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I am Lancashire based, living among the glorious hills and valleys of North Manchester.

I write varied material including poems about my environment, life's annoyances, my childhood, comic and tragic characters I have encountered, observations of life and social comment. A good amount of my work covers my favourite city of Manchester and other towns and villages that have influenced, affected and educated me.

Some are amusing, some thought provoking, some political and some plain silly.

I hope there is something included that you enjoy or maybe relate to.



They ask me what poetry is
It’s a way of communication
It’s a method a mode a message
And maybe alliteration
A thought, an idea, proposition
Suggestion of how something goes
A plan to scan attention span
Manifesto set out in prose
The writing of thoughts can be
Cathartic and revelatory
Give help to hope and cope
Be new and anticipatory.

Take chances and speak how you feel

Progression from here to create

In your mind what you wish to reveal

Spell it out and articulate

So say what is poetry then

It’s really nothing confusing

It’s the thoughts that flow from the pen

In the order of your choosing.


©Steven P. Taylor 2018

I play with prose


I live in literature

I languish in language

I substitute standards

I slip into slanguage

I work with words

I tangle with tones

I wrangle with rhymes

Bring the beef to the bones

I mutter with meter

I struggle with stanza

I study in sentence

To bring a bonanza

I negotiate the noun

I negate the norm

I facilitate the flow

I fracture the form

I fumble and flourish

In fictitious foreplay

I forge a fantasy

Founded on fair play

I frolic with phrases

I fiddle with feelings

I model the moral

I meddle with meanings

I proffer profanities

I produce paragraphs

I let loose in lyric

I linger for laughs

I tumble with type

I toy with terminology

I expound exclamation

I entertain etymology

I vocalise vision

I venture in verse

I compile by conjunction

I craft and I curse

I create with the content

I confide in the caper

I ponder and pause

To put poems on the paper

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