Today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in August 2025) is drawn from my upcoming book, Time Hears No Sound. It appears as the first poem in the Haiku section of Chapter 10, Time’s Short Poems: Haiku, Tanka, etc.
Beyond Sight (a Haiku)
Good morning sunrise
I soak in daylight’s caress
Until eyes hear sound
Ivor Steven © January 2026
“Smoke-tinted twilight, and a sun that watches like an omen.”
The Sun’s Crimson Eye
Where there’s smoke, there’s fire
Twilight’s smoky sky and the crimson sun
Convey an eerie reminder
That there’s more bushfires to come
The weather has been extremely hot
And the eucalypti ranges are tinder dry
The firefighters are tiring,
But they’re a hardy lot
And we hope Mother Nature
Will wash the crimson from the sky
Ivor Steven © January 2026
“Sunlight, patience, and a tomato named Theo — still finding his way upward.”
Theo and the Sunflowers (a Haiku)
Tall as Jack’s beanstalk
Proudly shading the flowers
Theo grows and grows
Ivor Steven © January 2026
Featured Image Above: wae created by Copilot and me.
At the edge of dusk, every path feels like a crossroad.”
The Elusive Crossroad
Beyond the evening’s projecting twilight zone,
I’m looking for this planet’s bright side of the moon.
I observe a strange stratosphere
That does not belong here, nor there.
Between now and the universe’s next episode,
I perceive a mirage of cosmic cathodes,
Faithlessly obscuring eternity’s elusive crossroad.
Ivor Steven © January 2026
Featured Image Above: wae created by Copilot and me.
Over at Sadje’s WDYS #325, I think my poem is appropriate for both of her prompt images. To visit her fabulous site please click >> Here.
This poem grew out of three short pieces I wrote in response to posts by fellow WordPress writers—Beth, Mark, and Dwight. Each anecdote carried its own spark, but together they formed a thread I couldn’t ignore. I’ve woven them here into one poem, a reflection on nature, emotion, and the creative fire that keeps us writing.
In stanza order, they are:
Beth – https://ididnthavemyglasseson.com/2026/01/24/the-magic
Mark – https://havocandconsequence.wordpress.com/2026/01/24/smashed-like-a-deity
Dwight – In Pursuit of Passion | Roth Poetry
.
The Pot’s Still Simmering
Once upon a time, while the moon was sweeping
Just after the ice age had ceased creeping
And when the world’s sky had finished wistfully weeping
Mother Nature always had time for her housekeeping
And would never leave “love” under the snow, sleeping
I’ve always found it difficult
to simply wash away the salty tears
The residual droplets seemed
to have crystallized upon my soul’s fears
While the pot
remains simmering
and the irons are still hot,
a passion for writing
is this poet’s lot
Ivor Steven © January 2026
Frankie is patiently waiting for his bacon pieces
My lunch/meal was a delicious Japanese, Okonomiyaki
Okonomiyaki: House-made Japanese cabbage & spring onion savoury pancake, topped with okonomiyaki sauce, kewpie mayo, BBQ pulled pork, fried egg, topped with bean shoot, coriander, pickled ginger, chilli, cucumber, edamame & snow pea shoot garnish, sesame seeds & fried shallots
Ivor Steven © January 2026
Featured Image Above: was created by Copilot and me.
Late afternoon light, a crescent moon rising, and one bold dragonfly with something to say…
The Crescent Moon and the Dragonfly (a Tanka)
“Hello, Mister Moon –
why are you so small today?”
“You should not throw stones
Pipsqueak. You’re just an insect.
I can’t even see your wings.”
A little music to settle beneath the crescent moon…
Ivor Steven © January 2026
Feature Image Above: was created by Copilot and me.
Over at Weekly Prompts, the Weekend Challenge is the word “Squish”
To visit their fabulous site, please click >>Here … and I think everything about censorship is awfully “Squishy.”
Nancy’s story on The Elephant’s Trunk [https://theelephantstrunk.org/2026/01/20/rdp-tuesday-disapprove/ ] stirred an old frustration in me — how easily free expression can be twisted, muted, or dismissed. I left a brief comment there, but the idea continued to nag at me throughout the afternoon. Sitting in a quiet corner of the café, I found myself shaping those few lines into something fuller, a small protest poem about the weight of censorship and the stubborn resilience of words. This is where that moment led.
When Words Wear Chains
Words wearing chains,
Pages awash in teary rain;
Quills feel the pain,
Like wisdom without veins
Inside lifeless brains.
How to explain
The inhumane
Of censorship’s careering train,
While the reigning regimes
Sip on foreign champagne.
Ivor Steven © January 2026
Inspired by one of Derrick Knight’s quietly atmospheric New Forest photos — which he kindly allows me to use on my poetry site >>https://derrickjknight.com/2026/01/19/decidedly-damp-2/ — this piece reflects the stillness and subtle depth held in a simple pond.
Discreetly Reflective
Discreetly, here I casually lie,
My opalescent veneer
Facing the weathered sky –
Reflective is my exterior.
Underneath, at the bottom of the weir,
A shallow coldness protects my fear
Of overexposure
To the New Forest’s frontier.
But being a reflective mirror
Is my theatrical nature
Music:“Elegy” by Lisa Gerrard & Patrick Cassidy — a quiet echo of the pond’s stillness.
Ivor Steven © January 2026
Again, it’ll be 40 °C here today, and hopefully, the likelihood of more bushfires will be minimal.
Different Skies (a Haiku)
Storm clouds that don’t cry
Then we wonder why there is
Smoke clouds in the sky
Ivor Steven © January 2026
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 