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Best Poems Written by Peter Kiggin

Below are the all-time best Peter Kiggin poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Junior School

Junior school

Years gone by and we are all still fools 
For the silly things we laughed at school
Farting and burping and breaking the rules
Making large bubble gum circles whilst swimming in the local pool
Playing tennis in the summer because Wimbledon was cool
Weekends on muddy pitches pitting your wits to tackle and duel 
Flirting glances at girls although not knowing how it was cruel
Teachers bursting veins in their heads shouting to try and teach monkeys who scratch their arses and play E.T with their cagoules 
Making grass bunkers in the summer with mates and a girl would show you her white knickers for some toffees and a daisy chain to amaze at and to drool 
Remembering the children’s faces and the world we left behind to know that we had better times when we were all still fools.

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Consumer Act

Consumer act


Consumers consuming and submerging till they are consumed and spat out when they die
Isn’t it funny to think consumerism is all about tomorrow and when and why?
Consuming effort to think what people want is the defining point of an era of buy by buy
Immersed in a struggle to want only the best of things until you realise what crap is on a skip near by
Do we really need all of this in our lives or are we a bunch of wankers wanking to get high
I think of the globe as one big shopping mall and in some countries they have precious things on their shelves to sell as they’re not shy
A lot of countries have realised that being friends with the bigger boys’ means that they can borrow these things for a while but the cost will cripple them then they will cry
Never mind little country I’m sure someone will help you if your people start to starve or begin to realise their government was a big fat lie
Keep on consuming that’s what I say because one day the Earth will ask for its goods back or we will all go to heaven as long as you haven’t consumed anything you shouldn’t or to hell with you which is a bit like living in Dubai.

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Pathfinder

Pathfinder

I am the pathfinder who writes the right way
Through jungles and deserts a path I find without delay
To see amazing parts of the world that is hidden without my say
I write what is to be given to see by eyes only ready to obey
With wonderment and knowledge of what is and is not today
A wordsmith from the ancient world of words that lead us to play
Imagination is endless with words familiar and unacquainted to relay
The red witch and her white dragon fly through the night recited this day
Whether or not they are here in black and white and red of course displays
Magical illusions are the perfect green garden with no rules just swish and sway 
We do however seem to write laws that are not permissive to make the earth so grey
I do believe the world is for children to endeavour and listening to grownups is sometimes confusing and completely puts me in disarray.

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Blue Bike ,Northern Dialect

Blue bike(Northern dialectably)

A bicycle that’s new was blue and swankity it had 52 spokes all chromed and 
silver fancery
That bike was mine
I rode up hills to see the countery and down dales to go fast and rode it chancery
That bike was mine
I popped a tyre down near ta factory and I took it home to tell ta family we got 
out spoons and inspected ta mattery then I put a plaster were the puncture 
bubbled watery
That bike was mine
It had 10 gears which were satisfactory five were hard and the others sappery 
but it got me going were I want ta be 
That bike was mine
Soon I was looking for a new bike practically with ten more gears and a name that 
suited me but I’ll never forget that blue bike frankily
Because that bike was mine

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A Rare Bird

A rare bird. 




A rare bird is he with feathers illuminous red and green; 

a bird that only few will ever see and perhaps twas meant to have been. 

This bird flies free over mountains and through the mind of a dream; 

escaping all barriers and leaving only temperance in mean. 

A breeze will lift him to the highest contemplation of being; 

and the rain will make him cry for this means a heart is bleeding. 

The whistle of this bird when heard flows gently and transcends feelings; 

he sits on your shoulder sometimes just to see what books you are reading. 

Don't be mistaken in thinking you'll ever actually be able to see him; 

first you must close your eyes and let yourself believe anything.

