A Throwback Friday Poem – Ivor.Plumber/Poet

Throwback Friday, Soundless

In keeping with this week’s theme on clouds, light, and the quiet mysteries of the universe, I’m revisiting a reflective poem from August 2018. I’ve made a few small word changes — gentle adjustments that preserve the essence of the original piece.

Soundless (Revised)

My celestial dusk is earthward bound.
Evening clouds are not making a sound.
I cannot hear her moon shadows hit the ground,
and our silent night is being slowly drowned.
Then my midnight queen arises, to be crowned —
the Goddess of Light … and I am spellbound.

A soft companion piece, echoing the poem’s silence, carried on a gentle breath of 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 © August 2026

Throwback Friday, Burnt Toast And A Cold Shower

Some mornings test us in small, stubborn ways — cold water, burnt toast, lights that won’t flick on. This old poem from July 2018 reminds me that even on those days, we can reset, breathe, and begin again.

Burnt Toast And A Cold Shower

When it’s so hard to get out of my warm bed,
I force myself to throw the sheets off,
and I face another day again.

When the light doesn’t go on above my head,
I replace the globe and flick the switch,
and I see again

When my shower hot water turns cold,
I patiently wait for the boiler to reheat,
and I shall be ready again.

When the toaster burns my bread,
I turn the grey dial down to three,
and I restart again

When the kettle runs bone dry,
I dutifully refill the jug,
and enjoy a cuppa again.

When breakfast is done, and it’s time to run,
I feel the advantage of being alive,
and I smile at my world again.

And sometimes a song is all it takes to steady the morning 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 © July 2026

Throwback Friday, Long, Long Way (Revised)

Today’s Throwback goes back to August 2019, just months after my second and third strokes — a time when the days were dim, and every movement felt uncertain.
Finding this poem again reminded me how far that long road has stretched. The wattlebirds I photographed today — wings lifted, rising into open sky — feel like symbols of that slow, determined recovery.
This revised piece holds both the struggle and the light that followed.

Long, Long Way (Revised)

I’ve come a long, long way
I remember the bad, bad days
When yesterday’s were dark and grey
On level seven, under heaven’s archway

Lying there immobile and prone
Waiting for the etching of my gravestone
Unable to hear my silent headphones
Unknowingly, spinning inside a black cyclone

I awoke somewhere outside my world’s twilight zone
Slowly realising I’d been saved, and finality was postponed

The soundtrack to those long, long days — and the light that followed.

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 © July 2026

Throwback Friday, Raining Oceans of Tears (Revised)

Today’s Throwback Friday arrives wrapped in rain. Frankie and I stepped out into a cold, wet Geelong evening, and the sky was heavy, brooding, ready to break. It seemed the right moment to revisit a poem from June 2021 — a piece written during another season of quiet storms and overflowing emotion.

Raining Oceans of Tears (Revised)

They can send a machine to Mars,
but cannot repair a blade of grass
in nature’s backyard.

And billions of tears spill into the oceans,
creating a soft-surging swell of love
gradually rolling in from a blue horizon.
Is this the beginning
of the next great flood from above?

The words that are left unsaid
cannot be misread

Without being misread — sometimes the only answer is to let the rain keep falling.

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 © July 2026

Throwback Friday, My Song Plays Through the Night

A bird doing somersaults in the afternoon sky is enough to set my thoughts spinning, too — though that might have something to do with my 75th birthday sneaking up on Monday. So for this Throwback Friday, I’ve dusted off and revised a poem from July 2019, a little night‑music piece full of twists, turns, and rolling dreams. Today’s bird photos feel like they’re joining in, tumbling through the page with me.

My Song Plays Through the Night (Revised)

I twist and roll over.
A musical world whirls inside my head;
my somersault of dreams
rotates under my mattress.
Upside down,
rhythmical tiredness
falls out of the seams.
Words tumble around —
nameless titles
and endless tunes abound.

A bad moon’s returning,
singing the blues over my empty town.
I twist and roll over again;
I’m back where I started.
I hear my angel humming Hallelujah —
you’re another year older.

Let my angel’s humming of Hallelujah carry us into another year.

Ivor Steven © July 2026

Throwback Friday, A Finite in the Infinite

This whimsical, philosophical poem was written in November 2020.
“This universe is the wreckage of the infinite on the shore of the finite”
… Swami Vivekananda

A Finite in the Infinite

Curiosity opens my eyes at first light,
I venture beyond my cocoon of fright,
And begin to see the world’s perceived fears —
Wingless, I crawl away from the sea of tears.

Tired of romancing the stone,
I threw a rock into the ocean,
Hit the great white ghost in the head,
And fed the hungry seagulls more bread.

This is no time to throw the towel in;
I just heard the bell for round two ring.
The power of the universe glows at night,
And I am but a finite in the infinite.

And in the quiet drift between the finite and the infinite, a song reminds us what it means to be alive.

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 © July 2026

Throwback Friday, Steve the Snail. His Story

This lifestyle, philosophical poem was written in November 2022 and returns to a moment of small, steady bravery. Inspired by a lone snail crossing the wet bitumen — slow, deliberate, and determined — it reflects on purpose, persistence, and the quiet journeys we all make.

Steve the Snail. His Story

I wonder what the story was
Why was Steve the Snail?
Crossing the wet bitumen road
There, by himself
Bravely and slowly sliding along
Determined to reach the other side

Steve’s path was a dangerous one
But the purpose of his journey
Remains locked away
Within the privacy
Of his ‘one-story’ home

Steve’s quiet journey reminds us how much courage lives in small, steady steps. Brandi Carlile’s The Story deepens that moment — a song for the hidden reasons and private paths we all carry within our own “one‑story” homes.

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, Lost In Space

Penned in June 2020, now relaunched for Throwback Friday — a flight through memory and space, chasing love through the stars.

Two glimpses of flight — the bird and the moon — guiding the way toward her celestial star.

Lost In Space (Revised)

I’m leaving this land of lost grace
And flying off into space
It’s time to run away
My aircraft, Itmims, is leaving today

Love is a stowaway in the heart
And love needs a head start
Somewhere in this universe
There’s love waiting in her celestial purse

Let the music drift with you into the long dark, where love still finds its way.

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.

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.