sweet strength

“I escape the boundaries /Of imagination” still stunning in such simple complexity. This has to be a boot title – perhaps a compilation of your poems, Yassy. I am past awed by your wordchoice and wordplay, each rings so true and brings smiles of delight.


The color of breath
In the blue of heartbeat
Sweet strength of unseen..

I find my heart as
Soul succumbs to the sweet strength
Of spirit's wisdom...

My spirit flowers
As starglow sparks ivory
In a moon etched heart...

With heartbound eyes
I escape the boundaries 
Of imagination....

Vanilla laced clouds 
Wait for the melody of night
Ad i find sweet strength 
In the existence of your heartbeat..

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Ivor Steven Wants To Sell You A Poem

I’ve finished self printing quite few copies of Tullawalla, a Booklet/Leaflet of my latest poems. I actually make them up off my own computer, for our local MS Charity Shop, and they sell my Poems over the counter, with all proceeds going to the Geelong MS Shop. And along with myself selling/pushing copies to my […]

via Tullawalla, Poems By Ivor Steven — Ivor.Plumber/Poet


possibly “an evening etude”? But, first, go look up etude – did so: well, close. An instrumental study of sorts one might say. Do the leaves remind of ivory with tiny teardropped tympani playing the part of fingers: my what a wide span you play. Thanks, Bruce for the trip to the diccionario!

Cat Nap Revue

of rain upon leaves
an evening prelude

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I believe I once learned that the best pies come from non-Jack ‘O Lanterns – different breed, but since I just had my first pumpkin pie but three years ago, who am I to gainsay Bruce’s granny? The Haiku, Senryu makes my want to try for my second slice – vengeance on all those scary smiling not-pies!

Cat Nap Revue

in granny’s kitchen
smug jack-o-lanterns
become pumpkin pies

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‘Til Death Do Us Part

Whilst reading The Likes on a Mick E. Talbot work I reblogged recently.


TO ALL MY DEAR READERS, A GREAT PIECE OF NEWS FOR ME TODAY, THIS POEM HAS BEEN SELECTED TO APPEAR IN THE GEELONG WRITERS ANTHOLOGY 2017. And I’m feeling blessed and honoured, on this, Leonard Cohen’s Anniversary week of his death last year, 7th November. And thank you, Leonard Cohen, for being there as a guiding light through-out all of my life. 

‘Til Death Do Us Part.

She’s there, in that tall pale building of brick.

Where the Nightingales care and tend to the sick.

She’s there, away from home and her comforting bed.

Where the Doctors try to fix the endless ills, from her head.

She’s there, her absence, reminds me of future plights.

Where my anxieties for her well being, endure her fight.

She’s there, I need to visit her, all day, and every night.

Where the distance to reach her soul, is out of sight.

She’s there…

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