An Empty Bootie

Featured Image Above: Taken by Derrick Knight >> https://derrickjknight.com/2022/12/14/tingling-toes/



An Empty Bootie



The chilly winter’s day

Turned hard and bitter



“be a good little chap Dave

could you be brave

and venture back to the frozen lake

your baby sister Ava

has lost a bootie

and the weather is too cold

for her to go without

Dave shrugs his shoulders

And trudges off


“Oh Ava, I wonder

What’s taking Dave so long”


Suddenly two hysterical children

Came running towards them

“Help!”

“we just a boy

fall through the ice

on the frozen lake

we look into the hole

but all we saw

was a babies bootie

“He was Gone!”



..




Tullawalla is Available From;

Jaymah Press:https://www.jaymahpress.com.au/

Ivor Steven: email, ivorrs20@gmail.com

Amazon: search via, ‘Tullawalla by Ivor Steven’


AND
Perceptions is Now Available via:

Jaymah Press: https://www.jaymahpress.com.au/

Lulu Books: https://www.lulu.com/shop/ivor-steven-and-derrick-knight/perceptions/hardcover/product-2pwqe4.html?q=Perceptions+by+Ivor+Steven&page=1&pageSize=4

OR: email me directly for a signed copy – ivorrs20@gmail.com



Ivor Steven (c) December 2022

I Am Going To Die

Featured Image Above; ‘Waiting for Rainfall – Winton Wetlands, a painting by Geelong Artist/Poet, Jo Curtain, and the image was this weeks Geelong Writers Inc. Ekphrastic Photo Prompt, that subsequently inspired my ‘morbid’ poem below

I Am Going to Die




I am a fish out of water

Writhing and flopping

In this polluted puddle

Splosh!

Another toxic garbage bag

Squelches by

How did I ever survive

Here, in the wetland’s stagnant cesspools


Now, my rotting sun-burnt scales

Are covered in flies

Swarming!

The flies are sticking to my eyes

Maggots are clogging my gills

I cannot breathe


I hear Mother calling

“There is no need to cry

It’s your time to die”

Splosh!

The hovering vultures

Have begun swooping







Tullawalla is Available From;

Jaymah Press:https://www.jaymahpress.com.au/

Ivor Steven: email, ivorrs20@gmail.com

Amazon: search via, ‘Tullawalla by Ivor Steven’


AND
Perceptions is Now Available via:

Jaymah Press: https://www.jaymahpress.com.au/

Lulu Books: https://www.lulu.com/shop/ivor-steven-and-derrick-knight/perceptions/hardcover/product-2pwqe4.html?q=Perceptions+by+Ivor+Steven&page=1&pageSize=4

OR: email me directly for a signed copy – ivorrs20@gmail.com





Ivor Steven (c) December 2022

Seventy-one Today

I went to a friend’s funeral yesterday afternoon, he was Seventy-one too, and a few weeks ago I went to see him in hospital after he had suffered a bad stroke … He was home alone, and they found him on the floor 3 days after he had the stroke … We went to school together 55 years ago … Last night I was sad and alone with my furry friend Frankie … Today is my 71st birthday, and I am emotionally appreciating life, after suffering 3 strokes of my own in recent times …
Attacked below is a new song by Loner Deer, ‘Leather Hat’ and his lyrics, seem to capture the feelings of my mood and thoughts today.


Loner Deer. ‘Leather Hat’, Lyrics

Today, no one came in my team
But I don’t wanna be the one
Who got no friends, no buddies in the house
But it’s not a big deal ’cause I never be alone
Under my Leather Hat, under my leather hat

This morning I want to play, but Momma said “no”
I have to clean my room but I just wanna be outside
Hang out with my friends, but I don’t have many plans
So, I’m just waiting in my bed and looking on the wall
At my leather hat, at my leather hat
Give me trust and give me wings, I guess some people want it
But I ain’t looking for the fame, I don’t forget where I come from

When Grandpa drives me through the fields
He tells me what I have to think about
That no one tells me what to do
I’m rich, I’m strong, I’m feeling good
Under my leather hat, under my leather hat

Give me trust and give me wings, I guess some people want it
But I ain’t looking for the fame, I don’t forget where I come from

