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Best Poems Written by Stephen Curtis

Below are the all-time best Stephen Curtis poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Stephen Curtis Poem

The Old Lady In the Shoe

There was an old lady who lived in a shoe
She was sad and poor and feeling quite blue
So many children, the count was twenty and two

The cupboards were empty, they were really poor
Something needed to be done, the old lady swore
A sign ‘room for rent’ she put on the door

Three little pigs came, the room to rent
One look you could see, murder her intent
Now the freezer is full, no money she spent

The story she spread, the wolf was to blame
Now the poor old wolf has unwanted fame
All due to the old lady, what a terrible shame

Details | Stephen Curtis Poem

Red Hot Loving

I saw her first in the pub
A creature so divine
I knew then straight away
Somehow she was going to be mine

I waltzed up so suave and cool
Said “good day luv,” and I was blushing
She looked at me like I was a bug
Just waiting for the crushing

But then she spied
What was in my hand
A whole roll of fifties
Suddenly her smile did expand

Took my hand said, “come with me,”
To her place we'll be going
Walked in the door
My passion was rapidly growing

Holy hells bells, once we got in
The clothes off me she was tearing
Finally my luck had changed
At one hot body I was staring

Her fingers she snapped, “money thanks”
Handed it over quick, I’ll be admitting
Didn’t care, just wanted her
Today some lovin' I'll be getting

So into bed, man she's hot
Oh man now I'm drooling
Huge breasts with puffy nipples
I’m ready for some serious fooling

My hand slid down
To silky soft thighs
And found the unexpected
My objective I had to revise

I'm out of bed
And dressed so quick
Running out at full speed
The chick had a dick

And what made it worse
She had one bigger than I did

Details | Stephen Curtis Poem

Death In a Coal Mine - Child Miners

Into the bowels of the earth we descend
Down into the pit of hell
Crawling on hands and knees to mine
This precious fuel they call coal

Now Petey and I we are almost men
He is ten and I'm eleven
Been working here, down this mine
These last two years and month now

Mum is counting on us as men
Since Dad died from consumption
Coughed every night, spat out blood
Now gone to be with Jesus

The work is hard, it's hot down here
To work by flickering candlelight
The dust so thick, you always taste it
It makes you cough and splutter

We've almost reached the coal face
When I can hear some rumbling
I turned my head to speak to Petey
When the world collapsed around me

I don't know how long I lay there
When sense returned to me
By the flickering light I could see
The roof caved in behind me

Now I don't know if Petey was safe
Or if Petey was buried under
But what I knew and the news was bad
This was a miner's worst nightmare

Not a breeze came through, no fresh air
The tunnel tightly sealed
I think I knew deep in my heart
My bones would find rest here

Time passed, don't know how long
The candle burned away
The last light my eyes did see
Then blackness all around

I had seen night and I'd seen black
But never before black like this
The silence too was deafening
A tear squeezed from my eye

I cannot cry, I am a man
But the tears slid down my cheeks
I told myself for Mum I cried
What will become of her

The air so stale, tis hard to breathe
My eyelids heavy, drooping
Slowly I drift off to sleep
Tomorrow I'll awake in heaven



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About this poem:
Sadly children as young as five were sent down into the mines and should there be a cave in it was more economical to leave them there and keep mining in a different direction. Thousands of children perished working in mines.
.

Details | Stephen Curtis Poem

The Three Little Pigs - a New Story

Now here's a tale that needs to be told
Of three little pigs so very different
Their names were Ernest, Roger and Winky
These names by their parents were given

Now I could say these pigs were not so nice
At times they were rightly a pain in the ass
Their parents had given up all hope
Of taming those three terrible pigs

All Ernest wanted was to watch TV
All day and night cartoons he'd see
Should anything happen he'd scream and cry
And run berserk throughout the house

Now Roger was different from other two
He was dirty and messy and stank a treat
His nose was runny and boogers on clothes
And socks not parted from feet for years

Winky you'd think sounds rather nice
But of all of them he was the worst
His toys he'd throw all over the house
And toilet seat he'd firmly leave down

Now mother pig when nature called
Her bottom she did plant
A mighty scream, a yell so loud
'Yuck!! my bottom is now all sticky

