Beneath this heavy sundown, the cracks in our modern bravado show themselves — in the sky, in the poem, and in the song that shadows them both.
The Heavy Sound of Sundown
I feel the heavy copper sundown
shake the dry, crusty ground
of this dirty old town.
I hear an orange clown,
slyly searching around
for a silent sound
that is not profound.
I see the world’s wedding gown
being torn and drowned,
as the desert honeymoon
remains uncrowned and hellbound.
Ivor Steven © March 2026
Featured Image Above: A veiled moon, a steady pulse — answering Susi’s quiet reflection.’
Thank you to Susi; her article, “Calm”, inspired my Senryu >> Calm – I Write Her
Calico Curtains
(a Senryu)
When the lights are dim
Behind life’s silent curtain
The show carries on
‘Behind the silent curtain, the world still trembles — Cohen answers where my haiku whispers.’
Ivor Steven © March 2026
Featured Image Above: A bleak sky, fleeing wings, and a world on edge—echoed in the voice of “Iron Sky.”
A thank you to Derrick for inspiring the theme of this poem, even though I didn’t use his photo this time. His article nudged me to write.
>> Confusion About The Month – derrickjknight
Gulls Over Dover
The sky turns a hessian dull
as our silly world spins towards
another war zone cull.
The frightened gulls
of Dover flee north to Hull,
too wary of looking backwards,
haunted by humanity’s disparities
Ivor Steven © March 2026
A whispered protest beneath a heavy sky—this poem emerged over coffee and quiet defiance.
No More Alibis
I shyly worry, and quietly sigh
about today’s ugly, dark sky.
In the blink of an eye,
the sun might say, “Hi”
and the world awry,
could be rectified.
No more alibis,
or black eyes.
It’s time to notify
the blow-dried wise guy:
The world is not his money supply
We will not be tongue-tied,
nor listen to his falsified
“War cry.”
Ivor Steven © January 2026
Loaded Guns (a Tu-aiku*)
Sitting on the line,
observing daylight’s decline –
isn’t a hanging crime.
But innocent ones
are still being outgunned by
The world’s loaded guns.
*Tu-aiku – Ivor’s name for a Dual Haiku
Ivor Steven © January 2026
Featured Image Above: Created by Copilot and me.
A bell without a gong. A dove without a sky. A poem for uneasy times, paired with Leonard Cohen’s “Anthem.”
Ding Dong
Wondering –
Who’s right and what’s wrong?
Pondering –
Who’s weak and what’s strong?
Unearthing
Another Viet Cong,
Hearing the same old song.
Listening –
The peace bell has no gong.
Foreboding –
Where has the holy dove gone?
Wishing,
Hoping –
Forever too long.
Ivor Steven © January 2026
“Peace is not something you wish for; it’s something you make, something you do, something you are, and something you give away.”
— John Lennon
“When doors close, and wars roar, let peace be the key we choose to turn.”
Today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in March 2024) is drawn from my upcoming book, Time Hears No Sound. It appears as the third poem in Chapter 8, War: A Waste of Time
Are All the Doors Closed?
Scores of uncultured doors
Closed pores of the old stores
Hiding drawers of past accords
The forgotten ardours of wise mentors
Now, just condescending decors
to the new wars
Like cantankerous dinosaurs
with itchy bedsores
.
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 © December 2025
“They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning we will remember them.” ~ Laurence Binyon
Let We Forget
Ivor Steven (c) 11th November 2025
Featured Image Above: Black-and-white photo of a street art mural depicting a tug-of-war between a Russian and Ukrainian soldier on a war memorial in Izyum, Ukraine. (Getty Images photo)
Hello, dear readers and followers. I write for Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) fortnightly, and my poem “Restore Rapport” is in this week’s edition.
Written in the quiet hours of early morning, Restore Rapport is a poetic protest against the machinery of war and the silence that surrounds it. Inspired by the ongoing conflicts in Ukraine and the Middle East, this piece asks: Where is the understanding? What are innocent lives being sacrificed for?
“Peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved by understanding.” — Einstein
To read the poem, please click the link below to visit my Coffee House Writers Magazine article.
>> https://coffeehousewriters.com/restore-rapport/
.
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 © November 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
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 