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

 

 

 

 

 

Waiting Time

A poem for my Dad today..

G’day dear readers, well this is my 6th poem that has been published in Geelong Writers publications during the last week. My poem appears in the Chapbook “Sailing In The Wind”. The book is the result of an Ekphrastic Writing Workshop at Boom Gallery here in Geelong.

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Waiting Time

 

I’m a time-traveler on a mission

Waiting for a personal vision

An image of my father’s ghost

To appear above the white-water coast

 

Millenniums ago, I delivered him to the ocean

Threw his ashes across the horizon

Away from faceless time-clocks

Away from hidden jagged rocks

 

Now I see him proudly standing afloat

Wondering who’s left to row the boat

Waiting for the breeze, without a sail

Seeking his passage through soundless hail

Beyond tumbling waves, a prism of light

Waiting stops, his alien spirit soars  tonight

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

Back Home

What a difference

Twenty four hours makes

I’m back, on this other side

Of the world

I woke up dreaming

In the southern hemisphere

Feeling inside out

And upside down

I’ve gone from a warm evening

To a freezing morning

I’ve travelled in time

And I’m struggling to find my rhyme

I left my new family behind

All so generous and kind

There’s many stories to be written

About that friendly new kitchen

Now I’m having breakfast alone

But here I am, home sweet home

Ivor Steven (c)  2019

It’s Time To Leave

 

 

It’s Time To Leave

 

It’s time to tidy up my mess

Clean up the room and get dressed

It’s time to pack my suitcase

Fill the travel bag and vacate this place

It’s time to put on my famous rocker shoes

And walk away from this dream come true

It’s time to say heartfelt goodbyes

To these wonderful Philadelphia guys

It’s time for final hugs and kisses

Sad farewells and best wishes

It’s time for my usual emotional tears

Separate myself from these every day cheers

It’s time to flyaway from a land of Dragons and fairies

Leave this magical world of faraway families

It’s time to say a million thank you’s

For making my stay a Really Real great do

It’s time for me to travel back home

With glorious memories of this mystical thunderdome

 

Ivor Steven (c)  May 2019

A Tune Of Success

On this weekend, a year ago, I was in the 4th week of my stay with my cousins in Philadelphia…. and I think my body was living on adrenaline……

 

A Tune Of Success

 

I’m sleeping in today

As I awake to a rainy Sunday

Cloudy, fat drops of grey

 

My body needs a rest

As a happy heart, pounds in my chest

Quietly, my soul beats a tune of success

 

I’m living in a hive of honey and bees

Covered by flowers and hugging trees

Once an injured mystery bird, now set free

 

 

Ivor Steven (c) 2019

Kingdom of Flowers

Remembering my wonderful trip to the magnificent “Longwood Gardens”, founded by Pierre S. du Pont, an hour west of Philadelphia, near Kennett Township. A day I shall never forget, especially with my two  fabulous cousins Terry and Maureen.

Kingdom of Flowers

I stood in His kingdom today

Of flowers and fragrances

Holding her colourful bouquet

Amazed by His stunning flower-bed

I gazed at heaven’s golden archway

Guarded by rows of leafy hedges

Underneath, lay edges of reds and blues

And soft petals of yellows and purples

I floated, from the ground cover shrubbery

To the canopy’s crested scenery

Where the horizon’s reflection

enchanted my eye

Sprinkling rainbows across His azure sky

 

 

Ivor Steven (c) 2019

I’m Just A Boy

On Tuesday 12th, it was ‘World Limerick Day’, and to celebrate the day I wrote this Limerick….. I do enjoy writing Limericks, but I don’t usually post them on my site, so while I’m taking a rest from serious writings/poems, I thought I’d present this one today.

 

I’m Just A Boy

 

There was a boy from Geelong

Who usually wore shorts and thongs

Winter fell from the hills

His ankles felt the chill

So woolly socks and beanie he did don

 

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  May 2020

Beyond The Wreckage

Ashamedly, I closed my eyes

To keep out the darkening sky

Shadows have stolen my sight

And my dreams vanished in the night

 

As I knelt to open the crack

I saw a messiah in black

He said “Let there be light”

“The World is not your fight”

“The power of the sun breathes

Upon our life giving trees

Let the doves deliver your message

Your words of love, beyond the wreckage”

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  May 2020

Women

It’s Mothers Day here in Australia, ….. This is a poem I wrote last year, for the two mothers of my life…. my wife Carole… and my mother Esther….. remembering your shared love for each other, and for the love I received…. I was truly a blessed man…

 

Women

 

After I had left the hem

I, without women

Could not have survived, my time

And I, would not have braved, the climb

Women, you are my rhyme

My mothers of thyme

 

Helping me roll away the stone

Maintaining these old bones

Repairing the bridges I’ve burnt

Reciting the messages I’ve learnt

Cheering from the sidelines

Supporting these broken designs

Women for rhymes

Mothers for a lifetime

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  Nov 2019

Togetherness

 

Togetherness

 

I remember

Bringing you two into my house

And quietly I sat with you

Upon my courtyard bench

You were both

Dry and lifeless

 

I diligently prepared your beds

And gently tucked you two in

Wishing you a bright and prosperous future

With care and love

Under my watchful eye

Together you flourished and adorned my home

And together your arms reached out

Embracing each other

Now here together

We live together as one

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  May 2020