Today, no one came in my team
But I don’t wanna be the one
Who got no friends, no buddies in the house
But it’s not a big deal ’cause I never be alone
Under my Leather Hat, under my leather hat






Ivor Steven (c) July 2022

Her Everlasting Smile (a Villanelle)

Next Sunday at my monthly “Poetry Dome” meeting we are required to write a ‘Villanelle’ , and below is my attempt at the ‘Format’ … which I have adapted from an old favourite poem of mine, “Everlasting Smile”, you’ll find my original poem attached below the Villanelle …


Her Everlasting Smile (a Villanelle)




I wonder, was it all worthwhile

My chest, heavy as never before

Remembering, her everlasting smile


I look back, on her unfortunate life-style

Being unable to walk and talk anymore

I wonder, was it all worthwhile


I relive, her personal exile

My throat, swollen and sore

Remembering, her everlasting smile


I hesitate, retracing every mile

My tears, splash on the floor

I wonder, was it all worthwhile


I cringe, behind my happy profile

My heart, has forgotten how to roar

Remembering, her everlasting smile


I sleep alone, awaiting the next trial

My tongue, tired, needs to say more

I wonder, was it all worthwhile

Remembering, her everlasting smile




______________________________________
______________________________________


Everlasting Smile


My eyes, narrowly cracked.

My cheeks, slightly etched.
I rest here, retracing every mile.
Remembering, your everlasting smile.

My lips, already dry.
My tongue, trying to say goodbye
.
I wonder, was it all worthwhile.
Remembering, your loneliest smile.

My throat, lumpy and sore.
My chest, heavy as never before.

I look back, recalling your life-style.
Remembering, your younger smile.

My lungs, empty and tight.
My legs, weak and light.
I relive, your personal exile.
Remembering, your generous smile.

My head, spinning from fright.
My heart, deep and out of sight.
I sleep alone, crying like a child.
Remembering, your everlasting smile.







Ivor Steven (c) July 2022

Throwback Friday, A Voice in the Mist, by Ivor Steven

I found this old poem in a dusty foolscap folder under a pile of “stuff” I was tidying up … maybe from 15 years …

Go Dog Go Café

Today’s poem is one that I have not published on my web/blog site, and I am not sure when I first wrote the original words. Up until now, this a piece that has been filed away in a foolscap folder.

A Voice in the Mist

The moon’s my patriarch

My dream, glowing in the dark

She’s a vision, no feel, no mound

Only a voice, without sound

A distant shining, so forlorn

My heartache until dawn

She’s a pillow, no caress, no kiss

Only a voice, from beyond the mist

Ivor Steven (c) July 2022

G’day, and welcome to my blog site. My name is Ivor Steven, I live in Geelong, Australia. I’m an ex-industrial chemist, and a retired plumber, and a former Carer of my wife(Carole), for 30 years, who suffered from severe MS. I Write poetry about those personal thoughts, throughout and beyond my life as a Carer…

View original post 51 more words

Did Your Heart Stop Too?

Ten years ago today, it was the “Time” that I made a “heart stopping decision”


Did Your Heart Stop Too?


Did you cry too?

When the doctors told you

She was not going to recover


Did they ask you too?

About what you already knew

It was time

To flick the switch

And dim her light


Did your heart stop too?

Knowing

You had emptied her shoes


Did you sleep there too?

During those infinite days of blue

Softly holding her hand

And not letting go


Did you weep too?

Blankly alone

In her full room

Waiting

For her last silent breath






Ivor Steven (c) April 27th 2022

Level Seven

Today with this reblog, my hospitalisation story, in poems from three years ago continues …



Level Seven


I’m here on level seven

I might nearly see heaven

Suddenly the silent wall slaps me hard

With a soul shattering boom

My heart recites to me, her tune of doom

A building of gray bricks

Comes crashing down on me

I’m crying remorseful tears

‘Twas her hospital for thirty years

We would always either be home or here

Backwards and forwards

Short visits, long stays

Inside out, upside down

Wounded hopes, broken dreams

Decades of her gracious courage, never undenied

Now I lay on her memories, here she died


Ivor Steven (c) 2018