Category: Life/lifestyle

“Man Overboard!”

Daylight Saving steals an hour, but where does it go? This poem wonders aloud, with a wink and a sigh, as time slips overboard. Paired with Tame Impala’s hypnotic rhythm, it’s a meditation on the absurdity of lost time.




“Man Overboard!”


Time vanished overboard,
and was last seen going forward.

Who will rescue the lost hour?
Who has the righteous power,
inside the clock’s stoic tower?

Somehow it doesn’t matter
that no one heard the clatter.

Time has no protective hands.
Time is not a rubber band,
nor a loose grain of sand.

I do not understand
how time’s forgotten hour was banned
and stored away in never-never-land.




Ivor Steven ©  October 2025

Gina’s Mexican Cafe, Namaimo

Before going over to Gabriola Island, we (me, Penny & Dave) had lunch with Dave’s sister, Sandra, and husband Jordon, at the charming Gina’s Mexican Cafe in Nanaimo


The inviting Gina’s Mexican Cafe



My scrumptious lunch


Left to Right, me, Jordon, Sandra (Dave’s sister), Dave, and Penny. Then Sandra and Dave

And a great time was had by all.
Ivor, Sandra, Jordon, Penny, and Dave






Ivor Steven (c) September 2025

The Tourist Has a Rest Day

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Lady O and the O’men

Sunday we drove up the coast, not too far away, for lunch and live music at the Osborne Bay Pub. And I meet a group of Penny and Dave’s friends, Nancy & Joe, Joy, Jane & David, Pauline & Patrick, and Hermann. (Yep, they all received one of Ivor’s poetry cards)

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The Tourist Has a Rest Day

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Where else would I want to be?
On a rainy Sunday afternoon
But at the rustic Osborne Bay Pub
Overlooking the opal blue bay
For my Canadian tour’s rest day

There, listening to live jazz music
From the talented, Lady O and the O’men
Enjoying the Irish Guinness beer on tap
Then sipping on a Cabernet Sauvignon
From Smoky Bay, South Eastern Australia

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Ivor Steven (c) September 2025

Throwback Friday, Quietly I Exist

Today’s Throwback Friday Poem appears in my revised edition of “Tullawalla”, July 2022, and was originally written as a travel log piece about my overseas journey to, America, Philadelphia, in May 2019.

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Quietly I Exist

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I’m writing words from the edge of time

And pondering my life’s lack of rhyme

Thinking every moment is an ironic crime

And quietly, I exist only in mime

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Life is a mountain of ups and downs

Sharp thorns and slippery crowns

For me, every moment is a good day

Behind me, I leave yesterday

And today I’ll by-pass midday

On my way to bathing in tomorrow’s sun-rays

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We are not here to control nature

But we are responsible for her future

I don’t think humans are meant to be

Poisoning the sea with plastic and mercury

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I cannot be the king of this stagnant world

But I am free as my wings unfurled

My eyes have been opened again

To reveal the sky, sunshine and rain

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Now I see beyond every yellow door

There was once an original world

So, I’ll turn the latch to discover more

And give realities of life a whirl

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Ivor Steven (c) Sept 2025

Wainwright, Alberta Prairie, without Frankie

Featured image Above: Frankie, looking happy and relaxed back at my brother’s house in Ballarat. Victoria. Australia,

Cousin Maureen and Ivor

The sun sets over Wainwright and Maureen’s doggies. Co-co and Z-z

The Wainwright township

Wainwright

The town clock tower and my sleeping quarters at Maureen’s

Walking the doggies at sunset

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Ivor Steven (c) Sept 2025

Dusty Passport

download-copy-1

Today’s Throwback Friday poem is from February 2019, when I was preparing myself for a trip to America/New York/Philadelphia, to visit my Philadelphia “cousins”, and today, here I am on Vancouver Island visiting my Canadian “cousins”.


Dusty Passport

Here I was resting, home again from the hospital
After a second stroke had laid me up
I was rekindling thoughts of travelling to America
An adventure I’d always promised myself
Night is not always dark, you know
Firstly, I had to find my passport
Yes, I’d hidden it somewhere safe
After turning the bedroom inside out
Then, throwing the lounge room upside down
The lost document was on a garage shelf
Looking dusty, but still only five years old
Jumping for joy, you’d think I’d found gold
Hardly ever been stamped, a Chinese one, that’s all
Many years have passed since my last call
I clasped that passport firmly in my hand
And I said, “It’s time”, before my clock runs out of sand






Ivor Steven (c) August 2025

“Who’s the Pilot”, is in this week’s Coffee House Writers Magazine edition.


Hello, dear readers and followers. I write for Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) fortnightly, and my poem “Who’s the Pilot” is in this week’s edition.
To read the poem, please click the link below to visit my Coffee House Writers Magazine article.
>> https://coffeehousewriters.com/whos-the-pilot/






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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


Ivor Steven © August 2025