Tullawalla Booklets, at “Grill’d” On Pakington Street

Here I am at “Grill’d” On Pakington Street

Enjoying a few relaxing beers

I introduce myself to Ryan, chef and barman, in charge

We chat about our travel adventures

Then I happened to mention that I’m a writer

And he’s genuinely interested in my poetry booklets

After talking about the purpose of my writings

Ryan enthusiastically agrees to display a couple of my books

On the restaurant’s customer magazine rack

I’m humbled, and smiling, beyond pleased

I explain to Ryan, there’s an advert inside the covers

Informing the readers, that they may purchase the books

A few blocks down, on Pakington Street

At the counter of the M.S. Charity shop

With all proceeds going to the M.S. Society

I gratefully shake Ryan’s hand

And I say I’ll be back regularly, to change-over the booklets

Cheers To Ryan, and a sincere thank you to “Grill’d” On Pakington Street.

 

Please take the time to Click on this link to find out more about, “Grill’d” On Pakington Street.  https://www.grilld.com.au/restaurants/victoria/geelong/pakington-st#GoogleLocal

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  August 2019

The Other Side Of Red White And Blue

Suddenly I’m awake, it’s only 1.30 am, what’s happened !!  There’s car horns and cheering, like a New Year Eve’s party, why is there such a rowdy noise going on !!  Yeah…. now I remember… happy 4th of July to all of my American family and friend’s… ENJOY……

 

The Other Side Of Red White And Blue

Poem by Ivor Steven, adapted to prose by Claudia Collins

 

It was the fourth of July. The party seems to be finished. I’m wondering how long I dozed off for. Most of my friends have gone; a few bodies left, lying 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 skin is a whiter shade of pale, red lip-stick all askew.’

Then I see myself in the mirror. My white shirt is moist and filthy; agape, 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 there, in a hurry.

Thump! I trip over. I thought, ‘that bloke is asleep.’ I didn’t notice at first … his red shirt is 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? ‘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 I 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 vivid red and white eyes. I see fangs protruding over her blue lips. Dribbling fresh blood, she hisses at me and 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?’

I’m screaming tears of red, white, and blue.

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  July 2019