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Best Poems Written by Stephen Harper

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

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Just Too Easy

Chance seeing that shooting star, death by brilliant light.
Interpreting dreams, from the day or the night.
Chasing rainbows, it’s treasure foretold.
Facing the mirror, lines drawn, time is so cruel, just getting old.
A wish from adolescence, so fleeting, soon gone,
Finding it, losing it, then, the will to go on.
Fish in the ocean, songs soulful and sad.
Movie star glances, playing well written lines.
Maybe for 7 years, perhaps 10 if you are lucky.
It’s all gone so quiet, time to do it again?

Change for the better, could be sublime.
Forget the life of the past, move on in time.
Or live with the niggles, the mundane and the sour,
A fresh face, a smile, a feeling empowered.
What should you do, how will it end,
Seek advice from a stranger or support of a friend.
The truth is in there, somewhere, but it’s a gamble of trust.
Old for the new, the passion or lust
It’s a question asked over again, driving us to despair, as we
Wrestle with our head and our heart, with neither so clear.
To stay with the familiar, or infatuation so sweet.
In a throwaway society, where quality and value should last,
But a new toy is shinier than the comfort of a past.

An old barn burns the fastest; it’s always been the same,
From Maggie V and onwards, in a broken dream.
It has destroyed me, ne’er mind the cost
Of hearts sold and broken, it all falls into dust.
Water it, nurture it, see it grow and sustain,
So easy to turn it from the glow to mundane.
We are surrounded by it, with its passion and desire,
It’s too small a word, which we can always shift blame,
Yet we let it run amok with our emotions and mind.
We need to learn to be honest with it, to use other words of desire,
Fascination, drawn, enamoured, stimulated or lust
The feeling of tenderness, that electrifying touch.
A life for a life, a time for a time,
You get older, perhaps wiser; you seek solace, something quite unreal,
So why is it too easy to fall in love?

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Fuzzy Wuzzy

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a Bear,
but Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair,
so really, if Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair,
he wasn't Fuzzy woz he.

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Harry

Dirty smelly chicken toes,
Harry sticks them up his nose,
Until they are dry, he keeps them in,
then sticks them in a biscuit tin.

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Harry Edward Harper- Private 22884 - 11th May 1917

A Century have days gone by
Since you last saw the sun did rise,
Embattled weary and forlorn
Another push for King and all.

You’d seen smiles and tears
Dreamt and had wishes for all too few years
Now little you’d realise that on this day
The soul of yours be taken away.

The whistle shrill once again,
Onto a plane of mud and waste
Where for you, 
Only death would wait.

The 11th of May was your last day
Roeux seemed not that far away
Dear Harry Edward your future does recall
Your sacrifice for us, one and all.

I saluted you last night
Whilst by the flame which still glows tonight
In your memory I shed a tear
Lest we forget that you were there.

What was so Great
About that War
Which created so many sad mothers
And widows dressed in black
Who found that their own Harry’s never came back.

Details | Stephen Harper Poem

The Slimy Toad

Silently the slimy toad,
Squirmed his way down the shiny road,
And to his followers cried,
‘to Babylon where we’ll not be denied
Lilly ponds and fields of plenty,
tended over by noble Gentry
with cash and causes of great intent,
shall let us live or lives content’.

“Oh Leader! They all did cry,
What of our own pond run dry,
Shall we never taste lily pads so sweet,
which had tickled our toes and soothed our feet.
Shall we be forever lost, here on Asphalt
With lines embossed.
Where gutters are our only source
Tis’ a man-made Water Course”.

‘Be brave my tads and newts,
The warming Earth is in no dispute,
Be we small creature can survive,
Using cunning and natures drive,
To put right what has been done wrong,
By those who reap and have little respect,
nor foresight nor intellect.
We shall find a place to stay
And live to splash around another day’.

'Babylon my friends, it’s here
A great white house with trim pruned lawns and all
Obviously a place of a man of taste
A rose garden and a pond for sure
But hell, there is a wall around,
We cannot delve deeper into these hallowed grounds
So we shall perish, our plans betrayed,
As we’ll be crushed by that on-coming Motorcade'.

Details | Stephen Harper Poem

The Core

Another take-off, another landing,
Sleep can just wait.
Resting is for wimps, 
we live for the rush, which adrenalin will always bring.

