Author: ivor20

G'day, and welcome to my blog site. My name is Ivor Steven, I live in Geelong, Australia. I'm an ex-industrial chemist, and a retired plumber, and a former Carer of my wife(Carole), for 30 years, who suffered from severe MS. I Write poetry about those personal thoughts, throughout and beyond my life as a Carer. I've been blogging for over 2 years, and writing poems for 19 years. Of course a lot of my poems are about my favourite subject Carole, but since I've been blogging my writings have become quite varied, humourous, mystical, observational, and even a few monster/horror poems.

Beyond the Golden Eye

Featured Image Above: Created by Copilot and me.
“A circling flock of Corellas rises beyond the golden eye — twilight’s quiet lantern.”

Over at Weekly Prompts, it’s time for the One Day Prompt. To visit their fabulous site, please click >> Here
I’ve used a bit of ‘poetic license,’ and only got as far as “One” without the “Day.”




Beyond the Golden Eye

Tonight’s fluorescent twilight sky
is strikingly dominated by
one enchanting golden eye.

The illustrious iris silhouettes
The horizon’s sleepy statuettes,

and a circling flock of Corellas
looks like an inverted umbrella,
full of luminous candelas.









Ivor Steven ©  March 2026

The Desert’s Killing Fields (a Tanka)

The pigeon’s sudden lift feels like a warning — a fragile life rising above a landscape shaped by pipes, oil, and the killing fields we still feed.


The Desert’s Killing Fields (a Tanka)

The old pigeon flees
From what we cannot perceive
Beneath the earth’s trees
Miles of pipes, full of black gold
The killing fields we still feed






Ivor Steven ©  March 2026

Throwback Friday, Between Lines, Who Holds the Power

Today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in May 2023) is drawn from my upcoming book, Time Hears No Sound. It appears as the opening poem in Chapter 8, War: A Waste of Time


“And I have carried on this war. Though no one wins an endless fight. I have claimed that God has guided me. And killed to prove I’m right.” Lyrics from Damien Rice’s song, “What if I’m wrong.”




Between Lines, Who Holds the Power

Do you see – a man walking on water?
Did you see – his feet were bleeding?
Do you read – the missing scriptures?
Did you read – your own family tree?
Do you hear, speechless angels, singing?
Did you hear – the songbirds crying?

Do you feel – the erased wars calling?
Did you feel – the hard rains falling?
Do you know – the ones who are lying?
Did you know, the refugees are dying?





“What If I’m Wrong”, Lyrics, by Damien Rice

I could wrestle with tomorrow
Until tomorrow’s in the past
Because I have torn apart what’s beautiful
To prove that nothing lasts I have stayed locked behind these doors
To show there’s no way out
I got lost within the space between
The question and the doubt
I have built a wall between

What I believed and what is true
I have sacrificed the love I had
For power over you

I have convicted those who disagree
And walked over the weak
I have placed a gun within the mouth
Of those who dared to speak

And on an ordinary day
In an ordinary way
I have crushed the minds of children
With extraordinary shame

And I have carried on this war
Though no one wins an endless fight
I have claimed that God has guided me
And killed to prove I’m right

What if I’m wrong
What if I’m wrong
What if I’m wrong
What if I’m wrong

Is this soul worth saving at all?
Cause if I lose my wings then surely I must fall
And the gods prayed to the gods they made

We could wrestle with tomorrow
until tomorrow’s in the past
We could tear apart what’s beautiful
To prove that nothing lasts

We could stay locked behind the doors
To show there’s no way out
We could get lost within the space between
The question and the doubt

But what if we’re wrong?




.


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.


Ivor Steven ©  March 2026



Peripheral Blindness

A moment in the fading light, where shadows reveal more than they hide.





Peripheral Blindness


The Twilight Zone cracks
are opening wider —
the dullness is growing darker.

Our blindness shadows
fall sharper,
and we are quickly losing sight
of what once made us smarter.








Ivor Steven ©  March 2026

The World’s Spiritual Watchtower





The World’s Spiritual Watchtower


I’m fused to this planet,
and my synthetic walking shoes
are wearing thin on the granite.

