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

Waiting (Revised)

Hello readers and followers, this is poem I posted 3 weeks ago, but today I’ve revised some words and the format. I read this poem to my poetry group on Sunday, and after the usual discussion the group suggested some subtle changes, to give my piece an even more powerful punch….. and after swapping things around a little, this is my revised poem…. with sincere thanks to members of my wonderful poetry group…..below I’ve attached a photo of the original poem….

Waiting

 

The earth is waiting

Sick of humans stalling

And their time wasting

They know it’s time

 

Waiting for their promised cheers

Waiting for less destructive years

Will they give her resolutions

Of better times ahead

Will they finally read

Thor’s neon signs

Will they notice

A smoke covered sun

Will they be able to breathe the air

As a united one

 

The earth cannot watch

Nor wait

While humans

Fill their own greedy plates

 

Why are they celebrating?

Like blind fools, that are always pretending

As if nothing is going wrong

They can hear the whales crying songs

They can see the polar caps are melting

They can taste the venom of government’s lying

img517 (2)

In the following video/song, if you could metaphorically place earth and human’s between the lyrics, you might understand why I chose this song by Damien Rice..

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  Jan 2020

The Analogue Academy

Hello readers, today I’m presenting my first Haibun. The Haibun is a prosimetric literary form originating in Japan, combining prose and haiku. The range of haibun is broad and frequently includes autobiography, diary, essay, prose poem, short story and travel journal.

Yesterday I travelled by bus into the city centre, to visit the unique Analogue Academy, an art gallery, a creative arts school, including a coffee shop/bar, and a drop-off depot for photographers to have their films developed. Definitely a friendly venue for creative  people to meet, and enjoy the atmosphere of the rustic and comfortable surroundings. And of course Ivor had his usual coffee, cake and a few beers. The specific purpose of my outing was to view an exhibition of paintings by local artist, Jacklyn Foster, who is a fellow member of Geelong’s ‘Lowercase Poetry Group’. I found her display, “Replying To Spam Emails” to be imaginative and colourful, and I was very satisfied with myself that I had made the effort to attend the Analogue Academy.

 

Gallery

 

Uniquely homely

Creativity set free

Here’s Tullawalla**

 

** Tullawalla, and an aboriginal word meaning, ‘a place to sit and meet’

Below: A fabulous painting by Jacklyn Foster

Below: Jacklyn Foster’s paintings in the display area at Analogue Academy

 

Below: Photos of the Cafe area

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  Jan 2020

Promote Yourself Monday, January 20, 2020

Please come join me and multitudes of other writers here on Go Dog Go Cafe’s, “Promote Yourself Monday”

Go Dog Go Café

Promote yourself Mon

Welcome to Promote Yourself Monday.  All Go Dog Go Cafe community members are invited to post one link to one specific piece of their writing (600 words or less please!) they have published on their blog, Facebook page, or Instagram feed into the comments section below.

If you post a link, be sure to read some of the other great writing people have linked to.

View original post

Poppy-Kettle

This weekend the Word/Photo Challenge is ‘Unusual‘. And today I went down to the beautiful Geelong waterfront for a picnic lunch and a walk around the picturesque foreshore, and afterwards, sitting at the Valhalla Bar, sipping on a beer or two, I wrote this attached poem, about the ‘unusual’ Poppy-Kettle display  Please go and visit the “Weekly Prompt” by clicking >> HERE

Poppy-Kettle

 

My lost week has fallen into Sunday

And I’m going out to enjoy the clear sunshine

The Geelong skyline is finally smoke free

Our Corio Bay is unusually dead-calm

The water is like a glassy blue mirror

As I stroll along grassy banks of the foreshore

I rest myself upon a big quartz rock

Under the shade of a palm tree

 

A perfect locale to have my picnic lunch

Sitting next to an intriguing Poppy-Kettle display

Miniature bronze statues for everyone to see

A children’s mystical piece of fantasy land

Nearby there’s also a fairy tale’s giant green dragon

Dragons are a mythical favourite of mine

The area has an aura of a child’s magical kingdom

And my dreamy imagination grasps me to be almost there

 

 

 

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  Jan 2020

Unsteady Quill

Below an overcast sky

A crack appears in my cloud of guilt

This widening chasm darkened

Distorting the edges of distant memories

 

A dear friend, passed away, last week

I didn’t get to say goodbye

His funeral, was private

And I need to send a condolence card

 

For these seven days of my life

The card has stayed on my table

I’m trying to write to his bereaved wife

But my hand’s unsteady and not able

 

I’m yet to put pen to card

I’m yet to allow myself to cry hard

I’m yet to push myself to go an extra yard

Now, I must get my head out of these clouds

Lift my quill, for a mate, who was brave and proud

 

Ivor Steven (c)  Jan 2020