Those dirty little pigs,' she yelled
'They piddled all over the seat again
This is so bad, I'm sick of it
Please we need to find an answer'

They pondered to, they pondered fro
You could almost hear them thinking
Hope was almost given up
When the answer suddenly struck them

Away from home they would move
Across the road to his mother
There the pigs would never look
To cross the street was not allowed them

On his way coming home
A trailer papa pig rented
To load all things from in house
Across the street to be moving

The beds, the lounge, all dining room
And even the TV was loaded
Not a thing was left behind
Except three cups, plates and spoons

Off they set across the road
A new life for them awaited
Left behind all sorrows and woes
Three little pigs now on their own

Home they came from school all bright
Ready for some mischief
When shock, horror, oh my gosh
They found the house quite empty

Ernest went to sit down
No lounge to rest his body
Worse things were yet to come
No cartoons and no TV to watch them

Winky walked round and round
No toys to be found here
How could he throw them round the house
If there were no toys to be found there

Roger didn't really care
His stink was always with him
The only thing that upset him
No toilet seat to pee on

Just then a mighty bang on the door
The pigs jumped and squealed with fright
'Who's there?' they cried so timidly
'Tis Wolfred your friendly salesman'

'Open the door and let me in
I'll show you wonders and excitement'
'Do you have a TV with cartoons on it?'
Yelled the pig called Ernest

'The things I have you'll surely like
So let me in you pigs so tasty'
'No! no,' they cried in unison
'Not by the hair on our chinny, chin, chin'

This made the saleswolf mighty mad
He raved, ranted and shouted
'You wait pigs till I get in
A fine dinner you'll be making'

He pounded and pounded on the door
So hard they could hear it cracking
Suddenly it broke right in
There was a wolf of immense proportions

Now Ernest being ever so dumb
Asked 'have you got a TV?'
Wolf picked him up, one mighty gulp
And Ernest was gone forever

Now Winky knew trouble was here
Was looking for some place for hiding
The wolf just laughed as he picked him up
And ate this tasty morsel

Roger was thinking mighty quick
He was too young to be dinner
A sock parted from his foot
One deft move, in wolf's mouth shoved it

The wolf coughed, chocked and spluttered
Both little pigs were spat out
One last gasp and twitch of limbs
The wolf had met his maker

There is a moral to this tale
Or so I've been told
To softly always walk in life
And a BIG stink to be carrying

Details | Stephen Curtis Poem

Modern Romance

“Darling Dear,” she said to me with a look so dire and sombre.
“There is something I must confess before another year passes.”
Now I prepared to hear the worst, infidelity and such like.
Never once did I suspect of what was to follow.
“Darling Dear, all these years I told you I was infertile.”
I nodded, wondering what was to come, so I said, “please continue.”
“The truth I stretched a little bit, hell, maybe even broke it.
You see, I already have two daughters and a son, but the thing is,
they call me Dad, not Mum.”
Now that rocked me back and forth and left me somewhat confused.
Does that mean that she was he, back before I met her?
“Please speak to me,” she begged with a tear on her cheek.
But I couldn’t help myself, this was just too funny. Suddenly it
all burst out, I rolled on the floor laughing. Took a while for me to
stop so that I could answer.
“I too have children, two darling sons, and they both call me Mum.
A woman I was a long time ago, but now I am a man.”
That was many years ago and we are still together. You could
call this a modern romance.







Author notes


I can't say that I know anybody that has this a confused relationship but having said that I do know one couple where she used to be a he and they have been together over twenty years and he still does not know the truth

Details | Stephen Curtis Poem

Poetnumber1 Or the Baked Bean Competition

Now I don't know if you've heard
Of the Baked Bean competition
Where contestants eat as much as can
In just twenty five minutes

Up they lined ready to start
To gobble up these dishes
Standing by were huge black pots
Ready to refill empty dishes

There was Kieren the Fat
A man of gargantous girth
One would think he could eat a horse
For dessert polish off a camel

Then Lucy who rolled into her place
As wide as she was tall
Rumours said she ate her kids
When out of food she ran

Andre the Giant, a pig of a man
Stood all of seven foot six
His pants held up by shiny black belt
With his flab hanging over that

Next was Amelia, we all know her
Shape as dainty as a brood sow
Eats and eats and never full
She'll be one hell of a contender

