Worms, Ants and Zombies

This midweek’s word/photo challenge from the Weekly Prompts site is: ZOMBIE REALITY. Please go over and visit their fabulous site by clicking >>Here

Worms, Ants and Zombies

 

I’m under a dome, inside a barn

A giant steel worm farm

Crawling with thousands of ants

Wearing drab skirts and pants

Some are dazed, dumbfounded like me

Others stride out bold and carefree

Seeking their worm’s tunnel

Walking down an endless funnel

Where the guzzling worms stop and go

Slurping ants up, riding to and fro

Oh no, which steel worm to catch

Before the grinding worm halts, to hatch

Unfazed, into a mysterious iron-belly I jump

The giant worm rattles at every bump

Rolling through underground passages

And all the ants are reading messages

Heads down, looking at antenna screens

With their vacant Zombie eyes of red beams

I quietly ask one, “where do I get off this worm”

It snapped, “You’re asked the wrong germ! “

Suddenly I’ve a gurgling feeling of fear

And I must escape, before It bites off my ears

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  Jan 2020

Eerie Sky, Teasing Rain

The midweek word/photo challenge is; Family Albums. My article and poem isn’t really about a family album, but these are the photos I took today, depicting the eeriness of our smokey and rainy sky…. Please go and visit the Weekly Prompts site by clicking>> HERE

Above Feature Image: 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. The smokey sky and sun at end of my lane. Right. The thunderstorm this afternoon

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

 

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

And 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: As I’m about to post this article, we are having some heavy rain and there is more forecast for next Monday…. At last the sky is crying over the fires of South-Eastern Australia, hopefully enough to give our firefighters some much needed respite… Yeah.

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  Jan 2020

Has Our Horizon Gone?

The sky is a blanket of smoke

Today, I cannot see the sun

Has our horizon gone?

Mother nature is angry

Humans have forgotten about life’s harmony

And God, cannot stop their selfish greed

 

Have we burnt too many of earth’s bridges?

The animals didn’t make it down the ridges

Most wildlife has been traumatically diminished

Millions of native animals have perished

Nothing here, will ever be the same, in my lifetime

Tonight, in my sleep, I shall carry buckets of lime

 

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  Jan 2020

“Long Way Home” Lyrics, by Tom Waits

Well I stumbled in the darkness
I’m lost and alone
Though I said I’d go before us
And show the way back home
There a light up ahead
I can’t hold onto her arm
Forgive me pretty baby but I always take the long way homeMoney’s just something you throw
Off the back of a train
Got a head full of lightning
A hat full of rain
And I know that I said
I’d never do it again
And I love you pretty baby but I always take the long way homeI put food on the table
And roof overhead
But I’d trade it all tomorrow
For the highway instead
Watch your back if I should tell you
Love’s the only thing I’ve ever known
One thing for sure pretty baby I always take the long way homeYou know I love you baby
More than the whole wide world
You are my woman
I know you are my pearl
Let’s go out past the party lights
Where we can finally be alone
Come with me and we can take the long way home
Come with me, together we can take the long way home
Come with me, together we can take the long way home

 

Eating Our Own Waste

Is It only me ?

that feels this way

my thoughts gushing out to sea

without knowing what to say

 

our world is being flushed

down the sewer drain

water-rat politicians eating leftover crusts

every-time our dying clouds rain

 

never ending, poisoning of the bays

strangling plastic bags

suffocating polystyrene trays

wrapped in bloody newspaper flags

 

animals killed by our waste

governments retain their ego for greed

T.V. and press reports, via copy and paste

while our planet’s going to seed

 

are we trying our best ?

for the creatures in need

stop, this shitting, on our own nest

how much more can the oceans bleed ?

