Gigi, wrote these words
“all of those things
divide us
separate us
they are labels
and we are not merchandise”
Below, is my poetic reply
Gigi >> This is what is done to all of us… | Rethinking Life
Stamped and Dispatched
once upon a time
a poet without rhyme
looked up from the waiting line —
the sky whispered its warning:
you were never meant to wear a label,
nor born to be one‑of‑a‑kind
Ivor Steven © May 2026
A few dreamy mushrooms from my poetic wanderings that nudged my thoughts
WordPress says I’m a social butterfly. This weekend, I’ll be more of a market‑stall moth.
Dreamy Mushrooms
The poet is not dead,
and not even seriously injured.
Do not fret —
today he’s at the Creative Market
With his poetry books,
sharing the words
that slipped and slid out of his head.
He’ll be back tomorrow,
after his dreamy mushrooms
have been sent to bed.
Let the music hold the hush that lingers after the last dreamy mushrooms are gently tucked into bed.
Ivor Steven © May 2026
In keeping with this week’s ‘Bird’ theme, today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in May 2023) is drawn from my third book, Until Eyes Hear Sound. It appears as a poem in Chapter 1: Little Creatures and the Birds
Bird on a Ladder
I am a blackbird on a circus ladder
Singing about how the world is feeling sadder
Or should I sing, “becoming madder”
Here on the last rung, I stand
Below, I see a treeless land
Above, I hear a breathless sky
After the show, I untangle my necktie
And I ask you why
“Does it matter, when I leap, what route do I fly?”
“Let the music spin the world’s madness into something we can still sing about
.
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 © May 2026
In the hush between treetops, sky, and the distant sun, small moments of flight remind us how quietly the world keeps holding on
Dependable
From the resilient treetops,
the curious crows know
the honourable sun never stops —
rain, sleet, or snow.
Warming our souls
from light-years away,
yet far outreaching
our ordinary day.
And beyond the crows’
resourceful thinking,
where the sky’s mystical banjos
are perpetually playing
And somewhere beneath all this light and shadow, we keep finding the strength to rise again.
Ivor Steven © May 2026
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, “I’m Quietly Flying Around,” appears in the new issue. You can read it by following the link below.
>> I’m Quietly Flying Around – Coffee House Writers
There’s a peacefulness in flying alone for a while, until the friendly and noisy Corellas swoop in to remind me I’m never truly by myself up there.
A small song to keep me company while I’m quietly flying around.
.
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 © May 2026
Today, a casual stroll on the path turned into an unexpected glimpse of tenderness, and all we can do is slow our steps and witness the quiet life unfolding at our feet
A Mid-Morning Fling
It was odd to see larks
Lying on the concrete path.
At first, I thought
One of them was injured.
Then, as I approached
For a closer gander,
The grounded bird
Was not wounded at all,
But pleasantly enjoying
Her partner’s advances.
And as I edged nearer,
My unexpected presence
Did disrupt their
Mid-morning fling.
A gentle reminder that even the smallest moments can shift the rhythm of a day — just as a song can shift the rhythm of a heart
Ivor Steven © May 2026
In the hush of a grey autumn morning, two birds wheel away into the distance, leaving behind a question only the sky can answer.
How and Why
Two silhouettes fluttering in the sky,
Together, the shadows swoop by.
Flying among Autumn’s silent clouds,
There above Humanity’s rowdy crowd.
They gaze down and wonder how
That lawless mob did somehow allow
Nature’s garden to become holier-than-thou.
The birds quietly turn and wave goodbye
And decide: theirs not to reason why.
As the birds wheel away from the how and why, step with the music into the space where the poem’s questions still linger.
Here are a few lyrics from “We Lost The Sea – A Quiet Place.”
“Abandon control, obey gravity
From here, earth’s claw cannot over bare
I hear nothing, dead silence
I grasp as comfort
I pilot limbs as if they were wings
Carve through the clouds
Plummet to the below
I pilot limbs”
Ivor Steven © May 2026
In keeping with this week’s ‘Environment’ theme, today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in July 2020) is drawn from my upcoming book, Time Hears No Sound. It appears as a poem in Chapter 2, Nature: An Unbiased Timekeeper
Polar Bears and Cold Sheep
hello world, do you see my frown?
will the blizzards ever calm down?
will the rains forever fall on broken ground?
will our tears of silence be the only sound?
the frozen wounds are deep
the mountains of snow are steep
humans need to stop being cold sheep
and begin taking their own individual leaps
the rewards of being caring and kind
far outweigh the coldness of being left behind
For the wounds we’ve carved into the earth, may this music echo the quiet truth our planet keeps trying to tell us.
Ivor Steven © May 2026
On our buckled bloc, innocence stands alone on thinning ground.
Our Buckled Bloc
Have we lost the plot?
Here, on our buckled bloc.
The planet is still spinning,
but the environment is shrinking.
The polar bears are dying;
isolated, Nature is only surviving
and is visibly crying.
The land is scarred and blistered,
the oceans unwisely polluted,
and even the air we breathe is tainted.
Here’s a song to wander with through the world we’ve weathered.
Ivor Steven © May 2026
After wrestling with the usual tangle of messages and mischief‑makers, I stepped onto the track for a breath of real air. The wattlebirds were already there, perched and unbothered, reminding me that the sky has no time for scammers or phishers — and neither should I.
Wattlebirds Are No Log-jammers
After wading through my pool of emails,
the clean-up I had planned did fail.
Anyhow, it was time for my morning walk
among nature’s wattlebirds and hawks.
Despite the cool, misty rain
The refreshing breeze will clear my foggy brain
Not far along the wet, winding track,
I see a wattlebird having a peaceful nap,
perched high up in the tree’s branches,
oblivious to humanity’s modern advances.
Beautiful wattlebirds are not log-jammers,
river phishers, or honey scammers
They are free to do as they please
and can fly away from any tight squeeze.
A small reminder that the sky is always wider than the noise.
Ivor Steven © May 2026
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 