A Throwback Friday Poem – Ivor.Plumber/Poet

Throwback Friday, Eating Chocolates and Watching Wars

Chocolates are delightfully delicious … wars are deadly and destructive …
Above the valley, a white-feathered messenger rises — reminding us how fragile peace can be

Yesterday we visited the Moorabool Valley Chocolate Café for coffee and cake, and the moment brought this poem back to me — a piece I wrote in August 2018, when a simple liquor chocolate stirred memories, questions, and the ache of a world still at war.

Eating Chocolates And Watching Wars (Revised)

Hungrily, I’m eating a liquor chocolate —
a selfish heavenly delight,
arousing my old mind’s senses.

I wonder
what she would be thinking,
looking down from the stars
through her sensitive olive eyes —
her everlasting smile,
her gracious courage,
her generous heart,
her forgiving soul,
her love for me and you.

I wonder
what she would be thinking,
seeing these futile, bloody wars
through her compassionate olive eyes —
the dead and maimed,
the millions of shuffling homeless,
the distraught, broken families,
the crying children locked in sheds,
the desperate refugees with no beds.

I wonder
what she would be thinking
while she preciously
holds the last white dove,
observing these senseless wars
that never ever ends.

And for the song that holds the cracks and the light, here is Leonard Cohen’s Anthem — offered to a world where the last white dove may never fly free again.

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 © June 2026

Throwback Friday, Full Moon Rising

In keeping with this week’s moon theme, today’s Throwback Friday poem drifts back to November 2024, when the moon seemed to whisper of endurance and flight. Drawn from Chapter 6 of Time Hears No Sound, Travel and Life: Time Flies — it traces the solitary courage of a seagull chasing horizons.

Under the full moon’s watch, the journey continues — across water, memory, and time.

Full Moon Rising

I am an aging seagull
And I must be out of my skull

Thinking that I’m fit enough
To fly further than the bluff

No matter, there is a full moon
To guide me across this barren dune

My journey is a lonely one
But I’m not to be outdone

I know there is another blue ocean
Beyond this World’s wavering horizon

And under this quiet moon, the journey keeps unfolding — one small, steady heartbeat at a time.

Ivor Steven © June 2026

Throwback Friday, The Universe Beyond My Wardrobe’s Doors

This poem was penned in May 2024 and quietly tucked away. Rediscovering it today felt like stepping back into the room where it began, so I’ve gently revised it for my Throwback Friday reflection.

The Universe Beyond My Wardrobe’s Doors (Revised)

I live in a small, compact villa.
My abode is comfortable and cozy.
The bedroom doubles up
as my writer’s studio and library.

The wardrobe’s doors are near the end of my bed.
On the doors, I hang a calendar
and a special photo of me and Carole
taken for our 25th anniversary

I gaze at the calendar and ponder.
The appointments are in black,
important dates are marked in red,
and my poetry events are scribbled in blue.

The calendar has many blank squares —
the days I spend writing.
I write to her about love and coping.
I write for myself, about life and nature.

I write for everyone who reads my poems.
I write my thoughts about humanity’s existence
within the universe and the great beyond.
I write words, “Until Eyes Hear Sound.”

As the room opens into the universe once more, here’s a song to travel with — much like Melanie’s lovely old “Look What They’ve Done to My Song, Ma,” carrying my memories back into the light.

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 © June 2026

Throwback Friday, Bird on a Ladder

In keeping with this week’s ‘Bird’ theme, today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in May 2023) is drawn from my third book, Until Eyes Hear Sound. It appears as a poem in Chapter 1: Little Creatures and the Birds

Bird on a Ladder

I am a blackbird on a circus ladder
Singing about how the world is feeling sadder
Or should I sing, “becoming madder”

Here on the last rung, I stand
Below, I see a treeless land
Above, I hear a breathless sky
After the show, I untangle my necktie
And I ask you why
“Does it matter, when I leap, what route do I fly?”

“Let the music spin the world’s madness into something we can still sing about

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 © May 2026

Throwback Friday, Polar Bears and Cold Sheep

In keeping with this week’s ‘Environment’ theme, today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in July 2020) is drawn from my upcoming book, Time Hears No Sound. It appears as a poem in Chapter 2, Nature: An Unbiased Timekeeper

Polar Bears and Cold Sheep

hello world, do you see my frown?
will the blizzards ever calm down?
will the rains forever fall on broken ground?
will our tears of silence be the only sound?

the frozen wounds are deep
the mountains of snow are steep
humans need to stop being cold sheep
and begin taking their own individual leaps

the rewards of being caring and kind
far outweigh the coldness of being left behind

For the wounds we’ve carved into the earth, may this music echo the quiet truth our planet keeps trying to tell us.

