I’ve been mailing off my submissions to magazines and anthologies lately, and I had to Review my comprehensive collection of poems, and go through the process of personally selecting some of my poems for the submissions. And then I have the waiting, waiting to find out if I’ve been successful or NOT !!. I’m not sure how to present the rest of this article, I suppose the form of listing my works to each Magazine/Anthology might show how much time and effort goes into these submission, and why I sometimes shun away from doing submissions, and I also find the whole process personally daunting and taxing on my emotions, putting myself out there is hurdle of confidence that I find hard to jump.

Here’s A list of my Submissions for the month.

Vita Brevis Magazine

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/03/25/beyond-the-trapdoor/

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/05/02/what-is-one-of-the-worst-emotional-storms-youve-weathered-in-your-life/

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/04/11/circumference/

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/02/01/crystal-clear-shallows/

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2017/10/19/a-midday-sun/

The Drabble.

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/06/06/a-friend-2/

Geelong Writers Anthology 2018

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/05/16/down-along-the-river-bed/

and “Beyond The Trap Door”

Geelong Poetry Anthology 2018

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/01/15/singing-a-song-for-you/

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2017/11/28/waterways-reposted-and-re-edited/

“Crystal Clear Shallows”

“A Friend”

Write About  (A Combine Book Published by 2 Writers Groups, Belmont Page and Write About) These 10 poems will be published in the book.

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/06/03/tall-ships-an-encore/

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/07/05/times-awry/

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/08/08/my-blue-statice-blooms-today/

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/06/16/vaults-and-bookcases-2/

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/07/06/a-single-weeping-tree-a-villanelle/

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2017/08/31/burning-the-fears/

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/03/10/rabbit-stew-and-broken-plates/

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2017/08/23/if-only-walls-could-talk/

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/05/02/what-is-one-of-the-worst-emotional-storms-youve-weathered-in-your-life/

“Circumference”

 

Thank you for your patience, and of course all my submission are presented via Word Online documents. On review, I think I’ll be giving my submission frenzy a rest !! Let us not be silent.

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/08/16/against-the-next-war/

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Let Us Climb

Climb Aboard, (Introduction by, Jane Basil)
all who wish an end to war are welcome;
we beg you to share our message of peace,
that it may reach across the wildest desert,
weave through cities, travel with the waves of the seas
that stroke our shores and soak into our sands.
Let it grow to encompass our nurturing planet;
let every peacemaker of every nation join hands,
and be embraced with love in return.
Let peace become a pandemic
the like of which we have never known.

This was written for our peace campaign which was dreamed up by my amazing friend Paul Sunstone. Yep – remember the name; that man has greatness in him. We want the campaign to go viral. Share his post (see link below) and/or write a post of your own.

Click <<<<<<<HERE>>>>>> to find out more

and find even <<<<<<<MORE>>>>>>>   <——— there

The above introduction is copied directly from Jane Basil’s blog site and her post  “Climb Aboard”  

Climb Aboard

Below an older poem of mine from over 10 years ago, and I’m afraid nothing has changed, and Click onto “Return The Bullets” title to view Paul Sunstone’s latest post.

Return The Bullets

The mind awakens to secret cannons shattering my bed.

All the violence of the worlds pounding inside my head.

The killing and the maiming of all the innocents who fled.

What happens when all the little lambs are slaughtered.

When the people’s of all religions and creed are dead.

And we can’t return the murdering bullets back into the barrel.

I’m afraid.

The backyard stairway is far too steep to climb.

The hand rails are way out of reach to find.

And the public change-room windows are covered with bars.

Now encircling the city hall, the security backdoor is ajar.

Entering the marble aisle, the White-room appears vacant.

And guileful leaders have run, leaving a chasm of gloomy dark.

I’m wondering.

Where to go, the healing house is full of ugly holes.

The citizens cowering in shadows behind splintered lighting poles.

And the crumbling streets are awash with rivers of leftover blood.

Now the warring bosses have to fight amongst themselves.

Throwing poison pens and paper darts at each other.

Never bruised nor battered, using ivory towers as cover.

I’m terrified.

The dusty mushroom cloud, slowly settles on the barren ground.

With sands of distant lands, shifting into every nook and cranny.

We need the good Doctor, to help us cure these alien scourges.

And foreigners arriving upon waves of our neighbouring seas.

The deathly TV images, wrongly implanted for all to see.

As the press only gossip and drivel with selfish glee.

I’m stupefied.

The guns of freedom lands, haven’t even stopped the cull.

Death to friends or foe, no matter, to the rulers from above.

Their only rules, the poor and weak to be kept totally down trodden.

One day the surviving meek shall inherit their radioactive dirt.

And the rich will feast upon their own contaminated bread.

