Poems – Page 2 – Ivor.Plumber/Poet

It’s Sad

What began as two simple responses — one to the city’s hard truths, one to the fading light — has merged into a single reflection on how we move through darkness and bridge life’s rolling undertow.

The first stanza is Nancy’s, and the second is David’s.
Nancy … Asphalt Jungle – The Elephant’s Trunk
David … We stand, or: Our bodies tilt – The Skeptic’s Kaddish 🇮🇱

It’s Sad

It’s sad how some people can sink so low.
It’s sad how the onlookers come and go.
It’s sad how Skid Row groans and crows.
It’s sad how urban rainbows lose their glow,
and drown in life’s rolling undertow

Nearing the looming edge of night,
is there a hidden bridge
between life’s fading light
and that last, unbroken ridge?

And somewhere in the half‑light, we keep searching for the bridge to span life’s rolling undertow.

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

Descending

In the hazy mid‑morning light, the moon lingers above the trees as if carrying a memory too heavy to hold.

Descending

Descending through the treetops
the moon appears to stop —
pausing for a moment,
looking despondent.

Naturally, I ask
“Why such a gloomy face?”

“Only a millennium ago
the earth was a jungle of trees,
but now I perceive
only a fallow globe of woe.”

The moon moves on, whispering its sorrow to anyone willing to listen.

Ivor Steven © May 2026

Drowning in Blue (a Tanka)

“Some days the clear sky feels heavier than the clouds we can’t see. Today, the blue above me felt deeper than it looked.”

Drowning in Blue (a Tanka)

Exhaustipated
And discombobulated
Or maybe just tired
Of feeling like I’m drowning
In this endless wash of blue.

A song that drifts in the same blue.

Ivor Steven © May 2026

Magazine features my new poem, “An Interview With Time.”

Hello, dear readers and followers. I contribute to Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) every second week, and I’m delighted to share that my latest poem, “An Interview With Time,” appears in the new issue. You can read it by following the link below.
>> An Interview With Time – Coffee House Writers

I’ve written about Time in many poems before, and a few of those familiar lines resurfaced as I shaped this one. It felt natural to bring them together here — especially on a day when Time was willing to cooperate and stand still for a moment.

In the stillness where Time stands present, let the music hold the vow that words can only touch.

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

Before the Stars Arise

A quiet moment at day’s end with a strange, familiar weight — the sky unravels into its darker self.

Before the Stars Arise

The evening’s curtain is half drawn
Long shadows spread across the lawn

The hessian horizon resembled the Dawn
As the hazy sky turned a colour fawn

Meanwhile, the bronze clouds groaned and yawned
As though they’d been wrongfully spawned and pawned

Then the world’s breath grows taut and thin
And the approaching darkness folds us in

Let the music carry the last light a little further into the evening.

Ivor Steven © May 2026

Willing (a Haiku)

G’day readers. It has been an emotional weekend — my mother’s birthday yesterday, my wife’s funeral day, and Mother’s Day today here in Australia. This haiku is a small tribute to the gracious and courageous women who shaped me, and to the strength their lives still give me as I move forward.

Willing (a Haiku)

Still willing to fly
Black sky and an arctic wind
Nothing holds me back

For the women who taught me to rise, even on the coldest of days.

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.

Nature’s Canvas (two Haiku)

These two haiku grew from different moments — the first shaped by the quiet colours in my own sky, the second written in response to Colleen’s moon‑lit Quadrille (link below). Together they trace a small passage from daylight’s pastel calm to the deeper bloom of night.
Link: Colleen’s post — The Moon flower, Quadrille, dVerse – Tanka Tuesday

Nature’s Canvas (two Haiku)

The white canvas clouds
Hover in front of the sun
Nature’s pastel sky

In darkness she blooms
The other side of the moon
Above her white tomb

For the moments we hold, and the ones that slip beyond us.

I’m a Silly Old Black Angel

Featured Image Above: A silly old black angel, flapping through another strange day on Earth.

This morning I sent this comment to Gigi’s post — her unbelievable story truly blew me away. Her words sparked something in me, and from that spark I shaped this composite poem. Here’s the original piece that set everything in motion: “A very silly short story…” by Rethinking Life. And Gigi’s reply afterwards said it all: “Ivor, that was wonderful. Can’t thank you enough.”
>> A very silly short story… | Rethinking Life

I’m a Silly Old Black Angel

Beauty is a thing everywhere,
but the definition changes constantly
according to place and species.

Maybe I’m supposed to bring peace to earth,
but no one can do that.
This place is all crazy,
and there’s no argument
against the truth — right!

Life on Earth is so unfair,
and I think I’m supposed to
do something about that too,
but I’ve no idea.
Everything seems so unjust.

I’ll think about it later
What if there is no later?
I suppose then, it won’t matter.
But does anything matter?
“No,” I thought.

And then all of my words,
just kind of flew away.

A quiet place to land, while the world keeps turning beneath my wings.