Ivor Steven © May 2026

Throwback Friday, Cold Feet

Today’s Throwback poem was written in May 2024. For reasons I can’t quite explain, this reflective piece never found its way into my new book Time Hears No Sound. Maybe this insightful poem will nudge me toward beginning a new manuscript for my fifth book.

Cold Feet

I wandered outside;
the evening air
was damp and cold,
and the moon was sharing
the dappled midnight sky
with dark, satiny clouds.

Forlornly, I looked up
and quizzically asked the moon,
“I have failed.
My words were drowned in the hail.
I’m poor and unbound;
all I have is muddy ground.
Who listens, anyhow?
Where do I go now?”

“Do not fret, my friend
As Confucius said,
It does not matter how slowly you go
as long as you do not stop.
And that old Japanese Proverb:
Fall down seven times, stand up eight. “

I wandered back inside.
The desk lantern was still burning.
I reopened my torn notebook
and began writing again.

For the nights when the cold settles in, but the words still find their way.

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 © May 2026

Throwback Friday, The Woman In Me

G’day readers. As this tender weekend approaches — my mother’s birthday tomorrow, my wife’s funeral day, and Mother’s Day on Sunday here in Australia — I’m returning to a poem from September 2019 for today’s Throwback Friday. It feels like the right one to hold all of that.

Me, sitting on Mum’s knee. … L to R, Carole, Aunties Elizabeth & Pearl, & Grandma

Grandma and her 3 daughters. … My mum (left) and her lady relatives

The Woman In Me

Inside every man
There is a woman

The mother of his soul
The lady of his heart
The kindness in his touch
The passion in his blood

The woman who fostered
The way he shows love

For all the women who shaped our hearts, let this melody bloom again.

Ivor Steven © May 2026

Throwback Friday, Where’s That Dream (a Redux from last year)

Today’s Throwback poem was written before I started my website and is from June 2012, not long after Carole passed away (14 years ago, May 3rd). For reasons I can’t quite explain, this nostalgic piece never found its way into any of my three books. Maybe this unheralded poem will finally nudge me toward completing my fourth.

Where’s That Dream

I have seen the universe through to the stars beyond
There is a deep darkness; she is gone. She is gone
I saw her smile crack from the pain
There was a sorrow, she caught it tomorrow

I have seen the moon through the burning sun
Where is that planet she is walking on?
I saw her eyes crying tears of sand
Where is that beach she is lying on?

I have seen the ocean through the broken coral
Where is that ship she is sailing on?
I saw her body serene and frail
Where are the ashes she is covered in?

I have seen the earth open, swallowing the multitude whole
Where is that chasm she is falling through?
I saw her gentle soul disappear out of sight
Where is that secret haven she is flying to?

I have seen the land go through violent storms
Where are the winds of time she is spread upon?
I saw her heart, her love, for all of you and me
Where is that dream she has left us to find?

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.

Throwback Friday, A Torn Thesaurus

Today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in July 2022) is drawn from my third book, Until Eyes Hear Sound. It appears in Chapter 5: Observation, Until Eyes Hear Sound.

A Torn Thesaurus

With my fiddle and riddles
Here in the middle
Of this unopened universe
Time spirals in reverse

Quills fly in from cyberspace
As alien words unravel and interlace
A torn thesaurus is my database
I wonder
Have I landed in the right place?

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.

Throwback Friday, Under the Snow (a Revisit)

A special poem I wrote, after I’d taken my Lady to the hospital for the last time, on the day of her 65th birthday, fourteen years ago.

Hello Carole, time goes by, and my heart has not moved …

Under The Snow

We emanate to a birthday.
We deflate to a final day.
Birthdays, they all come, they all go.
Birthdays, in the sunshine, under the snow.
Birthdays, slow to mature, quickly an eon.
Birthdays, before we are born, after we are gone.
Birthdays, hanging on by a breath.
Birthdays, nailed to a cross ’til death.
What does it all mean to be alive and cry?
What does it all mean to live and to die?