Ivor.Plumber/Poet

Throwback Friday, It Was Time To Leave

Cousin Lynn and Robin with Mungo and Kelly

Cousin Maureen and doggies Z-Z and Co-Co

Cousin Penny, and then Dave, Penny, and Ivor

Here I am on a Jet Plane, somewhere over the Pacific Ocean. Therefore today’s Throwback Friday poem is a very appropriate finale piece, to coincide with my amazing adventures in Canada over the past 21 days.

It Was Time To Leave (Revised)

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 Canadian 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 berries 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 magical Astrodome

Ivor Steven (c) September 2025

Zadar Sunsets (a Tanka)

This Tanka began with a small moment of irony. While sheltering from the cold and waiting for the weather to clear, I spotted a piece of street art near the café — the words “Sunsets in Zadar” painted across a brick wall. I noticed straight away that it carried a perfect five‑syllable rhythm, an ideal opening line for a Haiku or Tanka. From that simple spark, the poem grew into a quiet reflection spoken from the sun itself, reaching across horizons with its global glow.

Zadar Sunsets (a Tanka)

Sunsets in Zadar
I’m nowhere near Croatia
But here within view
Above your hill’s horizon
My global glow finds your land

A final touch of light to end the moment — a sunset song to accompany the sun’s own words, drifting across horizons just as the poem does.

Ivor Steven © August 2026

Distant Stars — A Poem for Gina

Last evening’s twilight brought two distant birds gliding across the sky — a quiet moment I thought little of at the time. But this morning, Gina’s birthday bundle arrived from Kuala Lumpur, carrying its own warmth across the miles. Suddenly those birds felt like a gentle reflection of our long friendship: separated by distance, yet always moving within the same sky. From that pairing of twilight wings and Gina’s thoughtful bundle, this three‑couplet poem emerged — three small waves of acknowledgement, connection, and renewal.

Gina’s response: “This is a very special poem — yes, please post it; too beautiful to be kept hidden. Love the second stanza about the stars.” — Gina

Distant Stars — A Poem for Gina

Long grey clouds may separate our friendship,
but distance is not part of the script.

We endearingly continue to wave from afar,
like a constellation’s pair of outlying stars.

Luminously looking forward to our next meeting,
and tenderly renewing our curriculum vitae greetings

A fitting accompaniment — Angus & Julia Stone’s “Celestial Bodies,” a live performance with the same quiet, sky‑bound warmth that inspired this poem.

Ivor Steven © August 2026

Into the Blue

In this solitary silhouette, I felt the sky fold back into its deeper self — a quiet reminder that infinity is not a distant realm but a shift in perception. Darkness becomes brightness when seen in reverse, and even the faintest glow can reveal the universe’s hidden architecture. These three captures from my afternoon walk opened that doorway, and as I sat with them at the café, the poem below arrived in a small explosion of insight — a moment where inverted light found its voice.

Into the Blue

I’m unravelling my way
From out of the grey
And back into the blue
For an unobstructed view
Of the unfettered universe
Where I can observe light in reverse

I perceive the panorama of infinity’s darkness
To be a cosmic aurora of brightness —
Not a mere perception of blackness
But a transparent glow of hopefulness

Two visions of blue — one rising from the depths, one bursting into joy — each reflecting a different facet of the journey from grey to light. Together they complete the sky the poem began.

“And so the sky sings twice.”

Ivor Steven © August 2026

Beyond Reach (a Haiku)

The morning sky felt like an open canvas, and the birds rose into it as if painted there — framed by light, archived in motion, and forever just beyond our human reach.

Beyond Reach (a Haiku)

Shadows on the sky
Bird silhouettes hover high
Beyond human reach

A quiet echo of the sky’s fragile beauty

Ivor Steven © August 2026

This Morning, or This Anxious Man

This poem grew from two separate comments I left on Nancy’s site, written almost four weeks apart. Different days, different moods — yet when I revisited them, they seemed to lean toward one another and form a cohesive whole.
Stanzas 1 and 2 came from La Casa Azzurra – The Elephant’s Trunk
and stanzas 3, 4, and 5 from What’s Left Behind – The Elephant’s Trunk

Fresh shoes for familiar paths — proof enough that this man plans on walking a little further yet.

Over at Weekly Prompts, the weekend challenge is the word “Anxiety”. To visit their fabulous site, please click on >> Here

This Morning, or This Anxious Man

I woke up this morning,
which is always a good thing —
with blue surrounding my head,
quietly filtering through the blinds
from dawn’s levitating, bright blue sky.