 

Ivor Steven (c)  July 2019

 

Juggling Our World

Are we lazy computer hacks

Blindly laying on our backs

Not caring for this solitary girl

Headlessly juggling our world

Placing nature in a guillotine of doubt

Ignoring her tears, inside and out

Tossing her grains of sand

From our feet into empty hands

Not catching her falling  dust

Upon yesterdays stolen trust

Washing down foreign lands

With bullet holed cans

Collecting  dirty money

From polluted milk and honey

Leaving undead souls

No air to breathe, and no goals

Throwing poisoned daggers into our hearts

Fearing our babies tainted blood, with every new restart

 

To Leave Something Behind, By Sean Rowe. Lyrics

I cannot say that I know you well
But you can’t lie to me with all these books that you sell
I’m not trying to follow you to the end of the world
I’m just trying to leave something behind

Words have come from men and mouse
But I can’t help thinking that I’ve heard the wrong crowd
When all the water is gone my job will be too
And I’m trying to leave something behind

Oh money is free but love costs more than our bread
And the ceiling is hard to reach
Oh the future ahead is broken and red
But I’m trying to leave something behind

This whole world is a foreign land
We swallow the moon but we don’t know our own hand
We’re running with the case but we ain’t got the gold
Yet we’re trying to leave something behind

My friends I believe we are at the wrong fight
And I cannot read what I did not write
I’ve been to His house, but the master is gone
But I’d like to leave something behind

There is a beast who has taken my brain
You can put me to bed but you can’t feel my pain
When the machine has taken the soul from the man
It’s time to leave something behind

Oh money is free but love costs more than our bread
And the ceiling is hard to reach
Oh the future ahead is already dead
So I’m trying to leave something behind

I got this feeling that I’m still at the shore
And pockets don’t know what it means to be poor
I can get through the wall if you give me a door
So I can leave something behind

Oh wisdom is lost in the trees somewhere
You’re not going to find it in some mental gray hair
It’s locked up from those who hurry ahead
And it’s time to leave something behind

Oh money is free but love costs more than our bread
And the ceiling is hard to reach
When my son is a man he will know what I meant
I was just trying to leave something behind
I was just trying to leave something behind

 

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Ivor Steven (c)  June 2019

Baby Vegetables And Puppy Dogs

The Sandbox Writing Challenge 2018 — Exercise 25

girl-in-trash

Do you see something of yourself in this little child? 
If so, what?

Baby Vegetables And Puppy Dogs

 

We can climb the tallest peaks

Where there’s the purest thin air to breathe

Yet we still dispossess children of their rightful freedom

Bagging them in plastic like vegetables in a fridge

 

We can dive into the oceans deepest chasms

Where without artificial lights it’s too dark to see

Yet we still blindfold children from the solar daylight

Abandoning them at night like forgotten homeless dogs

 

We can fly to the furthermost planets

Where there’s a willingness to meet the unknown

Yet we still treat frightened children like Saturn’s aliens

Caging them like feral animals in a desert zoo

 

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Featured Dog Pictures:  Bing, pinterest.com

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Time’s Awry

Last night I awoke in a pool of blood

Surviving Noah’s great flood

There was no bleeding horse head

It wasn’t a dream, I wasn’t dead

The nightlight died instead

A dark shadow engulfed my bed

Sheets of oozy dripping threads

A deep flowing red

From where, I do dread

Petrified, motionless I’m spread

 

The hole in my heart is dry

Fearful tears of crystal white I cry

My bloodshot eyes are weeping, time’s awry

Puddles of gore descend from the Boar’s sty

Visions of devils and angels pass my eyes

I’m not ready to say my goodbyes

Am I suddenly being nailed to the cross to die

Or is it, that cupids’ arrow in my thigh

 

Featured Image: The “You Yang” hills/mountains, just north of Geelong, for my dear friend Colleen of “Chatter Blog”

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

The Other Side Of Red White And Blue

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

Let Us Not Be Silent

Let us not turn a blind eye

Clear the dark clouds from our sky

Extract our heads from the sand

Join our national brass band

Blow loudly on your trumpets

Let us stop being pawns and puppets

We’re not the sheep of their lands

We can be the blanket for our lambs

A collective sheet, protective and grand

 

Let us not be silent and bland

Clear the stage, make a stand

The worlds suffering children need us

Before they’re herded onto the bus

Like lambs to the slaughter

Imagine, our sons and daughters

Laying on concrete, alone and caged

Crying, weeping, could it be our ice-age

We’re distraught and outraged

Compassion, love, is paramount on centre-stage

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018