I’m confused and sadly bemused
by humanity’s wayward news.

I gaze up at our radiant sun
and wonder about the solar power
that goes unused by the tonne.

I see birds cruising on the wind
angling their wings
toward the sun’s golden rind,
as if spellbound
by the mystical rising.

A glowing, cosmic sunflower
quietly expanding outwards
and shining upwards
to become the world’s
spiritual watchtower





A watchtower of sound to meet the poem’s rising light





Ivor Steven ©  March 2026

Photos From Our Time in Booktown.

Photos From Our Time in Booktown.

Friday afternoon
Was set‑up time for both the Bookstall Vendors and the Food Vendors — a quiet buzz of preparation before the weekend unfolded.


Saturday:
Was all about settling in and getting to know our fellow book vendors in Marquee T — Robert, Janette, Suzanne & Karen, Collin, and Lynette.

Although officially “T”, we were affectionately nicknamed the Zombie Marquee, thanks to Robert’s eye‑catching banner at the entrance.


Of course, my assistant salesman was the true star attraction of my bookstall.

Down at ground level, under the tables, Frankie and the little girl next door — tucked beneath her dad’s table of books — became fast friends.

Every now and then, we wandered through the festival to soak up the wonderful carnival atmosphere.


There was dancing in the streets, violin music drifting from a balcony, giant book readers roaming about, and even Larry the Lizard slithered into our tent to say hello.


Sunday brought another magical day of sunshine, stories, and festival energy.
If you have Facebook, hopefully the link below will open for you:
>> https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Ffb.watch%2FF-r0NXVzFK%2F%3Ffs%3De%26fbclid%3DIwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTAAYnJpZBExam42MWJ1a0lvdmZHajNkSHNydGMGYXBwX2lkEDIyMjAzOTE3ODgyMDA4OTIAAR6zEi-V3RRYcEtu31mWJm9y9GYGr7MJi0z2aH6k___S3IhogIluLB69kOw15A_aem_EbG9tWQj2hbxUzTPQdLTIQ&h=AT6GGOr3lyKaFT5AxusRGenQaPeF_uot1i_Kf4PGHX5pxXJ7M-5nUBolH71yQCOvD6KfzPCEEXsB_aU7b03SJKwu2kSqsNDQ_oZp0bYIeQvge89RYUfgAw_PfdlA-Ii9_NTMKg

After a magical weekend in Booktown, the wagon rolls home with tired feet and happy hearts.


And as the last notes fade, we carry Booktown home with us — tired feet, full hearts, and memories that will linger long after the carnival is over.










Ivor Steven ©  March 2026

The Sky’s Pearls

A lone bird soars above the morning mist — echoing the clarity of my hilltop poem and the emotional lift of “Letters From The Sky.


Pearls from the sky, my courtyard flowers …

A sky scattered with quiet treasures, waiting for the morning to find them




The Sky’s Pearls



Life is uncomplicated
On my elevated hilltop;
Here, the air I breathe is untainted.

My courtyard’s world
Grows high above the town,
Yet I never look down
Nor frown on the town’s ground.

Instead, I gaze up at the sky’s pearls,
Where starry swirls and twirls,
Majestically unfurl.








Ivor Steven ©  March 2026

From Beyond Nowhere

A lucky snapshot: a bird crossing an invisible line between sun and sky, caught in the quiet shimmer of possibility.


From Beyond Nowhere


Below the invisible line,
Between the sun and time,
It is impossible to know
That what we perceive
Are the stars’ definitive stare,
Or, whether the outer glow
Is the universe’s cosmic snow
From beyond nowhere.







Ivor Steven ©  March 2026


Freedom Without Gasoline

Featured Image Above: Where the sky opens, freedom rises first





Freedom Without Gasoline

Yes, I must go
Beyond the world’s mist and snow

Flying above the trees
Is nature’s gift to me

Removed from the maddening crowd
Here, freedom is proud, unbowed

And the air is almost clean
Except for the smell of gasoline




A song for the quiet courage of taking flight





Ivor Steven ©  March 2026