Biography of Stevie Taite
I am just starting out. I write for me mostly (I think way too much and this serves as an outlet for my very busy mind) . It is fun to share to see if anyone gets anything from them, like a sparked memory, a giggle or some sort of connection. They are nothing amazing, compared to many on here! But I enjoy writing them and to me, that is all that should really matter. X
Stevie Taite Poems
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
The Making Of The Moon
The moon was born with Earth they say Two vortex, large and small Of gas and dusty nebula And gravitation's pull
Drunk And Disorganised
I tried to write a poem whilst drunk I thunk and I thunk which is hard when you're drunk
Showing My Bladder Who's Boss!
Oh what an annoyance It happens to be When my bladder, at night Wakes me up for a wee
Autumn 's Waking Mutants!
When Autumn knocks and hangs his leafy coat up by the door Drifting slowly in and leaving footprints on the floor He drags along behind him his dormant pathogens The central heating shakes them and their Summer slumber ends
Some poems are simplistic They don't wear cryptic lipstick They never try to force it
Mirror mirror You tell lies Who put crows feet Round my eyes?
Grandma Round For Tea
'Lets eat, grandma! 'Said the man with a grin. He squeezed her bony hand in despair 'I know what I fancy for dinner today' They peered inside, all the cupboard was bare
She Wants To Swim
She wants to swim I feel her pulling at my surface In her cage, stirring The waters lap to torment her chagrin
Your muse is a starfish in midnights' ocean She lives deep, embedded in your soul In tired agitation you tore off her arms Knowing full well that they would regrow
One Last Coffee
Meet me for this one last coffee So we can kiss our last goodbyes Sit close and be as awkward as me (one more look into your eyes)
Floccinaucinihilipilification floc-ci-nau-ci-ni-hi-li-pi-li-fi-ca-tion. (breathe) On last count it has 12 syllables, I do believe
On Your Pillow
On your pillow Indent made Shower running There I laid
Earth Without People
You wouldn't write a song and not ask a voice to share. A balloon's a useless thing if you don't fill it with air. We wouldn't make a hammer for a nail not to be hit And who would craft a chair, then allow no one to sit
Is this just 'fun' for you?
Coasting on the ride.
It's been deep here with me.
Now I'm washed up in the tide.
Crashing over rocks.
Could you not just hold my hand.