Category: A Combined Poem

Feature Image Above: Frankie and I, mid-poem at our local café—where thoughts drift between nothing and something, and companionship keeps everything afloat.

Attached Images: Three of my bird photos from today: Wattlebird, Magpie, and Mudlark.

This poem grew from three spontaneous reflections I left on fellow bloggers’ posts—each a response to a moment that stirred something in me. Though written separately, the stanzas now speak to one another, forming a quiet meditation on uncertainty, resilience, and the weight of responsibility. Sometimes, everything lives in the spaces between.
The three bloggers in stanza order.
1st Stanza >> Okay, Socrates | Rethinking Life
2nd Stanza >> Tempted By A Demon – I Write Her
3rd Stanza >> Four in a row – Keep it alive

Thinking About Everything


In between nothing,
and something —
where is everything?

Hold onto a limb,
when the body forgets how to swim,
and the mind’s in a spin.

Holding onto self-discipline
can be hard to maintain —
especially for politicians,
who hold all the reins
in the hard rain.

This live rendition carries a breath of vulnerability and grace—perfect for reflecting on the spaces between nothing, something, and everything. It’s the kind of song that lingers, like a paw resting gently on your arm.



Ivor Steven (c) October 2025

Today’s poem is one of my verses, composed of comments/anecdotes I posted on some of my fellow WordPress writers’ articles during the month. In stanza order, they are.

1 – Nancy, Order Of The Snake – The Elephant’s Trunk
2 – Beth, expression. | I didn’t have my glasses on….
3 – Bart, Monday Poetry Prompt: Under the Cushions | Living Poetry
4 – Violet, Untouched by Regret | Thru Violet’s Lentz
5 – Ivor, A response to Nancy’s comment, https://ivorplumberpoet.press/2025/08/14/surprise-surprise-a-tanka/
6 – David, Breaking hours, or: Yet it flows – The Skeptic’s Kaddish 🇮🇱

A Malay Kris and a Cracked Brick Wall


I’ll twist and dismiss
your kiss and hiss.
Then, with my Malay kris,
I’ll swish you up like this.

Little cracks
and threads of black
are nature’s imperfections-
waiting for filaments of imagination.

Under my luxurious woollen cushion
lies an old copy of The Australian Bulletin.
Also, from Great-grand-dad’s mystical Galleon,
there’s a hand-woven chiffon for his Spanish woman. 

Regrets are like silhouettes-
they linger above your shoulders
like worn-out epaulettes
and burnt-out candle holders,
as shadowy images after sunset.

Line after line,
Time clutters my mind.
Will I be fine in time?

The sands of time
will forever fall through the hourglass,
and the shadows of time
always moves across the sundial.
Gravity continues to wear us down
and sunlight will always crack our mounds.

Ivor Steven (c) August 2025

Today’s poem is one of my verses made up of comments I posted on some of my fellow WordPress writers’ articles during the month … In stanza order, they are:
* Paul, The Moment – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon | parallax 
* Carol, Some people say I’m off my trolley – Therapy Bits
* David, The shape, or: Letting go – The Skeptic’s Kaddish 🇮🇱 
* David, https://skepticskaddish.com/2025/06/27/mouthfuls-of-silence-or-sign-language/






Let the Rivers Flow (a Combined Poem)


The tides of time are forever changing 
Going beyond our depth can be frightening 
But testing the unknown waters can be rewarding

We are all off our trolley
We all like our Lollies
We all forget the brolly
Life is a hectic folly
So, best we stay jolly
And always chat to Polly

If things don’t change
Things will remain the same
Let the cascades fall
May the rivers always flow
Forever changing our lives
With the current’s undertow  

Sometimes I wonder
If I am drowning in the sound
Of words that are on the tip of my tongue
And their lifeline has melted
Into the silent recesses of my mind 

Ivor Steven (c) June 2025