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Mind Travel

Mind travel

Are you willing to travel further than the end of your seat?
Then let us begin our journey into the unknown parts of your mind that words 
can repeat
I give to you a pebble to make it real for when you wake it will be in your hand 
to make this journey complete
You are on a hillside in a place where you have never been before but familiarity 
is in the mind to meet
You see long flowing grass and butterflies of all colours reflecting a rainbow in 
your blue eyes and a field of strawberries you can eat
Realise that this place is for you and forever you can come here to walk 
peacefully without the worries of normality of dullness and defeat
A windmill so large its sails are as big as a street
A robin red breast sits on your shoulder while you eat bread together on a 
bench whilst watching a monkey play the drums to a beat
Subtle colours become so bright your eyes are compelled to take them in as if 
to first greet
Is this the real life I want instead of living in a dimension meant for scholars 
who happily walk a road made of tar and concrete? 
I can walk on rubber sausages in my slippers over mountains and collect some 
bananas from South America and go to the corner shop for some custard and 
sweets
I have shown you the door now all you need to do is relax on a white billowy 
cloud and rest your feet
Look and open your hand and you can still see the pebble but you must believe 
in your mind what is right and always listen to your heart because your soul is 
flying fleet

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A Cultural Cup of Tea

A cultural cup of tea


Coffee isn’t my bean but give me tea leaves
A cup of cha do la not cocoa ta no ta
Brew me up chuck no Italian espresso like muck
Caffeine in the shape of a tea bag in a mug glug slug glug
Two sugars please love as I wink to see her breast in the gaze of my eyes pleased
No Darjeeling just plain old tea with a tea spoon and a bag to strenuously squeeze
A British moment of the day that almost everyone lifts their cup and elbows to the skies
I am an English man and I will have a decent cup of tea because it is in my cultural rites

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Things That Annoy Me

plagiarism everywhere around I seek; 

regurgitating like plasticene mince meat; 

out dated ideas repackaged to repeat; 

do people realise or is it some kind of conspiracy leak. 


something to treasure a flat pack pine look wardrobe half price get one buy one free closing down sale treat; 

why not buy a pack of twenty four toilet rolls to wipe your arse with because you know every sheet was a little bit more cheap; 

two weeks later you're at the doctors telling him of the sores on your arse that itch and you think it might be some sort of allergic reaction to the sausages you eat. 


I really need this new toothpaste that is tested by scientists in space to make your teeth shine brighter than your cxxk would if you rubbed it all over in deep heat; 

"Mmmmm" says a seventy year old granny with a little beard growing on her chin;"this is that cream off that commercial that says it will reduce signs of aging within three weeks"; 

then her daughter who is about fifty says" yes and it says you can also use it as a all in one paint stripper and removes all blockages from your waste drain pipe that goes out into the street".

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Crazy People Are Life's Brilliant Colours

Crazy people are life’s brilliant colours
A Street can look so dull but to a crazy person a parade of dancing fairies appear as the floor catches the rain
A fence post can look ordinary but to a crazy person the scratches in the wood would unveil a renascence picture to the brain
A wardrobe is just a piece of furniture but to a crazy person it’s a place to hide from the fumbling green giant when he goes insane
A quiet room is something familiar but to a crazy person it’s somewhere the voices in his head can tell him to do things he shouldn’t again
A piece of music is common place but in the mind of a crazy person the wonderful memory of a young lover that he still in his heart retained
A conversation can be uncomplicated until the crazy man comes in on a complete tangent and starts talking about how the trees tell him of the midnight crocodile train
A man walking towards you seems unthreatening but watch the crazy man believe that he is chasing him with a big bread knife yet thinks he is sane
A window scene seems incredibly dull yet the crazy man watches every movement in the window to make sure he is alone and not liable to meet the devil at the window pane
A word like crazy can seem normal to say yet every time I see it the crazy man always and forever will be in unequivocal pain.

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Monkey Man Reply

Hi Tonja Gasperlin, I couldn't reach you any other way so I wanted you to know you have my blessing to use whatever you like to write your project , in fact I would consider it a pleasure.