Last of all, a ringer you might say
A skinny runt of a man
Who was this one trying to fool
The one called Poetnumber1

The bowls were filled, ready to go
As soon as signal given
One last look up and down the line
And the starter pistol was fired

Kieren the Fat wasted no time
Sucked down bowl after bowl
And keeping pace one for one
Was Lucy next to him

Andre the Giant he too kept pace
Matched them bowl for bowl
But blow me down, an early lead
Amelia was ahead by one

But what is this, My eyes don't believe
This Poetnumber1
Bowl after bowl goes down his throat
He's leading by a mile

Kieren the Fat is slowing down
And so is Lucy too
I think they called an end to them
They managed to reach fifty two

Andre the Giant he had enough
His score was sixty one
Amelia still going strong
But Poetnumber1's out front

At eighty eight Amelia stopped
Gave one look and dropped
Probably lay there for a week or two
Before she'll finally wake

But Poetnumber1 is still going strong
He's reached one hundred and three
The bell was rung, winner declared
It was Poetnumber1

A sudden hush fell over crowd
As gurgling sounds were heard
A pained look on Poetnumber1's face
And then the world exploded

The smell so bad as you can imagine
People screaming in fear
And in the middle, with smile on face
Stood Poetnumber1

I must admit, he was very polite
He did say 'Pardon me'
But by this time most had fainted
Or screaming ran away

Details | Stephen Curtis Poem

One Fair Knight Long Ago

Back in history, in days of old
Twas then that knights were very bold
And the ladies were covered in gold

It was in that time there lived a bold knight
Who would satisfy the ladies at night
And with gold they would see him right

There was a fair maiden, Lucy-Mae
Who could not keep a secret, try as she may
And her husband found out she’d been led astray

He swore revenge, the knight must die
At night an ambush he would try
And the knight surely in hell would fry

It was just after the setting of the sun
The knight did come on the run
So eager was he to begin his fun

Around the corner, unaware was he
Waited magical sword called Thantee
The aim was low, well above the knee

The sword did his manhood sever
Gone was it, no more to use, never ever
Became a member of court, eunuch forever

Now there’s a moral, a tale to be told
Keep your pants zippered, don’t be too bold
And you’ll be intact until your old

Details | Stephen Curtis Poem

Clip, Clop

I sit and watch it all
On the sheltered side
Fungus grows on the trees
Where the sun don't shine
From deep in the woods
So fast for to get back home
The horse did trot
Clip, clop, clip, clop
The horse did trot
So fast for to get back home
From deep in the woods
Where the sun don't shine
Fungus grows on trees
On the sheltered side
I sit and watch it all

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Details | Stephen Curtis Poem

Dream Out of Africa

Inside the zareba I live in a hovel
To say live is being generous, barely surviving
On a day like today, well like most days 
A cool cave would be a pleasant alternative

I dream of a better life, one without this sorrow
I do not want a huge monolith to live in
Something small and comfortable with nearby water
Thoughts like this are just dreams, not reality

A few sleeps ago we had these fancy women come
They hugged our children and gave them ‘Bounty Bars’
Was my disgust of them so transparent?
They think they are so admirable, have photos taken with us

Then they move on, have their conscience been salved?
They go back to their grand life and leave us here
Nothing changes, we are left with our sad dreams
Maybe one day in our grandchildren’s time, maybe



15-02-2014

Details | Stephen Curtis Poem

P H S - Waiting On the Moon

I suffer from P H S
A disease most debilitating
My friends and family me they shun
Their embarrassment never ending

Gather round come supper time
I'm left in the corner sulking
"It's not my fault," I try to say
But no-one wants to listen

I dread the time when full moon comes
I lose control of all my senses
Quickly comes upon me the change
No time for tears to be shedding

My body shakes, twists and turns
I turn into this horrid creature
I try to speak but all they hear
Are these sounds I make all garbled

Why is this curse upon me placed
To this I have no answer
While full moon holds sway in the sky
To this monster I keep changing

My beautiful fur has dropped, is gone
Left exposed with pink skin showing
Forced to walk on my hind legs
This feels so terribly unnatural

Oh what I'd give to be cured of this
And no more to be changing
Running free with my pack
And not change into a human

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