The apple I ate today was pure white
did I do wrong, or was I right
to have the adulterated bite
knowing all eyes have imperfect insight
It’s a crying shame
that dreams aren’t the same
who’s to blame
for this loveless game
please give us some hope
so we may live to cope
The cracks are dark holes
chasms to the soul
leaking emotions of old
needing warmth from the cold
We all have our worth
here on mother earth.
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Yellow
There she silently stays
Baking under daily sun-rays
An old warriors chariot
Vehicle of love and riot
Deliverer of play and gain
Carrier of our angel in the rain
A working yellow submarine
Shipping friends and our queen
Transporting them all
Here and there, having a ball
Green
I’m green with envy
Overnight, mother natures been
Healing my poison ivy
A miracle potion unseen
Mosaics of Autumn leaves
A queens robe of gold and brown
Warm quilts from the trees
Nurturing globes in the ground
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Oh, how I do over stretch
then like a faithful dog
I return after the chase and fetch
balancing life on a rolling river log
I was waiting last year
waiting last month
waiting last week
waiting yesterday
I’m waiting again tonight
I might as well keep waiting
Wait for what I’ve been waiting for
To see a crack in the wall
to stop your fall
may you grow tall
as the light calls
Anger is danger
anger is not love
danger is heavy
danger is not love
love is respect
love is not crushing
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Asleep, out of view
dawn blazes through
blinds me from above
piercing my dreams of love
uncovering lines between sheets
exposed to the morning beat
letters sprinkle upon my pillow
inking words over loose halo’s
Reflective pages and blotches
wooden posts and hollow notches
under cracked leggo blocks
narrow jargon and hidden plots
inside poems of mine
glazed with her starshine.
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
I’m reading sacred scriptures
searching for her leftover pieces
I drank a mango smoothie instead
to feed my word starved head
I’m following the score
winners cheating on soft hearts
Demons covering the doors
and angels cannot reach the charts
I’m laying her on a massage table
listening to a sad amble
I prod her skin deep
Shoulders, down to her feet
I’m rubbing salve over her soul
cleansing her masking sheet
Revealing wounded sandholes
bruised upon a pebble beach
I’m a healer who’s lost
Gravitated by her sorrow
How do I catch a falling arrow
And mend her broken cross
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
I’ve got a friend for twelve days.
Her name is Tina
She’s thirteen doggie years old
No trouble at all
Enjoying her stay
Eating well
Made herself at home
Sleeping on my bed
Another poem from my archives, that I’ve tinkered with, and rehashed slightly. The poem was written years before Carole passed, so the wording is quite ambiguous and introverted, and I’ll leave it up to your imaginations.
Just A Call Away
Waiting, when is she to summon me.
Pondering what might have been.
Writing to one and all a finale.
Pen to paper, wanting her to see.
How I survived the Tasman Seas.
Secretly thinking I’m the chosen one.
Wondering if it’s a selfish sin.
Aching to lose, so I may win.
Ivor Steven (c) 2018.
My courtyards bathed in morning sunshine.
I’m caringly watering various pot-plants.
Leisurely spraying droplets upon natures greenery.
Cacti and Succulents adorn rough timber shelves.
Previously Mum’s desert treasures.
She adored their smooth pastel hues.
Nurturing them like they were babies.
And now, I do too.
Living reflections of her love.
Reigning over us from above.
Below a sage bush, the tiny flower’s a mauve colour.
Rescued from the old homestead, Tullawalla.
Also saved were Dad’s gorgeous orchids,
And his stunning Day-lily, a vivid ruby-red.
Wind-bells chiming, I’m visualizing Dad walking by.
Wearing that Aussie Akubra shading his head.
The tomatoe Rapunzel climbs up high.
Bearing cherry-like fruit a plenty.
Entwining a Bougainvillea vine’s winding tall.
Purple flowers colourfully named Jazzi.
My favourite Geranium’s in full bloom.
The deepest dark red you’ll ever see.
Groomed from a small cutting, a glorious find.
Osteospermum, a yellow like daisy, looks divine.
Standing beside a hardy savivor, Limonium Blue.
Pots of natural herbs of onion and garlic chives.
And the strongly aromatic Lip Balm Monarda.
Overlooking the scenic array, Dad’s hanging basket.
A Drooping Violet soaking in moistening dew.
Our wedding flower, a memento of you.
Dad’s Hanging Basket Plant, a Drooping Violet, ah yes, he knew..
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
Everyone is Welcome., Join in via Danica. https://danicapiche.com/2018/03/02/welcome-to-your-song-a-community-collaboration/
For the readers that know me, they’ll be saying, “Of course Ivor will be writing about Leonard Cohen as his favourite singer/songwriter”. And that’s so true. I’ve actually never written an article about Leonard Cohen, and I’m feeling quite apprehensive about doing so. I’m thinking that what ever I try to say, will be totally inadequate to do justice to my inspiration, my saviour, my source of solace through troubled times, and my soothsayer in everything that I try to achieve in my writings. The featured photo above is of my first two Vinyl LP’s by Leonard. On the right, “Songs Of Leonard Cohen” 1967, and on the left, the famous photo of Marianne on the cover of his second Album, “Songs From A Room” 1969. Marianne died 3 months before Leonard Cohen, and here is a piece of what he wrote to her just before she passed. “our bodies are falling apart and I think I will follow you very soon. Know that I am so close behind you that if you stretch out your hand, I think you can reach mine.” * And below the return letter, that was published on The Leonard Cohen Facebook site, after he had passed, November 7th 2019.
*Wikipedia, Leonard Cohen.
And now I’m feeling quite emotional, and all my friends on WordPress will be saying, “Ivor will be crying now”, and yes, they’re right too. Best I move on to a few of my favourite songs(all his songs are my favourites), from his first LP, “One Of Us Cannot Be Wrong”
And I think it’s appropriate that I choose a song from his last Album, which was released only a month before Leonard passed at the age of 83, “You Want It Darker”, and the stand-out track for me is, “If I Didn’t Have Your Love”, the lyrics are superbly sublime.
There’s so much more I would like to write, but I’ll leave that up to the Biographers. I shall mention a favourite poem of mine, also written by Leonard late in his life, a reasonably long poem, but well worth the read, “Happens To The Heart” . https://www.leonardcohenfiles.com/happens.html . In closing below is an article, also posted on The Leonard Cohen Facebook site, by his son Adam. And a big thank you to Danica for giving me the opportunity/prompt to present a post about Leonard Cohen.
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 