Dear Friends, A Letter To You

Dear friends

Last night I went out

Enjoyed myself

Good company and plenty of fun

There were some children there

I saw the children laughing

At the foolish antics

Of us silly adults

I arrived back home

After midnight

Then I read in bed

Some of my blog comments

Responses to my recent poems

About “We can help the children”

I was deeply touched

I started crying

Emotions tore at my heartstrings

Tears flooded my soul

Your replies were sincere

And compassionately moving

Dear friends

I thank you

One and all

May our solidarity

“Help the children”

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Tit Bits #13

This is my 13th writing of “Tit Bits”, and coincidently today is Friday 13th. I’m not sure whether this means good luck or bad luck for my post today ??

Our pain is like rain

The pain comes and goes

Heavy and light

He’s got us trumped

There’s more poison

In his venom

The facts are there, for all to see

But all the blind eyes are covered in cotton wool

Their ears are buried in the sand

And toes paddling in their own bullshit quagmire

Now is the time to help

Doing the little things that count

Little step after little step

And in time they become one big stride

I hope these tears of mine

Become the glassy mirrors

Of hope

For the frightened children

They need our love

Love is a life-line

Love feeds a soul

Love revives a heart

Love is the meaning of life

Life is love

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018 

 

A Single Atom

Weekly Word Prompt:  Subliminal  click to view all the responses to this weeks word prompts 

For the weekly word prompt “Subliminal” I’m reposting this old poem of mine “A Single Atom”, which I originally created from a very mixed up and vague dream I had when I was experiencing a lot of guilt complexes about a new relationship I was having at the time, only a year after my wifes passing. My subconscious was subtly  injecting doubts into my mind during my sleep !!  

I see a shooting star, traverse the full-moon

Like a jungle bushfire, raging out of sight

I feel the heat of midday, smothering the night

Like a warm body, inside her tomb

I see the dawn, without the golden sun

Like a Lyrebird, singing all out of tune

I hear the morning rain, without a cloud in the sky

Like yesterdays floods, leaving her high and dry

I see a sandy beach, awash by a tidal wave

Like a burning desert, water is her grave

I fill lonely sheets, with empty dreams

Like a dark chasms’ irrelevant beams

I see a summer leaf, wilted by a frosty Autumn

Like an unwatered orchid, opening to an old anthem

I feel like a splintered heart, inside a single atom

Like a snakes dead skin, her rejected emblem

 

Ivor Steven. (c)  2018

 

Baby Vegetables And Puppy Dogs

The Sandbox Writing Challenge 2018 — Exercise 25

girl-in-trash

Do you see something of yourself in this little child? 
If so, what?

Baby Vegetables And Puppy Dogs

 

We can climb the tallest peaks

Where there’s the purest thin air to breathe

Yet we still dispossess children of their rightful freedom

Bagging them in plastic like vegetables in a fridge

 

We can dive into the oceans deepest chasms

Where without artificial lights it’s too dark to see

Yet we still blindfold children from the solar daylight

Abandoning them at night like forgotten homeless dogs

 

We can fly to the furthermost planets

Where there’s a willingness to meet the unknown

Yet we still treat frightened children like Saturn’s aliens

Caging them like feral animals in a desert zoo

 

2879fc5fd8ee206933fc8e28efd98433--veggies-boxer-love

Featured Dog Pictures:  Bing, pinterest.com

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Grindstone Potion

From before the start

You ripped out my heart

And splintered my bones

With your sharpest stones

You laugh and mock

I’m pieces of crushed rock

 

Waiting at every station

You left me in slow motion

With beach-sand in my pocket

I’m holding an empty locket

Cast adrift in the ocean

I’m free of your grindstone potion

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

Featured Image:  Bing.  whyou.deviantart.com

I Am Not A Child, I Am An Adult, I Can Help

As a poet I’ve been on a writing campaign for the suffering children throughout the world, and I’ve developed a special interest in the awful situation of the misplaced, separated and lost refugee children in Texas, and with the help of Niki Flow, I’m a supporter and contributor of the “Texas Civil Rights Project”, and some of you may have already read her article,   https://nikiflow.wordpress.com/2018/07/06/updates-from-texas/ If you would like to donate to the Project group,  https://texascivilrightsproject.org/donate/

 “If we don’t stand up for children, then we don’t stand for much.” – Marian Wright Edelman. 

I’m going to re-present these 5 poems that I’ve written since June 22nd, Blind And Unkind, We Are Not Worthy Nor Grand, When Do They Play, Together We Can Help, Let Us Not Be Silent

Blind And Unkind

What are you leaders fighting for

What happens when all the trees are gone

What do your empty heads actually see

Do you have sack-clothes covering your eyes

Do you have a finger stuck in your noses

Do you know the smell of life or death

Where’s your collective greed going to

Where’s your silent mouths and ears

Where’s the air we breathe

What are you world rulers doing to our land

What happens when the oceans are poison

What do you egotists sip on

Why are you deaf dumb and blind

Why are you arrogant and unkind

Why are you ignoring the future of mankind

We Are Not Worthy Nor Grand  ……

 

The Time-travelers have been and gone

Transcending the stars and beyond

Leaving us the message carved in stone

Obvious warnings, pointing the bone

“You are not worthy, nor grand

to care for Mother Earth’s beautiful land”

Decrying our humankinds faults

Locking our world’s children in vaults

Poisoning our plants, rivers, and seas

Contaminating the air we breathe

Burning our forests

Vehicle fumes

Nuclear bombs

Rulers greed

Before we even feed

Our fellow-man

Slaughter upon slaughter

Like we’re lambs

Guns and bullets

Millions for every bloody stand

Like seeds in our hands

Not giving life, only death and sand

We are not worthy, nor grand

It’s time, to make a stand

Who’s going to lead our band

 

For the innocent children. “There can be no keener revelation of a society’s soul than the way in which it treat its children.” – Nelson Mandela.

When Do They Play

Our emotions are boiling on high

Lowly governments are hiding like spies

When do the children play

Where do their Moms and Dads stay

Why should we have to pray

This is not our humane way

Promised tomorrows should be theirs today

Please, when do the children play

Quote #2, “Together We Can Help”

“Fellow Writers, We Have The Power, We Have A Voice, We Have A Pen, Collectively, We’re Able To Help, Help The Children Of The World, Stop Them Crying For Help.”

Together We Can Help

 

It’s Time

Time to have a say

Voice your feelings

Tell your stories

Use your pen

Speak from your soul

Talk about their little feet

Feel their mammas heartbeat

Give your all

Walk tall

We need to help

Children is my prompt

Lets do the stomp

It’s your call

One and all

Don’t let the children crawl

Save them before they fall

Let Us Not Be Silent

Let Us Not Be Silent

Let us not turn a blind eye

Clear the dark clouds from our sky

Extract our heads from the sand

Join our national brass band

Blow loudly on your trumpets

Let us stop being pawns and puppets

We’re not the sheep of their lands

We can be the blanket for our lambs

A collective sheet, protective and grand

 

Let us not be silent and bland

Clear the stage, make a stand

The worlds suffering children need us

Before they’re herded onto the bus

Like lambs to the slaughter

Imagine, our sons and daughters

Laying on concrete, alone and caged

Crying, weeping, could it be our ice-age

We’re distraught and outraged

Compassion, love, is paramount on centre-stage

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018