Knock Me Down With A feather

Hello dear readers, I would like to send a big thank you to, a dear penfriend of mine, and fellow poet, for her help and collaboration with the writing of this poem, especially the last stanza, which was a jumbled mess at one stage.

Knock Me Down With A Feather


The winds may be strong

In the direction of my swan song

Blowing fresh upon my face

I feel a roar from grace


Crooked feathers do fly

Old feathers become dry

Angel’s wings soaring on the wind

Angel’s wings failing, are left behind


After the breakages

There’s a wreckage


And I must restart the race again

For aching bones, it’s a strain

Too many pieces down the drain

Every-time I showered, in the warm rain


I see my world, in scrambled grades

From loving rainbows, to gliding downhill on roller blades

Where true words were found, deep in the ever-glades

And I’m not afraid, to call my dirty pitchfork a silver spade


Ivor Steven (c)  October 2019

Dragons And Faeries




Dragons And Faeries


My dragon flew me to New York

His scaly tail was singed

By the stoic statue’s torch

As we were landing, upon Central Park

And in the city’s mystical forest I stood

Amongst strawberry fields and woods

Atop the plaque of my dreams

I imagined, how life should’ve been


My naked soul, a vision unseen

I have a dream, like John’s world

Togetherness, love pristine

The apple uneaten

And the snake shyly beaten

I see peace, within evil’s tiredness

Burnt-out flames, of the devil’s nakedness

Leaving us life’s leftover ashes

Then the peace dove shall arise from the ruins

And the lost faeries, will return as humans




Ivor Steven (c)  2019


On a starry Autumn night

Laying under the cosmic sky

I see a universe beyond

The galaxy’s, milky way

With unnumbered orbiting planets

Astronomer’s, clearly hearing their sound

Radars that echo, there’s no shadow of doubt

Out there somewhere

In the vastness of space

Another similar earth, co-exists


Do those purple aliens

Wait and wonder

Look to the cosmos and ponder

When will humanity arrive

Invading their picturesque, violet atmosphere

Ravaging innocent foreign lives

Bowing to the human war cry

Assimilate or die


“Melancholy Man” The Moody Blues

I’m a melancholy man, that’s what I am,
All the world surrounds me, and my feet are on the ground.
I’m a very lonely man, doing what I can,
All the world astounds me and I think I understand
That we’re going to keep growing, wait and see.When all the stars are falling down
Into the sea and on the ground,
And angry voices carry on the wind,
A beam of light will fill your head
And you’ll remember what’s been said
By all the good men this world’s ever known.
Another man is what you’ll see,
Who looks like you and looks like me,
And yet somehow he will not feel the same,
His life caught up in misery, he doesn’t think like you and me,
‘Cause he can’t see what you and I can see

Ivor Steven (c)  2019


Time To Think

Good news today !! My scans and tests results from yesterday, came back negative. My Doctor said I could go home, and I’m allowed to start driving again, and I’ve “officially” been given the all-clear to fly to America, New York, and Philadelphia…. The best news I’ve received for  5 months.. Yeah.. and I’m a happy and relieved Ivor. Hopefully, for my next few months, there’s clear a sky and smooth flying.

Time To Think


I’m thinking of time and space

Or am I thinking of time in space


a second

an hour

a light-year


could be infinite

Or a void

inside your head

The head controls your body

To walk

in your space

Your space

where you belong

You belong

a part of the human race

Right or wrong

We live our life

on this place

From the moment we are born

Until the clock chimes

your time to die

Leaving a void of empty space

And we drop out of the race

Becoming a soul of eternal grace


Ivor Steven (c)  2019

I Dream On Snippets

I’m also posting this poem on “Go Dog Go Cafe” promote yourself Mondays, such wonderful for my poem to viewed by a different audience , please have a look at their site by clicking >> Here 

I’m living on snippets

A snip here, a piece there

I don’t watch TV news nor read newspapers

There’s no need to see more

False dreams don’t swim in my sea

And realities fill my soul with broken keys

I don’t watch many movies

I know their spirit’s are within me

And their ghosts live beyond what I see


I’m sipping on the holy grail

A thimble of wine

To a chalice of water

There’s no need to drink more

Rivers of tears have already flooded my heart

And clouds fill my soul with yesterdays rain


I’m eating snippets

A morsel here, a crumb from there

I don’t hunt for my groceries

There’s no need to eat more

Food magically lands on my plate

Delivered by angels who look after me


I’m breathing wisps of air

Gasping for my invisible share

Enough to activate my inner being

There’s no need to inhale more

The sky is infinite and free

And the trees air fills my lungs, regenerating me


Ivor Steven (c)  2019


Paper Tigers

The poet’s studio, is now the little litter part of my bedroom

A paper tiger’s haven, has become a messy grotto

I mean to roar it’s, uncomfortably untidy

Pieces of paper and cardboard kites

Scatter the room like confetti

Autumn leaves of the old poet’s pen

Scribbled words yet to be encoded

Foolscap overwritten and smudged

Out-lined by white-out corrections

Undefined and unlisted

Out of focus and twisted

Upside down and inside out

Uncategorized to the extreme

My disorganised dreamscape’s haven,

Looking like a moonscape’s junkyard

Here the poet’s rustic pen has been the ruler

Showing no regard for my bedroom’s demeanour

Three months since the mighty sword has cleaned-up

Blarney and Baloney, I do confess

I’m sleeping covered in my hurdy gurdy verses

I cannot see under these printed alien addresses

It’s time, to dispel my dream’s curses

Free myself of all wasted jabberwocky guilt

Let my alien poetry regenerate and begin anew


Ivor Steven (c)  2019