Poetry/Australia – Ivor.Plumber/Poet

One of the Crowd

After a stretch of nostalgic posts and tender reflections, I found myself drawn back to the calm of the outdoors today. There’s something reassuring about standing under a wide sky, watching a flock move as one — a reminder that even a quiet gatecrasher can find a place to belong.

One of the Crowd

Beneath the drifting clouds,
within the circling flock
who ritually gather
from all around the block,
I enjoy being one of the crowd —
and I’m socially allowed
to be a peaceful gatecrasher.

In the easy company of wings and drifting light, I found my way back to calm.

Ivor Steven © April 2026

Along This Road

As the evening sky burned low, it carried me back to a younger road — one lit with promise, before time dimmed the colours I thought would last.

Today, the Weekend Challenge on Weekly Prompts is the word “Interlude.” To visit their fabulous site, please click >> Here

Along This Road

Once upon a time —
when I was young, and life glowed,
I came along this road
where twilight’s crimson light
meets the edge of night.

Beyond once upon a time,
I saw her candle of joy turn white,
and her happy fire fell out of sight.
Thereafter, her merciless plight
became an ongoing, cruel fight.

Ivor Steven © April 2026

Today

Today arrived with a hush, stirring old memories and opening a space to sit with love and loss.

Today

Today,
the misty clouds are not moving,
and my world has stopped rotating.

Today,
time became becalmed
in a blue lagoon
full of my memories and rhymes

Today
I felt her angelic soul reminding me,
“Stay there for a while longer,
let me linger in your loving heartbeat.

I’ll let this song carry the feeling that lingers.

Ivor Steven © April 2026

Throwback Friday, Under the Snow (a Revisit)

A special poem I wrote, after I’d taken my Lady to the hospital for the last time, on the day of her 65th birthday, fourteen years ago.

Hello Carole, time goes by, and my heart has not moved …

Under The Snow

We emanate to a birthday.
We deflate to a final day.
Birthdays, they all come, they all go.
Birthdays, in the sunshine, under the snow.
Birthdays, slow to mature, quickly an eon.
Birthdays, before we are born, after we are gone.
Birthdays, hanging on by a breath.
Birthdays, nailed to a cross ’til death.
What does it all mean to be alive and cry?
What does it all mean to live and to die?

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 © April 2026

Time Hears No Sound, Cover Reveal (by Kerri Costello)

Time Hears No Sound, Cover Reveal (by Kerri Costello) Today, I’m delighted to reveal the front and back covers of Time Hears No Sound. There’s a quiet magic in these designs, and I hope you feel it too.

The artwork comes from my Philadelphia niece, Graphic Design Artist Kerri Costello, whose creative touch has shaped the covers of my last three books—Tullawalla, Perceptions, and Until Eyes Hear Sound.

The disintegrating clock at the centre of the cover reflects the book’s core idea: that time is less a mechanism than a mystery. The warm sky mirrored in the lake suggests memory’s calm surface, while the darker tones around the edges hint at the silences and shadows the poems explore. Together, the colours and imagery echo the journey of the collection—where time drifts, dissolves, and reveals what it cannot say aloud.

To accompany the cover reveal, here’s the Tanka that closes the collection:

Timeless (a Tanka)

Once upon a time
At the beginning of time
What was before time?
Where’s the origin of time?
Infinity is timeless

Ivor Steven © April 2026

Nine Crows and the Moon

Nine crows rise beneath a watching moon, each carrying a whisper of the hour.

Nine Crows and the Moon

I suppose it’s in my DNA,
as is my way,
like every other day.

I look up from under
my old tattered beret,
then begin to wonder
who’s at play today?

At nine minutes to noon,
ten is the number —
nine crows plus the moon.

Soon it’ll be afternoon,
and the midday crescent moon,
will be retiring to his bedroom.

A tune to keep the moon company as the morning clears away.

Ivor Steven © April 2026

Literary Revelations Press, Anthology, Haiku for Soulmates

I’m very pleased to share that Literary Revelations Press has accepted five of my haiku for publication in their new anthology, Haiku for Soulmates, edited by Gabriela Marie Milton. A lovely surprise, and a moment worth celebrating.

Learn more about Literary Revelations Press: https://literaryrevelations.com

Not one of the selected five — just a fresh haiku to mark the moment.

Birds of a Feather (a Haiku)

The black and white birds
Fly happily together
A wing span apart

A favourite song to accompany the moment

Ivor Steven © April 2026

This week’s Coffee House Writers Magazine features my new poem, “Arise With My Light.”

Featured Image Above: From the far edge of light, a voice rises — calling across distance, across darkness, urging the soul to fly toward the light.

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, “Arise With My Light,” appears in the new issue. You can read it by following the link below.
>> Arise With My Light – Coffee House Writers

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.

The World’s Cold Old Fire

Here in the quiet between sun and trees, I steady myself before the day’s cold fire.

The World’s Cold Old Fire

Beyond the trees,
I see our warm old sun.
We do not have another one.

Above the trees,
I see our bold old moon.
We do not have another one.

Among the trees,
here I stand
on earth’s wartime cremated land.
We do not have another one.

Here I sway,
with hand on my heart —
I do not have another one.

I’m being immorally overwhelmed
by the world’s cold old fire.
We do not need another one.

A song to walk with through the world’s cold old fire.

Handless Watchbands, or Who’s Counting

As the weekend’s protest thread continues, this poem looks at what we count — and what we choose not to.

VJ’s article on holding to a deeper “why” nudged me toward this poem — a poignant protest shaped by questions of time, land, and what we risk by looking away.
Her story is below—the spark behind this poem.
>> Having a Why – One Woman’s Quest

Also, over at Weekly Prompts, the Weekend Challenge is the word Invasive. To visit their fabulous site, please click >> Here

Handless Watchbands, or Who’s Counting

How many grains of sand
are left in the ancient hourglass?
Why are the Holy grasslands
a desert full of misguided missiles
and handless watch bands?

How many missiles
do the leaders in Versailles
have to count
before the amount
is called genocide?

For what we cannot look away from, let the song bear witness.