I’m Helping Out

Dear readers, if you so desire, please read this article below by BottomLessCoffee, it’s an interesting idea, and one I’m already participating in by sending off this post. Help Me, Help You.

Help Me, Help You

Q. What is the one thing all of us Bloggers want?

A. Circulation!

We all have a skill and that is writing and expression. We all have different styles and genres. I’ve been giving shout outs to a few of you on every podcast in the hopes of helping others to find you.

I want to propose a sharing promotion. If you want me to give your blog or business or social media a shout out on my next podcast, please use the comment section to notify me of whatever it is. Be sure to provide the links, so I can put them in the description of the podcast.

Whenever I publish a podcast, I also promote it on my blog. This way, both listeners and readers have access to the exact same information.

With all of this being said, I want more circulation as well. So, please give me a shout-out on your blog and other social media as well. Please include my links also.

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/bc007

https://bottomlesscoffee007.com

We all want circulation, real circulation. Help me help you. Who knows maybe someone will become $uccessful. It’s worth a shot and it doesn’t cost anything!

If you want me to promote your business, then the flip side of this is you must have the links to my blog and my podcast on your companies website (easy to find and somewhere where it will stand out).

My last caveat is this, there is no such thing as bad publicity. With that being said, it is on each individual to decide what they will say about the other’s. I will not read from a script and I would not expect you to either.

Let me know!!!

Beyond The Trapdoor

Hi dear readers, I’m home !! Below is the 2nd poem that I had published  in the Geelong Writers General Anthology, 2018.

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Beyond The Trapdoor

 

I’ve been there so often

I’ve lost my fear, gone, forgotten

The darkest abyss

Under a cobblestone crest

Opening into a gloomy manhole

Trapdoor to the soul

 

Below the floor

My elbows do score

Over dried out soil

Beneath sticky cobweb curtains

Fingernails claw my way

Toes pushing against crumbled clay

 

No space, dusty tears

No air, dirt I chew

Shouldering under bearers

Squeezing, I burst through

I’m here, there’s a job to do

I begin searching for you

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

A Blue Shark In My bed

I’m lying in bed, hallucinating

They’ve given me too many pain killers

Swimming between soaked sheets

In an ocean of hot sweat

I see a blue shark in my bed

Angrily circling me

That killers glint in his eyes

His giant jaws open wide

And he viciously bites me

Piercing my lower neck

And poking my left eye out

My blood is boiling on the red sea

 

If this is hell, please ring the bell

I shall pray to save my soul, and be set free

I’m swirling in drugs, I cannot think

My eyes are shut, I cannot blink

Where are you mum

I was always your number one

She’d make me my favourite cake

A passion-fruit sponge she’d bake

I sense a benevolent friend, if he’s not too late

Smuggling me a gun, past white guards, inside mum’s cake

 

To you who cannot see me, I’m an ancient fable

Who’s about to leave the table

With the rest of the disabled

I’ll look for you, in your higher stables

How can I find my way back

I’ve lost my winding track

Life for me cannot be the same

I’m not recovering, I’m losing the game

Forgotten my name and where to aim

Destiny has me old and lame

 

 

Ivor  Steven (c)  2018

Blue-stone Cellar

Old wooden steps

Going down, worn and steep

Revealing a cellar, candle-lit

Walls of blue-stone blocks

With a stained cedar ceiling

Creating a friendly aura of closeness

Intimate and cosy

A perfect place for Mr Cohen’s spirit to be

 

Sweet Amie Brulee

Sings and plays his songs

And in between, graciously reads his poetry

Jovially chats to the audience

Relaxed and carefree

Her demure smile is spontaneous

Divulging stories about his works

With enthusiasm and passion

Infusing her own subtle wit and humour

A show of genuine warmth and charm

From his tower of song, Leonard would be pleased

 

The two video’s below, are with my Phone, a Samsung Galaxy S 5. Hopefully the cyberspace mail-man delivers them intact. The first video below, is of Amie recited Leonard Cohen’s poem, “Ballard of the Absent Mare”

The second video below, is of Amie, singing, “Leaving The Table”, sorry but you may have to turn the volume up.

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

 

A Pleasant Sunday

Featured Image:  Above: Martin, father of Finn, Niamh and Tia.

Yesterday !! was a PJ’s day, today was another day. Sunday has been an Aussie barbecue, get together day, that I happily, was fortunate to be a part of. Please enjoy the photos, and soak up some of the afternoon’s atmosphere in the video links, oh gee, I hope they work. My friend Terry on the guitar, and Tom on the fiddle(the father of the gorgeous 6 month old baby girl, Eva, who is being fed during the video) and we are celebrating the occasion of Martin’s daughter, Tia, visiting from England, with her son Charlie and partner Jamie. A wonderful gathering of family and friends. I’m so hoping the videos work. ……….. Please let me know, they’re just videos off my phone that I transferred here via Google media, and I had no idea how to transpose them here………

Above & Below: Terry and Tom player a couple of traditional Irish songs.

Below: Terry singing a great Redgum classic song, Diamantina Drover

Photos Below:  Top Left, Tom and his daughter Eva, Top Right, Terry and Martin’s daughter Niamh , Bottom, Martin, baby Eva, and that dog Monty licking Ava’s fingers

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Lazy Saturday

Lazy Saturday

 

Do you have these days too

Lethargic and you’re looking askew

I’ve not got out of my PJ’s today

Lazed around all Saturday

Ate more than I should’ve

Morning exercises went on my list of could of’s

My daily walk flew away

Through the unopened front doorway

The courtyard beckoned, empty it would stay

I couldn’t tell you about the weather

You could’ve knocked me over with a feather

The wind stopped me from seeing my weed till

And when rolling stones covered my window-sill

I primed my room with sounds of rock’s

In my bachelors haven full of silk socks

I didn’t feel sad, nor guilty

I’m calm and cosy, within my commonality

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

 

There’s More

It’s eleven seventeen

I’m not nineteen

Anymore

Old warriors are bold

I’ll not be told

Anymore

Enjoyed an evening out

I’m not losing face

Anymore

Tired eyes are closing

I’m not going fishing

Anymore

Hands of time have been

I’ll not be unseen

Anymore

My feet are willing to travel

I’m not covered in gravel

There’s more

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018