POEMS
A small selection of my poems..
Hope you like.
Please feel free to comment on anything at all on this site.
FISH CHIPS AND MUSHY PEAS
It’s a great gastronomic concept
It’s a wonderful work of art
It tantalises the taste buds
It challenges the heart
It’s a staple for the family
Always guaranteed to please
It’s what meal times are all about
It’s fish chips and mushy peas
A batter of flour and water
Envelopes that haddock or cod
And seals in the flavour of oceans
To produce the food of the gods
The finest Maris Piper potatoes
In the chip world are the bee’s knees
With steeped green marrowfat babies
Perfect fish chips and mushy peas
Don’t mess with this battered beast
No ponsy triple cooked fries
Leave those peas like they were intended
No unwanted culinary surprise
It’s an essential on a winter’s day
Or alfresco in a summer breeze
Whether on a plate or in newspaper
It’s fish chips and mushy peas
Why would it cross your mind to eat
Caviar, truffles or beef cheeks
Hold back those plates of indulgence
For the sybaritic freaks
The world’s greatest sport stars and athletes
Don’t live on Indian and Chinese
They need calories to bring them stamina
Which comes from fish chips and peas
It’s a delicious deep-fried delicacy
An epicurean delight
We want none of your nouvelle cuisine
It’s a proper chippy tea tonight
It’s one of the major facts of life
As important as birds and the bees
You’ll find improvement in your love making
After fish chips and mushy peas
It’s all the sustenance needed
The food of the gods without doubt
All the nourishment you could wish for
It’s the dinner to shout about
So, stick with the original fast food
No pizzas or burgers with cheese
You’ll only be in food heaven when dining
On fish chips and mushy peas
SPT.
HAPPY 'WHATEVERS' DAY
Father’s Day
Mother’s Day
Any bloody others day.
Just a game
Just a trend
Another way to make you spend.
Make an effort
Make a show
Once a year to let them know.
Make them wanted
Make it real
Take them for some shitty meal.
Buy them flowers
Buy them chocs
Like birthdays but without new socks.
It’s not from you
It’s a farce
Just for once get off your arse.
Life is good
When you share
In that moment show you care.
But it’s commercial
It’s enforced
It’s what’s expected now of course.
So happy Easter/
Halloween
Or anytime we reconvene.
So thanks for life
And thanks for health
And thanks for thinking for yourself.
To show your love
Before you’re old
When you feel not when you’re told !
Happy ‘Clintons’ payday.
SPT
HOW TO WRITE A POEM
Take a chosen subject
Give it your own twist
Use proper right grammar
On wot I must insist
Keep your writing tight
Use the right amount of text
Judge the rhythm carefully
So it doesn’t flow onto the next
Line
Be open and specific
Try not to be vague
Don’t use clichés
Avoid them like the plague
And always remember
Each and every time
To go with the flow and
Make sure it rhymes properly
​
If you are doing
Haiku always plan in ad-
-vance, or it doesn't
When reading your poems
Be clear and precise
Don’t mumble and mnmnmnmn
mnmnmnmnmn nice
And repetition isn’t clever
Not ever ever ever
Repetition isn’t clever
Not ever clever
Avoid Plagiarism
Which isn’t allowed
Regardless of how much
You've wandered lonely as a cloud
Keep the poem flowing
Just the way it should
Be sure to get the right number
Of syllables on each line otherwise it won’t scan correctly and throw the poem and won’t sound good
Think of a poem
Like a special party
Don’t make the mistake
Of getting all a
r
t
y
Finally, some advice
Which always should be heeded
Don’t use profanities
That aren’t fuckin needed
The structure is essential
And knowing where you’re going
So make sure that the ending
Fits
​
SPT
I got on the bus from Ramsbottom to Bury on Saturday night and a friend was already on it and pointed out that there was a bra lying on the floor.
