Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!!
He shot all the children down
Sandpits fill with blood
Bullets again pierced our hearts
Rightful laws still can’t be found
Ivor Steven (c) May
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!!
He shot all the children down
Sandpits fill with blood
Bullets again pierced our hearts
Rightful laws still can’t be found
Ivor Steven (c) May
I would surrender my poetic soul to you
If that could hand you compassion?
To help you stop your war
I would offer my shattered heart to you
If you are needing a piece of heart?
To help you stop your war
I would remove my crying eyes
and stay blind to you
If your ego is looking for guidance?
To help you stop your war
President Putin
Have you a shred of decency?
Left inside your arrogant mind
Would you?
Desert your grandchildren
And Evict them to be
Homeless and frightened
Ivor Steven (c) March 2022
Do they hear humanity’s fears?
Will that day come?
When all the big ears
Will listen as one
How many rivers of tears must we cry?
Before all our deepest wells run dry
How many innocent children must fall?
Before all the big ears hear their helpless calls
That wounded haunting drawl
The ghostly scrapping sound of homeless feet
Mournfully shuffling along their bombarded streets
Ivor Steven (c) March 2022
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
Hello dear readers and followers, as you may know, I now write for “Coffee House Writers” magazine on a fortnightly basis, and my poem “Red Lilies Under Broken Ground”, is in this weeks edition of Coffee House Writers Magazine. … please click on the link below and visit my poem, at Coffee House Writers >>
https://coffeehousewriters.com/red-lilies-under-broken-ground/
Red Lilies Under Broken Ground
Do the selfish greedy few
Watch the innocent die
And bleed upon the morning dew
Do they inhale the red dust
Above the crumbling homes of trust
Has their warring blackboard
Been desecrated by the blood-spattered horde
Sacrificed by their beheading swords
The white doves of peace are crying
While the red lilies of love
Lay under broken ground dying
Ivor Steven (c) March 2022
Introduction
Naked I stand before Him
Stripped of common decency
Debased, I kneel crying
Sad words fall like rain
Tanks are still rolling
Over the Ukraine
My Tanka’s are scrolling
Down their bloody drains
Tanka #1. Sad Sky
False words smudge old clouds
Gray clouds hang under sad sky
The sad sky decries
“Children are our butterflies
And please stop the warring lies”
Tanka #2. Broken Biscuits
Life is imperfect
Like broken war-time biscuits
Re-connection waits
Reconciliation stops
Life’s sweet shortbread’s unopened
Tanka #3. Abandoned
May the stormy winds
Calmly abate in Europe
And bring peace quickly
Do not forget the children
We cannot abandon them
Epilogue
Cover me
Give me beauty
Inspire me
Calm me
Save me
From that deadly bee
Above the Black Sea
Ivor Steven (c) March 2022
A big thank you to David Repath and Timothy Price for jointly inspiring to write this Haiku, https://offcenternoteven.com/2022/03/05/ukrainian-daze/ and for Timothy’s stunning music/video
Tomorrow’s Shadows
Shadows of today
Precede tomorrow’s darkest clouds
Silhouettes of doom
Ivor Steven (c) March 2022
Do you feel the weight?
Of radio-active clouds
Hanging over stolen ground
Do you hear the birds singing?
Gone!
Is that peaceful sound
Do you hear warning sirens howl?
Resonating like old war songs
When bombs are guided into sacred ground
Fires from hell destroying beds and towns
Gone!
As ashen children wander over burnt ground
Home is a communal air-raid shelter
Where families fearfully huddle together underground
Above!
The torn loyalties of alien soldiers
Tread lightly and warily upon broken ground
Ivor Steven (c) March 2022
Can you hear the ghosts of Sunday?
“Sunday, Bloody Sunday”
From your distant country’s
On the edge of peace and tranquility
Within your rural trees of serenity
Beyond invisible borders of rivalry
Between oblivious inequality
From the old schoolyard bully
Overseeing an avoidable atrocity
Again another “Sunday, Bloody Sunday”
How can they forget history so quickly?
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