I do not need to ask why
the tranquil colour blue
serendipitously keeps me flying high.

I am who I am.
I’m an old man,
and I do the best I can.

My dreamworld plan
is out of my hands.

I remember how it all began,
and here I am —
between Cannes and scans,
still walking this land.

For the fragments that find each other, the blue mornings, the old roads, and the man who keeps trusting the day ahead.

Ivor Steven © August 2026

Eye to Eye, or I to I

Down a quiet back lane near the café, this striking street art stopped me in my tracks — it felt like a quiet conversation waiting to happen, eye to eye with the unexpected.

Eye to Eye, or I to I

With one eye querying mankind
and the other eye wondering
about my state of mind —
bewildered and always pondering
what’s real beyond my Venetian blinds.

I am neither refined nor confined,
and I have escaped being quarantined.

I question myself.
Are my eyes behind the times,
or have I misread my bookshelf’s
poetry finds and the fairytale rhymes?

A final glance, and the moment drifted on — leaving its quiet echo behind, carried forward now in the music’s slow drift

Ivor Steven © August 2026

Throwback Friday, Long, Long Way (Revised)

Today’s Throwback goes back to August 2019, just months after my second and third strokes — a time when the days were dim, and every movement felt uncertain.
Finding this poem again reminded me how far that long road has stretched. The wattlebirds I photographed today — wings lifted, rising into open sky — feel like symbols of that slow, determined recovery.
This revised piece holds both the struggle and the light that followed.

Long, Long Way (Revised)

I’ve come a long, long way
I remember the bad, bad days
When yesterday’s were dark and grey
On level seven, under heaven’s archway

Lying there immobile and prone
Waiting for the etching of my gravestone
Unable to hear my silent headphones
Unknowingly, spinning inside a black cyclone

I awoke somewhere outside my world’s twilight zone
Slowly realising I’d been saved, and finality was postponed

The soundtrack to those long, long days — and the light that followed.

Until Eyes Hear Sound

Amazon >> Amazon.com : Until Eyes Hear Sound

Lulu Books >> Until Eyes Hear Sound (lulu.com)

Perceptions:

Amazon >> Perceptions : Steven, Ivor, Knight, Derrick: Amazon.com.au: Books
Lulu Books >> Perceptions (lulu.com)

Tullawalla:

Amazon >> Tullawalla A Meeting Place Where My Empty Hands are Full of Memories and Rhymes : Steven, Ivor: Amazon.com.au: Books

OR: >> You may email me directly for a signed copy at
ivorrs20@gmail.com … and I can send you a PayPal account,
for the Book, plus Postage.

Pigeons of the World (a Tanka)

This afternoon’s sky gifted me a flock of silhouettes — pigeons rising and circling through the light as if carrying the world’s weight on their wings. Their quiet resilience inspired the Tanka below, a small reflection on the lives caught beneath the shadows of conflict.

Pigeons of the World (a Tanka)

Here under the sun
I am not the only one
Being overrun
By the world’s greedy hired guns
Who’s minding our war torn sons?

And still the sky remembers what we forget — even the pigeons know the rise and fall of empires.

Coffee House Writers Magazine features my new poem, “A Global Suntan”

Hello, dear readers and followers. I contribute to Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) every second week, and I’m delighted to share that my latest poem, “A Global Suntan,” appears in the new issue. You can read it by following the link below.
>> A Global Suntan – Coffee House Writers

Until Eyes Hear Sound

Amazon >> Amazon.com : Until Eyes Hear Sound

Lulu Books >> Until Eyes Hear Sound (lulu.com)

Perceptions:

Amazon >> Perceptions : Steven, Ivor, Knight, Derrick: Amazon.com.au: Books
Lulu Books >> Perceptions (lulu.com)

Tullawalla:

Amazon >> Tullawalla A Meeting Place Where My Empty Hands are Full of Memories and Rhymes : Steven, Ivor: Amazon.com.au: Books

OR: >> You may email me directly for a signed copy at
ivorrs20@gmail.com … and I can send you a PayPal account,
for the Book, plus Postage.

Winter Sunshine

This afternoon I found myself at the calm centre of things — winter draped itself lightly over the café, letting the sunshine linger just long enough for a quiet moment to unfold.

Winter Sunshine

I’m on the axis of my universe,
here in the middle of our cafe,
at the centre of this old town —
it’s our time to relax and calm down.

We’re midway beneath winter’s hemline;
the wind is cold, but the day is fine.
The larks are enjoying the sunshine,
and I’m sipping a glass of red wine.

As the winter light faded and the sunshine slipped away, the music left its own warm shadow behind.