Haiku: Our River

Dedicated to my dear wife, to celebrate her birthday on Wednesday the 17th April. I think my words say enough……    I’m  proud and honoured to present this Haiku on, “Go Dog Go Cafe” Promote Yourself Monday’s, and a sincere thank you to, ‘Midwest Fantasy’, for the invitation. I’m quite emotional this week, and I’ll apologise to fellow writers, and their articles, if I’m not reading and commenting, with my usual zest……


Our River


A true love runs deep

Our river flowed over rocks

Stones soften to sand


Ivor Steven (c)  2019

The Café Philos Poetry Prompt For Them That Be Wild Things (April 11, 2019)

A mind bending and interesting idea from Paul, I’m having a go with an old poem of mine.

Café Philos: an internet café

Now I see you standing
With brown leaves falling all around
And snow in your hair
Now you’re smiling out the window
Of that crummy hotel
Over Washington Square
Our breath comes out white clouds
Mingles and hangs in the air
Speaking strictly for me
We both could have died then and there
— Joan Baez, Diamonds and Rust

Has there been a moment, time, person, event, etc. in your life that you thought and felt was so beautiful and fulfilling you would not have regretted dying after it?

Not that you would have wanted to have died, but that you would have had no regrets afterwards.

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We will all travel, life’s journey

There’s  reality in the end, a concluding count down

Finality occurs, not a shadow of doubt

Sooner or later, we have to retire, and work no more

Old tools are laid to rest, gathering dust

There’s a time, when we have to say goodbye

To that special one’s,  sad crying eyes

Suddenly life propels us, to pass our friends lives

The people we knew, dwindle to a few

And beyond the lies, earth slowly dies

We the custodians, failed to see overcast skies

Our belief’s shriveled, inside religious sleeves

The jealous and greedy, are yet to eat their last supper

I hope tomorrow’s future, is better than today’s veiled ways

And yesterday’s trials, become the healing castle’s final say




Ivor Steven (c)  2019


Lamenting Joy – A Poem

I’ve read this compassionate poem several times already, “I Do Run’s” words have touched me deeply. Please read, if you are so inclined,….. There is no instant solution, but together with trillions of humane hearts there shall always be hope……..

I Do Run

Don’t you dare turn those unicorn eyes toward me
And keep your sparkly sparkles to yourself
That field was truly not meant for running or singing or dancing or jumping for joy.

Just stop with the rainbows and the technicolor sunsets
No need for close ups of baby chubby thighs
Or even your thighs sunning on white sand beaches.

Enough of the Sunday mornings watching your lover breathe
And definitely no more spontaneous water fights with the kids
Even those first moments that bring tears of joy are not the moments for me

No, not for me, wondering, how you can enjoy when
…..Children are kept in cages, sold to the highest bidder
…..Women are forced into dangerous back alleys, not owning their bodies
…..Veterans sleep on cardboard boxes, crazy instead of courageous
…..People still being judged by the back of their hand or the hand they’re holding

Unicorns and…

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My Bamboo Kite

Fly free, fly high

My bamboo kite

Bright orange and green

A colourful gliding sight

Your counter-weight tail fluttering

Like a flowing rainbow in the sky


Flying freer, flying higher

Your ground chains are broken

And the strong anchoring rope

Has shrank to a golden thread

Go away, and climb

Above the silver clouds


Eventually your thread will fray

Leaving a slither of mellow twine

Not strong enough

To stop you breaking free

Never long enough

To stop you soaring higher


Ivor Steven (c)  2019

The Oven Sky

The summer flowers have faded and gone

Wilting leaves, look like the devils blight

My Calendar declares Autumn is here

But it’s still summer in the city

Remaining hot and dusty, here on my plot

All the dogs are panting, searching for a cool block

Singed birds have refused to fly in the oven sky

Today’s furnace, is the night’s unwanted heater

Dry rot is crumbling, under the burning sun

Fat rain drops have forgotten their landing spots

And the drought smiles at us with disdain

As we gasp and wait for the cool change tonight


Ivor Steven (c)  2019

Tired Little Sparrow

How do you feel, my tired little sparrow

About removing more of your back marrow

They’re waving a pointy knife

What do they know, about your resurrected life


Hovering high above, Devastation Hill

Perched upon Noah’s lonely window sill

Your tiny wing looks broken, It’ll have to be reset

You’ll have to wait, to see who’s going to be your vet


How will you become stronger

Enabling you to, land and fly longer

The wall’s rose thorns, now appear deeper and sharper

Fragile and torn apart, your roaming, will now be harder


Ivor Steven (c)  2019