He said ‘you could do a poem about that’
I said ‘don’t be ridiculous’ ……. X
……. So here it is 🥴
THERE’S A BRA ON THE BUS
There’s a bra been left on the bus
It’s a topic we should discuss
It’s an odd type of greeting
By the priority seating
And it’s causing a bit of a fuss
I’ve travelled Bee Network quite far
Till now never encountered a bra
I’ve seen coats and shoes
There’s so much that folk lose
It’s more interesting than going by car
I can’t help but picture the scene
Some may think it a bit obscene
The removal of a bra
You might say a step too far
But I think It’s a passenger’s dream
These journeys are usually dull
Like a wet weekend in Hull
But even though strange
This does make a change
As usually all bus bras are full
So why on a bus ride to Bury
Was underwear removed in a hurry
Where will it end
If this is the trend
It really would be a worry
But the Bee Network spokesman says
There be no more impromptu displays
And allowing underwear on the floor
Of the Ramsbottom 474
Was a big boob in many ways
So, in honour of the braless ‘She’
There for everyone to see
The Networks arranged
To have the bus number changed
To the ‘34 Double D’
SPT
A LOVE POEM
You are the worm in my apple
You're the mould on my fruit
You're the slug in my truffle box
You're the stone in my boot
You're the wasp at my picnic
You're the fly in my butter
You're the floater in the swimming pool
You're the condom in the gutter
You’re the uninvited cold caller
You’re the migraine in my head
You’re the screaming baby on the plane
You’re the wet patch on the bed
You're the empty toilet roll holder
You're the spider in my bath
You're the caterpillar on my salad
You're my audience that don't laugh
You're the Lego under my bare foot
You're the dog turd on the grass
You're the nail in my car tyre
You're a pain in the flaming ass
​
SPT
ALL POEMS AND WEB SITE CONTENT COPYRIGHT © STEVEN P. TAYLOR 2018
ONE NIGHT
Let’s book a room somewhere cheap
Let’s talk about matters deep
Let’s go to bed but not to sleep
Let’s make promises we won’t keep.
Let’s plan for a future we won’t see
In our utopia you and me
Then ask each other to be set free
It’s how to go it’s how to be.
We’ll say we’ll set the world alight
Away from all that’s crass and trite
But soon enough we’ll just take flight
And steal away into the night
Lets pretend that we’re not lovers
Take no notice of the others
Know that we won’t be discovered
Live our lies beneath the covers.
​
SPT
ACROSS THE BAY
Gazing across the vast bay,
Sun down at the close of day,
And the two of us flirted,
On a beach deserted,
As the tide just ebbs away.
And the feeling of peace is there,
And there’s stirrings of love in the air,
Whatever we do,
It’s just me and you,
For the rest I really don’t care.
And the mountains that rise o’er the sea,
In the distance majestically,
Stand bold and tall,
Looking down on us all,
And are solid as are you and me.
SPT
HIGH TIDE
The ruthless crashing waves are breaking
A thousand photos for the taking
Stroll through clouds of salty mist
Embrace the taste of nature’s kiss
As winter tides thrash unforgiving
Churning with a lust for living
The ocean with its power on course
Relentless in its strength and force
Irrepressible rage is ever present
Ferocious, formidable, incessant.
To stand and watch to stop and stare
Will calmly drench the unaware
Scaring daring passing by
The chance to glance when tide is high
Dark and deep, fraught with danger
The wondrous spectacle of nature
​
SPT
CONFIDE
Innermost thoughts are suppressed,
Held fright too tight inside,
With no one will they be shared,
And left, bereft to decide.
And fester and grow they will,
With no outlet all contained,
And the mind can’t always cope alone,
Irrationality unrestrained.
So speak and share with those close,
Confide your deepest dark fears,
And in sight a light could emerge,
That will free to see through the tears.
Open up and take help as given,
There’s no weakness in showing fear,
A thought withheld can break man,
Throw down pride for life is more dear.
SPT.
AGING AINT EASY
Aging aint easy
It comes with diseases
With aches and pains
And toilet strains
Weakening brains
And varicose veins
Constant sweating
Worrying, forgetting
Heavy frown
When sitting down
Fewer smiles
With painful piles
Feeling regretful
Panicky, fretful
No hair on your head
Ears and noses instead
You’ve withering parts
Involuntary farts
Burning hot flushes
Quick toilet rushes
Ailments battling
Tablets rattling
Sagging and drooping
Hunching and stooping
Your expected vanity
Drives you to insanity
Your joints are worn
And you look forlorn
Bones clicking and creaking
And parts of you leaking
You feel doom and gloom
As you walk in a room
And you suddenly sigh ......
When you can’t remember why
Your water works don’t
Your certain urges wont
The new route to thrills
Comes in little blue pills
Oh you feel uneasy
And slightly queasy
Coughing and wheezy
Yeh aging ain’t easy