And we’ll never return the murdering bullets back into the barrel.

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Against The Next War

This is a poem written by Paul Sunstone. Please read and reblogg if you wish to do so.

Against the Next War

(About a 3 minute read)

The internet has made it now
Bound to happen
Tomorrow or the year after.
Bound to happen.

Maybe.
Up to you.

The politicians and the preachers,
The two dogs of the capitalist class,
Will once again want a war,
Just as they always do.

War to them is a gift, you see,
It’s not personal, it’s not their blood.
But war makes some folks rich
And you will never change that,
You will never change that,
Though the dogs will bark it’s not so.

A war of aggression
Against some people somewhere,

Most likely brown,
Most likely poor,
Most likely weak,
Most likely no real threat.

War for the sake of the banks
And for the merchants of death.
War for the sake of the pulpit,
And for the corridors of power.

But not a war for the sake
Of you and of me. We don’t count.
Our side is the one side
That has never counted.
Never.

That’s how war goes, it’s always been so
And it’s bound to happen again,
Soon happen again.

This is your world,
How it really is —
The world you think,
The world you were taught,
The gods want you to live in and love
Them more than you love each other.

In your world are great nations:
Nations the greatest in history,
Nations with the power of suns,
A thousands suns,
To do good, make truths come true
For even the poor man, the poor woman,
The poor child. Make truths come true.

But these nations,
Nations great and greatest,
Act only like whores,
Filthy whores,
Fucking folks raw,
Spreading their diseases,
Recruiting new girls,
Ever younger girls
To fuck you, to fuck all of you,
To fuck everyone.

This is your world
Your world without end.

But now someday you see

Someday now for once it will happen
For once it will stop
Stop the day they give a war
And you
You rise up, join hands
By the millions, possibly billions,
Linked together by the net
And by love, and by common sense.

At last,
At last you will rise, singing
“At last my spirit shall have water!
At last my cries shall be heard!
At last my thirst shall be slaked!”

Yes, you will rise up and you will say
In a voice thunderous and magnified
By the whole world joining in,

Say, “Those people are our friends,
We chat with them by day and by night.
We know their hopes, we know their dreams,
We know their troubles, we know their fears.
We know them, we know their names.

“Jane and Matthias. Terese and Sindhuja.
Mark, Parikhitdutta, and Min.

We even marry them now and then —
They shall not this time be murdered.

“You will not touch them,
Our brothers, our friends;
This once the bombs won’t fall.
This once the bombs won’t fall.
You politicians and preachers,
You capitalists and bankers all —
This once the bombs won’t fall.”

Yet you know it will ever be a dream
Just a dream, just a mere dream.
It will ever be a dream
If you, if we, keep on dividing,
Never uniting, never joining,
But instead just staying, just keeping,
To my echo chamber or to yours.

So let’s come together
Let’s come together,
Let’s come together.

So let’s come together
Before the nukes fall,
Before the demons fall.
Before we die in the winter,
And we come together
Never once come together at all.

 


Please seriously consider spreading this poem — spreading it to your site, to the social media sites — in an effort to make it go viral. We need it viral well before the next war, we need folks mulling over the idea of rebelling against the violence. Spread this poem and then you too write — write about the ideas presented in the poem. For you, for your brothers and for your sisters, for your children after you — stop the wars of aggression!

Please Note: Matthias has responded by dedicating his poem, Pooling Strength, to this cause.

Time Travelers

For my readers, followers, friends and all those who doubt my connection to our unidentified Aliens, my “Mothership” landed for a visit today, to check-up on how I was handling the planet earth’s present dilemmas, and I’m afraid I had to report that the situation here is stagnant and quite grim.  

Zap, a gigantic lightening bolt precedes a mystical power surge

Traversing the cobalt skies, like horizontally sleek outriggers

Vividly scoring chords to hang our every word on

Like musical lines, writing out our lost dreams and regrets

 

Sound-waves echoing, poles apart, going north, south, east and west

Conducting iridescent lights over our purple and orange sunset

Vibrating quasars, pulsating from deeply inside, outer-space

Focusing towards the huge magnetic Receiving Dish, signalling “An Arrival”

 

 

Recording a celestial traveler, singing with an angel’s voice

Resonating sweetly, like Handel’s, Messiah Hallelujah Chorus

Translated into our universal language of symphonic sound

Digitally televised for the world’s population to simultaneously view

 

The Super-Sonic Cosmic message to be heard loud and clear

“We’ve returned to your degraded planet earth”

“To again, bestow upon you, Peace And Goodwill”

“Like we’ve done before, Eons of Millenniums ago”

https://youtu.be/sI66hcu9fIs

 

Ivor Steven  (c)