Throwback Friday, Eerie Sky, Teasing Rain, by Ivor Steven

Throwback Friday, Eerie Sky, Teasing Rain, by Ivor Steven

Here in Geelong today we had some cool summer showers, which reminded me of the 2020 summer, when the devastating bushfires were raging throughout Australia, and in late January, we were in desparate need of some relieving summer rain.
Feature Image Above: I’m standing in light rain, at the end of my lane, but the sky is still a smokey haze, which is very eerie…..

Left. A smokey beach in the morning  Right. Looking straight at the sun on the beach

Left. The smokey sky and sun at end of my lane. Right. The thunderstorm this afternoon

Eerie Sky, Teasing Rain

The eeriness is hard to explain

Our sky is smokey again

But here I stand in the rain

At the end of my dusty lane

Smelling the stench of our fiery haze

Now mixed with the aroma of wet maize

I’m stunned, and unearthly amazed

As Thor’s neon lights add to my daze

This summer storm is yet to fully expound

Tiny drops are struggling to cover the ground

The day’s hot, but our sun cannot be found

And this afternoon’s darkness leaves me spellbound

Footnote: When I was about to post this article, the heavy rain did come…. At last the sky did start crying over the fires of South-Eastern Australia, and gave our exhausted firefighters a timely reprieve.

Tullawalla is Available From

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Perceptions is Now Available via:

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OR: email me directly for a signed copy –

Ivor Steven (c) January 2020

“Where Have All The Good Times Gone”

A few days ago(29th Nov 2017), I had started writing a poem about Penny Farthing Bicycles, prompted by an article in the Geelong Advertiser newspaper, the arrival in Geelong of eight members of the Melbourne Bicycle Club in March 1880, as per featured picture above, courtesy of the Geelong Heritage Centre Collection. Then I was chatting with my friend Jane of Janebasilblog, she had just sent me the song and lyrics of the Mary Hopkin hit, “Those Were The Days”, from 1968, and I mentioned The Kinks were one of my fav’s from that era, and of course their song “Lola”. After our chat, I starting thinking [which is dangerous for me] about writing a crazy, combined, mixed up poem… The piece below is the result of those thoughts, and to my older readers, you’ll notice all the phrases written in Italic, are song titles taken from The Kinks album “The Kinks Collection”. So apologies to Ray Davies for using his song titles in such a manner.

“Where Have All The Good Times Gone”

I remember the olden times

Of pennies and farthings

Pounds and pence

When money made no sense

Mary Hopkins sang

“Those Were The Days”

And the Kinks song “Lola”

Was the best number one ever

Many a lazy Sunny Afternoon

Spent down near Waterloo Sunset

Where we would all dance

All Of The Day And All Of The Night

My Friends would all dress-up

Like Dedicated Followers Of Fashion

Unlike that lonely Plastic Man

Who faked the Death Of A Clown

Way back then, You Really Got Me

You fired me up, here in Victoria

Thousands of Days forgotten in the burn-out

Charred in a cloud of Big Black Smoke

But now, I’m Tired Of Waiting For You

Wondering, Where Have All The Good Times Gone

Ivor Steven (c)

Originally Posted, 29th November 2017.  4.00pm

Innocent Millipedes

Please Mr Shootin’ Putin

Do not roll your tanks of destruction

Over the innocent Mr & Mrs Millipede

Millipedes were the earliest animals to breathe air

And make the move from water to land

They date back 428 million years

Now people of the world cannot hold back their tears

Did you know Mr Shootin’ Putin

That Millipedes are fairly timid critters

Docile decomposers that live in the leaf litter

Of forests all over the world!

They aren’t flashy or fast

And they follow the motto

“Slow and steady wins the race”

Millipedes are peaceful

They don’t bite

They can’t sting

And they don’t have pincers to fight back

Please Mr Shootin’ Putin

Do not roll your tanks of destruction

Over the innocence of creation

Ivor Steven (c) March 2022

Atlantis, is up at Spillwords Magazine

I am ecstatic to have my poem “Atlantis” published at Spillwords Magazine today, and I am very grateful to the editors at Spillwords for accepting my piece .. Pease go and visit my poem at Spillwords and if you wish, leave a ❤ for my article, by clicking on this link >>


Nature’s abundant history

Bounces forth in front of our eyes

The view is silently stunning

Nature’s assets keep running

Our hearts keep drumming

In tune with nature’s humming

Gently step into her ocean surf

For beneath the waves lays her sodden turf

The Atlantis carpet of ancestral bones

Remnants of ruined millennia covered in fallen moonstones

Nature’s guiding lodestones waiting to be atoned

Ivor Steven (c) December 2021

Stone Arches, High In The Sky

Image credit: Vrolans @ Pixabay

Written in response to Sadje‘s What Do You See #111 photo prompt

Stone Arches, High In The Sky

Sitting on this old cemetery bench

Judiciously carved from marble

I’m pondering like Rodin’s ‘Thinker’

