Philosophical – Page 3 – Ivor.Plumber/Poet

Today, Twenty-Five Years Ago (a Tanka)

Today, Twenty-Five Years Ago (a Tanka)

Once upon a time
In a land of ice and rhyme
Darkness was my crime
When a rift of hollow mime
Ravaged my body and mind

“The Throwback poem that began the great Rowback”

Who’s Left to Row the Boat

The storms are too many to count
Emotional lows had weathered me out
Her journey with MS was a struggle
How much lower could our lives sink

After fourteen years of our battles, I suffered a Stroke
An ambulance came, my brain was in a boat
Floating out to sea, overboard and panic-stricken
I wasn’t swimming, barely awake, and drifting
I had fallen, nothing was working, and not talking
She’s crying, I’m sobbing, my heart is dying
And who’s left to row the boat, I’m thinking
I was jabbed with a needle and silently sleeping

I awoke a day later, in hospital, feeling wasted
My face was limp, mouth parched, was that death I tasted
My mind was active, I thought, where is she
I knew I was bad; the room was all blurry to me
Strong anxieties had set in, I needed to know
Nurses came to me, I pleaded, I wanted to go
“Help me to see her, just give my bed a tow
Please let me go, before I’m covered in snow”

Ivor Steven (c) September 20th, 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.

Quietly I Exist

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

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

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

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

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

Ivor Steven (c) Sept 2025

Fallen Ancestors

Fallen Ancestors

Above
I saw time drift across the sky
Below
I heard a grey waterlogged tree cry
“Is this the graveyard where my
fallen ancestors have been left to die”

There
“Against the sea wall’s merciless granite crown
surrounded by cold water crashing around
Please
“Take my hand, guide me down
so I can cover them with my green nightgown

Ivor Steven (c) Sept 2025

After the Fall

After the Fall

After falling through the fragmented cloud,
the rusty and weary traveller
appeared to be disoriented,
without his familiar protective shroud.
Escaping his country has been hazardous,
and he longs for a restful shelter.

However, until the stampede’s contaminated dust
is devoured by its own mistrust-

then, and only then,
will the Almighty Sun
incinerate the lingering clouds
and allow the world’s war-torn sky
to redeem his sacred ground.

A Malay Kris and a Cracked Brick Wall

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

Throwback Friday, In the Full Moon’s Afterglow

It’ll be a full moon tomorrow, and appropriately, my Throwback Friday is a full moon poem, which I wrote in May 2024.
Please note that all attached images were taken by me late this afternoon (Thursday).

In the Full Moon’s Afterglow

My world’s worn-out words flow
From the torn sunflower meadows
To the silent streets of Moscow
Written on the hills of Dnipro in blue-line lingo
Beyond the reach of the full moon’s afterglow
And painted in lyrical tempo with hypnotic gusto

Am I to be another muted scarecrow
Mutilated by the warlords’ errant crossbows

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 © May 2025

Moon Crossing (a Tanka)

Moon Crossing (a Tanka)

I see the white moon
Crossing the afternoon sky
I hear the moon sigh
“Why do I shine so brightly?
When my light falls on dark eyes”

Ivor Steven (c) August 2025

My Sky’s Icons (a Tanka)

Hello dear readers and followers, unfortunately, I have to report that my dreaded “BLUE SCREEN CURSE” has returned, and with frustrating difficulty, I have been able to post this article tonight; however, as for my website blogging activities, I am very much restricted by the amount of available time I have left in between my numerous ‘Mirco Soft Shut Downs’ … Hence, the Beluga Lagoon music/video, “Blue” is my appropriate music choice tonight …

My Sky’s Icons (a Tanka)

The moon and the sun
My heavenly universe
For now, beyond reach
“Patience, my son, worry not
One day soon, your time will come.”

Ivor Steven (c) August 2025

A Fire That Burns in the Cold

A Fire That Burns in the Cold

From behind the trees,
And out of the grasses,
We cannot stop the fire
-That burning desire-
From soaring higher,
Higher than the entire
Starry, starry choir.

So, best we inquire
To the Almighty Supplier:
“Will there be a ceasefire
at the top of your golden spire?”

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

“Now Falls Into Then”, 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 “Now Falls Into Then” 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/now-falls-into-then/