It’s that time of the year, a Christmas message from Ivor. And above a picture of my family’s get together, for Danny’s 70th birthday. Only us siblings these days, from the left, Tum(Lawrie’s wife), Ivor, Danny, Lawrie(Standing), Miffy, and Miffy’s John took the picture.
Time Travelers
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
This weeks Photo Challenge is about animals in nature, and I’m always fascinated by the mystical world of dragons, and that’s “My Dragon” in the featured image above, and also in the picture below, where I’m giving my friendly dragon a pat. You can read all about my dragon by clicking on this link >> https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2017/09/23/my-dragon-the-trilogy-2/ I know my dragon is very fond of the local swans residing nearby on Corio Bay.
There are readers of mine who would remember my Lizard Of Wizardry, Lizzy, who(it has been suggested) was the reincarnation of my little furry friend, Lily, and if you’d like to read about Lizzy the lizard, click on this link >>https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2017/11/07/lily-and-a-lizard-of-wizardry-2/
I do miss my little dog Lily, and we both enjoyed our walks to the lovely bush setting of the Moorabool Valley Chocolate Cafe. Every now and then we would encounter a cheeky magpie on the Cafe’s outside patio area, and below, photos of the magpie and, lily proudly sitting in her wild natural habitat. I also wrote a poem about that cheeky magpie, click here on this link >>https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2017/10/15/cheeky-magpie/
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
What makes life magical? For me it’s magical when I read my “My Dragon” poems to my friend’s children, as they sit down around me, and listen intently to my every word, yes, that is What makes life magical.
My Dragon
A monstrous Dragon, breathing fire.
Did arise from the gurgling mire.
Dark gangrenous green, from head to tails.
Claws blackened, sharp as nails.
Purple secretions, from his scaly chest.
A spear lampooned, a grizzly mess.
Nostrils ablaze, bloodied red.
Eyes seeping yellow maggot heads.
My Dragons crying, and nearly dead.
My Dragon, The Revival
My lampooned Dragon’s, fallen and out of breath.
Gazing around, pleading, near death.
The Slayer’s spear, protrudes from his scaly vest.
And I quietly hear his soulful pounding chest.
Quickly, I plunge my sword, cutting shard.
Removing the spears horrid barb.
My Dragon exhales a fearsome howl.
Eyes bulging, tears flowing down his jowl.
In agony, thrashing his spiky green tail.
Then slowly abating, like a windless sail.
Is he dying, lying there loudly groaning.
Nostrils snorting, neither afire nor smoking.
Suddenly, his left-wing begins flapping.
And my Dragon’s head rises, stretching, arching.
Green horns twitching, like a mythical serpentine.
Yellow eyes glowing, like magical sunshine.
My Dragon’s revived.
And ready to skydive.
My Dragon, Can He Fly
My wounded Dragon, stands so proud.
Neck arching up, looking to the clouds.
Seeing graceful birds flying apart.
He feels a huge scar close to his heart.
My Dragon bows, and shakes his beastly head.
But his enormous tail feels like lead.
Flapping one wing, then the other.
Dejected he looks, not even a hover.
Nostrils snorting, no sign of fire.
To fly again, his deepest desire.
From within I hear, gut-rumblings soar.
My Dragon angrily spews an almighty roar.
And his gigantic jaws open wide.
A bloodied tongue swishes his fangs side to side.
He swallows and belches another gruesome howl.
A flame burst forth from his boughs.
My Dragon frantically begins to respire.
Again and again his exhales are afire.
And gyrating his heavy green tail.
He spreads his wings like full sails.
Frightened at first, fluttering end to end.
My jumbo sized reptile gradually ascends.
Twenty, then fifty, a hundred leagues above.
Suddenly flying, like a flock of beautiful doves.
Magically rolling and frolicking he flies
Happily he shrieks and swoosh, rapidly down he dives.
Happy “Independence Day” to my American friends, I suppose this is an appropriate day/time to repost this previous poem of mine, and beware as your party’s are moving into full swing
It was the fourth of July
The party seems to be finished
Wondering how long I dozed off for
Most of my friends have gone
A few bodies left, laying on the floor
Best I have a piss before I go
Now where’s that bathroom
Whoops, there’s a girl in here
Dressed all in blue, and she’s on the floor
Slouched in the corner, not moving
Her skins “a whiter shade of pale” *
Red lip-stick all askew
Then I see myself in the mirror
Agape, my white shirt’s moist and filthy
Splattered, deep dark red
Oh no ! It’s human blood
I turn the crumpled girl over
Her pretty blue dress, covered in blood too
What’s happened, I can’t remember
Only blurry images of red white and blue
My mind goes numb
And my legs start running
Out of here in a hurry
“Thump”, I trip over
I thought that bloke was asleep
I didn’t notice at first
His red shirt’s also oozing out blood
Holy hell, he’s dead too
I’m stumbling through the front door
Grappling, panicking, now where
Where do I flee to.
Think ! Yes, a nearby Church
Has an early dawn service
A sanctuary for my burning fears
And bumbling into the Church I go
Settling upon the nearest pew
I’m white as a ghost and turn to see who’s beside me
An eerily stunning red-haired girl
Wearing a dress of red white and blue
Memory flashes back, it’s Her, from the party
She’s staring at me now, with livid red and white eyes
I see fangs protruding over her blue lips
Dribbling fresh blood, hissing at me
She gurgles, “Did I miss one”
The Filia Sanguine suddenly grabs my arm
And her dark-blue fingernails dig deep
I’m seized, I’m gone, I know
There’s no safe haven here
“Where do you go to my lovely”**
Screaming tears of red white and blue
Ivor Steven (c) 2018
* A Whiter Shade Of Pale, Procol Hurum song Title 1967.
**Where Do You Go To My Lovely, Peter Sarstedt song Title 1969
