Stevie Taite

Rookie - 78 Points (30th January 1973 / Kent, England)

Stevie Taite Poems

1. Friday Night 8/9/2012
2. I Pinch But Flesh Does Not Answer 8/10/2012
3. Converse 8/10/2012
4. Product Appeal 8/11/2012
5. Invest In Friends 8/11/2012
6. Messy Daughter 8/13/2012
7. Rose Tinted Glasses 8/15/2012
8. Make Friends 8/16/2012
9. Putting Computers In Their Place 8/20/2012
10. I Need A Mentor 8/21/2012
11. Left Can'T Be Left Without Right 8/19/2012
12. Id And The Ego's 8/23/2012
13. Honour Killing? 8/25/2012
14. Surrealism 8/31/2012
15. Grow A Happy Tree 9/1/2012
16. Time For A Break 9/7/2012
17. There Once Was A Poet Called Thomas 10/1/2012
18. Seale Limerick 10/1/2012
19. Payal Limerick 10/2/2012
20. Longing A Banished Word! 10/1/2012
21. Pictures From Bama 11/16/2012
22. Unkept 2/20/2013
23. Unkept (Remastered To Be True To The Roundel Format.) 2/21/2013
24. King Henry's Roast Pig 7/18/2015
25. Serpentine 7/6/2016
26. Fishing 8/21/2012
27. Mind Over Matter 8/16/2012
28. Driftwood 8/9/2012
29. High Board 8/10/2012
30. Promises 8/17/2012
31. Call Time 8/20/2012
32. School Pick Up Haiku 10/9/2012
33. For The Sake Of The Fairies 4/16/2013
34. Pop Fairy 4/16/2013
35. Shy 4/20/2013
36. A Writers' Zen 4/20/2013
37. Lake Swimming 2/21/2013
38. A To Z Of A Body Completing Demanding Exercise. 11/18/2012
39. Sides, Edges And Vertices Edited 11/17/2012
40. Sycamore Seed 9/10/2012
Best Poem of Stevie Taite

A Lesson On Poetry From My Five Year Old

I sat in bed one morning
With a note pad on my knee
When in wondered my Charlie
And he snuggled up to me

He said, 'You writing poems?
We are learning that at school
I know a lot about them'
I said, 'Really mate, how cool'

He stared at me intently
As he stretched out on the bed
His legs crossed at the ankle
And a hand propped up his head

After I had sorted through
And read back what I'd penned
He slid off of the bed
And peered up at me from the end

He stayed there quite transfixed
It kinda put me off my flow
I looked over...

Read the full of A Lesson On Poetry From My Five Year Old

Friday Night

To this point in time the ride had been rough
But the demand on posture to counter the motion would be forgotten
As  impatience fermented  foretaste

We took the detour,  
Passed crisp, transparent slopes
Where mostly water fell into man made lakes
And the now distant mountains, with their treacherous descent  would become
Embellished with a layer of illusory snow

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