Observing God’s arches high in the sky

Supported by tall Gothic columns

Laboriously sculptured stone

Dull shades of gray

Etched by heavy rain

Burnt under the drying sun

Shaped by the winds of time

Millennia cast in granite

History encrusted surfaces

Pillars of society, silently solidified

Witnesses of forgotten decades

Ancient pyramids overseeing cold graveyards

Decayed monuments to our lost souls

Immortality and finality achieved

Beyond the shadows of doubt

Their stoic presence

An eternal epitaph

Ivor Steven (c) December 2021

Annoying Mind Games (Again)

Hi dear readers , below is a poem from two years ago, one that I really didn’t want to post again, but sadly, here the story is, on repeat again…………

Here I am in bed now, with a sharp raging headache(again). I’m not well, my occipital neuralgia has flared up (again) . All I can do is rest, so I’ll be lying low for a few days (or more). I’m beginning my treatment on Tuesday, physiotherapy and acupuncture, which in the end gives me some manageable relief. The whole process can take up to 4 weeks,…. Yeah… I should be ok for Christmas……. Hope you all have a good weekend


Mind Games (Again)


There’s a sharp pain

Inside my brain

Harpooning my eye

More than Ouch, I cry

So hard to write

Blurry is my sight

All I do is peep

And I must rest and sleep

I’ve not lost the knack

And I shall be back……….

Hopefully soon

Before they play my tune


Occipital neuralgia is a distinct type of headache characterised by piercing, throbbing, or electric-shock-like chronic pain in the upper neck, back of the head, and behind the ears, usually on one side of the head. Typically, the pain of occipital neuralgia begins in the neck and then spreads upwards.


Ivor Steven (c)  Nov 2019



The name Dallas

Hangs proudly under my verandah

The name of our old family house

There’s only us cousins, who are left

We’re unsure as to where Dallas first came from

We do know that Dallas

Was uncle John’s middle name

But where did the name originate

It’s a family mystery to us now

There’s no other mention, anywhere in our family history

And the name has not been used again

The name Dallas, shall now remain

Hanging under my verandah

As a silent memorial to uncle John


Ivor Steven (c)  2019

My Courtyard Fence

The Weekly Prompt, Photo prompt is : Fences..  Across the road from my home, there’s a large housing development, under construction with a high wire fence around the site. It’s in vast contrast to my private little yard here. I’m on my exercise bike, Yorkie, pedalling away and looking around at my courtyard fence. I’m wondering, how I got this far and how I arrived at this place, jumping all of life’s tall fences on my to journey  here. On my courtyard fence hangs so many memories, and it takes me back to when I wrote a poem, of when life was extraordinarily hard and I felt the end was near, it was just after  I had my first Stroke eighteen years ago, and I couldn’t jump “This Fence”<< Click to view the Weekly Prompt’s site

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This Fence

I am quickly nearing this fence.
An obstacle of a lifetime I see.
And from my side of this fence,
The hurdle is too high for me.
And on the other side of this fence,
There seems nowhere to land or flee.

I have arrived at this fence,
Above the pickets, just grey sky.
And on my side of this fence,
The grass is brown and dry.
On the other side of this fence,
The grass is green, but still I cry.
How am I to clear this fence,
There seems nowhere to go, or get by.

This fence, all built of stones,
Breaks my spirit, and all my bones.


Ivor Steven (c)  2019

Hello Dad

Hello Dad, and happy birthday, you were the most honourable and kindest man of my life. I’ve got a lot live up to Dad, my dear friend.

**By one of my favourite writers, Colleen of, “The Chatter Blog”, a superb piece

Etched In Stone

“When your father’s name is etched in stone

It is never as indelible

As the etching in your heart”       —  Colleen Faherty Brown


**By one of my favourite musicians, Neil Young, and his song “Old Man”

“Old Man”
“Old man look at my life,
I’m a lot like you were.
Old man look at my life,
I’m a lot like you were.

Old man look at my life,
Twenty four
and there’s so much more
Live alone in a paradise
That makes me think of two.

Love lost, such a cost,
Give me things
that don’t get lost.
Like a coin that won’t get tossed
Rolling home to you.

Old man take a look at my life
I’m a lot like you
I need someone to love me
the whole day through
Ah, one look in my eyes
and you can tell that’s true.

Lullabies, look in your eyes,
Run around the same old town.
Doesn’t mean that much to me
To mean that much to you.

I’ve been first and last
Look at how the time goes past.
But I’m all alone at last.
Rolling home to you.

Old man take a look at my life
I’m a lot like you
I need someone to love me
the whole day through
Ah, one look in my eyes
and you can tell that’s true.

Old man look at my life,
I’m a lot like you were.
Old man look at my life,
I’m a lot like you were.”        — Neil Young

Ivor Steven (c)  2019

My First Post Is Now My “500th Post”

Liquid Joy (Revised)


Tears of liquid joy

Like rivers of fear

The memories so clear

And a toast to cheer

Tears of liquid joy

Like waves from the heart

Two great oceans apart

And wishing for another restart

Tears of liquid joy

Like dredged canals of the soul

Leaking from a broken porthole

And wishing for a free parole

Tears of liquid joy

A flowing molten lava

Passing a secret convoy

And singing like the last choirboy

Crying liquid joy


Ivor Steven (c)  2019