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
I always make my bed in the morning As soon as I get up. Surprise, surprise! When I arrived home from outing To the Geelong Short Play Festival show There: my bed covers, we’re all ruffled up! “Who had been sleeping in my bed?”
When I left my house There was only one guy inside To look after the place While I was out having a good time Yep! … you guessed it That, guilty-looking, “Frankie”
“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.’”
Throwback Friday: Shadows Revisited. First shared in January 2025, this poem now finds its place as the opening to my upcoming collection, Time Hears No Sound.
The final proofreading of my upcoming poetry collection, Time Hears No Sound, is nearly complete. This weekend marks the last quiet read-through before I send it off to my editor and publisher (Judy). Meanwhile, my talented cover designer (Kerri) is crafting the book’s visual soul. There’s still a journey ahead, but everything is unfolding beautifully. Thank you for walking beside me.
Lost and Found – or – There, Here, and Where?
There Lying on solid ground, my shallow shadow wears no face And utters no sound.
Here My outline bears no carapace.
Where On a graveside mound, I see my darkness — waiting to be found.
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
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
“Time Hears No Sound” Good news! I’ve completed the first draft of my manuscript and have begun the initial proofreading phase. I’m delighted to share that my previous editor and publisher, Judy Rankin, along with the talented cover designer and illustrator, Kerri Costello, have both agreed to join me on this new project. Their support means the world as I take this next step. Manuscript Details:189 poems, 177 pages, and 11,555 words.
Proofreading at the Cafe
There’s a manuscript in my knapsack, Traveling along with every step I take Proofreading is a necessary backtrack – Page after page, in between coffee breaks,
Until the task is completed, Even if I am feeling exhaustipated.
‘On the Nature of Daylight‘ by Max Richter — the kind of music I listen to while proofreading. Gentle, expansive, and quietly stirring, it helps me hear the silence between the words.
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 