Featured Image Above: Yesterday’s silhouette. A crow arcs through the sky— fractured wings, tattered heartstrings. Time flies, but never asks permission.
Time Flies
I need to escape the fray,
and fly away from yesterday.
Time does not feel the undertow;
Time is hungry like a crow.
But how far can I go with fractured wings
and tattered heartstrings?
Time does not need a manager —
Time carries no passengers.
Ivor Steven (c) November 2025
Featured Image Above: Yesterday’s café visit lingered in my thoughts… and became this poem. A world briefly unbroken.
The first 8 images are from my walking track this morning, and the last 3 images are from my sister’s walking track in Smythsdale.
A World Briefly Unbroken
Through the gate we go,
To find today’s silhouettes and shadows,
And to replay nature’s unspoiled show.
Spring has finally awoken;
Blue sky has ceased being a hidden token,
And this mad world of poisonous potions
Briefly hovers before our eyes, unbroken
Ivor Steven (c) November 2025
Today’s Throwback Friday poem is drawn from my upcoming book, Time Hears No Sound. It opens Chapter 3, Time: Hears No Commands—a section that explores the quiet rebellion of nature and spirit against the ticking of the clock.
Flying Through Time
Flying below the clouds
or
Zooming above the bay
or
Swooping across the paddocks
My wings
are oblivious
to the climb
And do not hear
the sound of 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
Ivor Steven (c) January 2025
A Hardy Magpie (a Tanka)
There’s no birds today
The cold has kept them away
But I don’t despair
Sheltering in the gum tree
I see a hardy magpie
Ivor Steven (c) November 2025
My Legislator
Sun shines through the pines.
Wattlebirds in the wattletrees.
More crows than magpies.
Butterflies and dragonflies.
Rabbits digging for carrots.
Manuscripts under the eucalypts,
Writers lighting campfires.
Poetry — no need for a legislator.
Nature is my translator.
Ivor Steven (c) November 2025
“Surfacing from the sea of edits — Frankie keeps watch while I wrestle the waves of words.”
Drowning in Words
Emerging from a sea of black and white,
Normal fonts floating to the right,
Italic letters cascading to the left —
Manuscript time has been my head chef.
The last race on the card is over.
Proofreading is suffering from overexposure.
My foggy mind is resting under the cloud cover,
And I’m recuperating on a bed of clover.
“Proofreading fatigue meets sonic flood — Amanda Palmer’s ‘Drowning in the Sound’ echoes the emotional undertow of my own ‘Drowning in Words.’”
Ivor Steven © November 2025
My Facial Trim (a Haiku by Frankie)
My boos cut my hair
I haven’t seen a mirror yet!
Do I look Ok?
Ivor Steven & Frankie (c) November 2025
“Then, contented with my state,
Where true pleasure may be seen,
Let me envy not the great,
On a cheerful village green.” … from “The Village Green”, a poem by Jane Taylor.
The Village Green (a Tanka)
There’s something calming
About watching birds flying
At the village green
Among the picnickers and
Through our springtime’s shady trees
Ivor Steven (c) November2025
A Warm and Wet Spring Day
Our ever-changing spring is here again.
We’ve been walking between affectionate raindrops,
dodging the refilling, familiar puddles,
and watching Mudlark’s waddle in the ponds
We’ve appreciated nature’s flirtatious ways
refreshing our frazzled faculties.
Ivor Steven © November 2025
Sunlit wanderers above the trees—wattlebirds in motion, igniting the sky with feathered sparks and poetic wonder.
Wings of the Sun (a Tanka)
They often ask why
I love to watch wattlebirds
Fly under the sun:
“their colourful plumes ignite
my eye’s imagination.”
Ivor Steven (c) November 2025
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 