“Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.” ~ Robert Frost
Today’s Screenplay, or, Reggae and Crochet
Needing a manuscript breakaway
Talking with the crows at midday
Was a positive and relaxing way
To invigorate my book’s soporific survey
Wishing for a secretary or “Girl Friday”
Then I could sit back and replay
More “Bob Marley” reggae
Or even try my hand at crochet
Ivor Steven (c) October 2025
Whoops: I’ve just updated this article … The scans below clearly indicate my progress. As is my way, once I have pressed the “Start Button”, it’s all systems full steam ahead, and there is no stopping this Poet from downunder while he is on a roll.
From my selected 189 poems, I have now categorized them into ’11 Chapters’ and have already completed Chapters 1, 2, 3, and 4
Short Introduction: Time Hears No Sound
Time doesn’t tick for the poet—it drifts, echoes, and sometimes disappears. In this fourth collection, I invite you to walk with me through landscapes where clocks are irrelevant and memory is the true measure. These eleven chapters explore time as myth, movement, silence, and resistance. From the cosmic to the coffee-stained, from war’s waste to fairy laughter, each poem listens for what time cannot say—and what we must.
Let the silence speak.
Introduction Poem
Lost and Found – or – There, Here, and Where?
There
Lying on solid ground
My shallow shadow wears no face
And utters no sound
Here
My outline bears no carapace
Where
On a graveside mound
I see my darkness
Waiting to be found
Chapters:
1. Once Upon a Time
2. Nature: An Unbiased Timekeeper
3. Time: Hears No Commands
4. The Universe: Infinity Times Infinity
5. Dreaming: A Poet’s Favourite Pastime
6. Travel and Life: Time Flies
7. Governments and Leaders: Behind the Times
8. War: A Waste of Time
9. Humour, Fantasy and Fairies: Timeless
10. Time’s Short Poems: Haiku, Tanka, etc.
11. Poetry in Slow Motion: Who’s Keeping Time?
Ivor Steven (c) October 2025
The Mudlark and the Seagull (a Tanka)
The black and white lark
Said to the whitish seagull
“Gloomy skies today
and clouds are hiding our plumes
from the photographer’s eyes”
Ivor Steven (c) October 2025
Hello, dear readers and followers. As you might know, I have resumed writing my Manuscript for my new book “Time Hears No Sound”, so I thought it was an appropriate time to repost my poem “It is Manuscript Time”
To read my poem, please click on the link below to visit the article at Coffee House Writers Magazine.
>> https://coffeehousewriters.com/it-is-manuscript-time/
Ivor Steven (c) October 2025
Dear friends and fellow poetry lovers,
As midnight continues to be my muse, I wanted to share that my blogging rhythm will be slowing for a few weeks. I’m currently immersed in shaping my fourth poetry manuscript, Time Hears No Sound—a project close to my heart.
During this time, my posts may be fewer and more sporadic, but rest assured, I’m still listening, dreaming, and crafting behind the scenes. Thank you for your continued support, patience, and presence. I look forward to returning with new verses and reflections once this chapter is complete.
Warmly, Ivor
“A quiet reflection on wisdom, war, and the river’s patient memory—where even crows seem to carry questions.”
River of Dreams
I’ve been listening to the crows-
the smart ones, who should know.
Now I’m watching the ancient river flow
around the land’s long, sandy bend.
Do they know where, and when
the current’s undertow
comes to a becalmed end?
Ivor Steven (c) October 2025
“Beliefs are what divide people. Doubt unites them.” ~ Peter Ustinov
In a World of Doubt
To the left of where I sit,
I see a bright red strip
flash across the night sky.
In disbelief, I rub my weary eyes.
I do not panic, or feel fear,
as my vision slowly becomes clear.
I perceive my angel’s lake of tears
has entered my atmosphere.
Awakened, I valiantly swim out,
and try to save my world of doubt.
Ivor Steven (c) October 2025
Recently, the theme of most of my poems has been nature and our treatment of the environment. Today’s Throwback Friday poem, written in October 2019, was also a reflective poem about nature.
Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I’m not sure about the former. … Albert Einstein
Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty. … Albert Einstein
Blue Plastic Tripe
The sun’s filtered warmth
Opens my notebook
And a red wine
Enhances the imagination nook
This Cafe’s quietly humming
Enticing my visions into reality
As my heart beats out a rhyme
Listening to melodic rhythms
And I sing to myself, a worldly question
Do we have the character —
to repair our transgressions?
A forest symphony’s chiming,
“All my leaves are brown.”
Touching a sensitive soul, one more time
Forcing my dancing feet down to the coastline
Where I hear Mother Earth, singing the blues
And sad mermaids are playing harps in tune,
to the ancient whales, deep moaning sounds
” The ocean now covers me, in plastic tripe”
Are we hearing the lullaby of his final night?
.
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 © October 2025
“Even in the middle of nowhere, wings remember their purpose.” —A reflection on leadership, illusion, and the quiet strength of flight.
A King Without Wings (a Tanka)
In the pilot’s chair
I see warning lights out there
In the deep, dark air
Suspended in nowhere’s grip
Who knew — the King had wings, too?
Photograph by Derrick Knight, https://derrickjknight.com/2025/10/20/a-rainy-forest-drive/ —whose lens captured this rooftop sentinel, where vein, vane, and vain converge in eerie silhouette. A moment of atmospheric ambiguity that stirred the pulse behind these lines.
Vein, Vane, and Vain
Beyond the tower of power,
I see an ambiguous, billowing vein
Lingering above the dim atmosphere.
The ancient weather vane
Whirls and curls instantly
When nature alters direction.
The modern receiving antenna
Vainly waits for a distorted signal,
Decoding the Alien’s telepathic pulse,
Which then directs us on how to conform.
Ivor Steven (c) October 2025
Hello, dear readers and followers. I write for Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) fortnightly, and my poem “Paddling in Time” is in this week’s edition. This piece was originally inspired by a poetic response that I wrote for Ali Grimshaw’s post >>
Paddling away – Poem by Ali Grimshaw | flashlight batteries – Ali Grimshaw
“This piece explores the elusive nature of time—how it moves without direction, listens to no command, and yet shapes everything. I wrote it while reflecting on the quiet rhythm of travel and the way moments slip past like water under a paddle.”
To read the poem, please click the link below to visit my Coffee House Writers Magazine article.
>> https://coffeehousewriters.com/paddling-in-time/
.
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 © October 2025
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 