Then one day, out of the blue,
It hits you – a reminder
Of who and what we really are.

You fall to the floor,
Those around you are aghast,
The Core has reminded you that,
You are not indestructible after all.

The first time it happens,
You just play through it and carry on.
The second time, you blame those around you,
for the pressure of their endless demands.

One day you stand,
On the edge of the precipice,
Looking at the scars from those late nights,
the parties, fast food and flights.

The Core has cried out,
For love, care and attention,
Act now, or waste all that you have achieved.

Nurture your Core,
Go fly a kite,
Dance with the breeze,
In harmony with Nature, to be as one.

Make it move with the trees
Swoop with the swallows
Rise up aloft, like a child set free.

Take care of your Core
Replenish it and listen
You are your Core
Your spirit, your life.

Your Core drives all that is inside you,
A gentle mother to support you,
Your heart, your empathy
and your inner most dreams.

It’s your creativity, your awareness,
Enabling you to listen, to learn 
and when is the right time to speak.

Feed it with sensations,
Like the warm sun on your face
Let it find its natural rhythm, 
Feeling the wind across your brow

Then bring it back to earth, 
Sense the sand between your toes
Let it be replenished 
with the blood rushing through your veins.

We are not invincible
We are weak cells of just flesh and blood
We are nature’s child
A simple creature amongst all.

Go fly that kite,
Embrace life and celebrate living,
But do it now, don’t wait for those warnings,
As it’s never too late to start, but the end is the end.

Details | Stephen Harper Poem

A Briney Brew

Wer curthing in a briney brew
All gurglin’ such a slimy stew
Did mousey chap a laddle tilt
And fill his fizzog til owt it spewt.

Poor butcherin was seen at fault
The growly hag had bowed it owt
All eyes and nerdles floated ins
With scum on tip and squirky things

Gungey green with pursed haze,
The taste of such ner amaze
Glopular grizzle and snotty lumps
A wicked stench like ‘is ol pumps

4 and 20 guest were due
At half past now or wer it 2
Seatles set, naplings laid
A feastling on which deposits paid.

A pinch of twist, a corbage stalk
Perhaps a teeny weeny grit of snork
Just slick it owt, wince a bit
En grab a tizzle, lest it slip.

The festers there, best be quick
Light the cammbly thing sticks, 
En turn down the sights
We’ll curse their senses, so no frights

Let’s brow out the glooping mess
With silver service, all fancifulness.
A roaring cheer a grand success
Crown im up a MasterChef.

Details | Stephen Harper Poem

Adams Hill

I’m there again, facing the steep hill in front of me
Your grass is so green, with only a few footprints from where I have trodden before.
But their route is unclear, each time a new path needs to be sought
I’m looking for a way up, to balance my thoughts.

Each time you seem steeper, or is it just that I am weary
A way to find happiness is so tinged with doubt
Walk around the hill would be easiest way to go,
Ignore the challenge and just follow the flow.

However I have found myself back at the junction
Between where I can rest or try something new
The hill lies before me, a relentless ascent
Not knowing whether once at the top it will have been time well spent.

The hill may start off grassy but soon the steeper rock face will appear
I’m not daunted by the challenge though, the journey’s not fear
I’ll talk to the hill, perhaps it will show me the way
Listening, nurturing, respecting each step I take.

I should share this journey with those whom I care
Their own journeys may end with the choices, as with each path that’s on here
At the top perhaps there is waiting a pot of gold
A treasure of fulfilment, or more tears, sorrow and doubt.

Oh my sweet soul why have you led me back here,
This damn hill has returned as that challenge that never really goes away,
Perhaps it is my life to face and accept this from above
The choice on the hill is how to face love.

Details | Stephen Harper Poem

4 Am

A mirror cracked,
a silence fell.
A heart divided,
a final death knell.

Gone
Lost in space
Emotions all spent
Such a waste

3 a.m.
still awake,
searching for fresh energy.
Accept the mistake.

4 a.m.
things are clear
Tomorrow's near dawning
the new day is here.

Details | Stephen Harper Poem

A Short Question

Joe you can be so annoying
In the line you keep repeating
I don’t know, perhaps
It’s just because

The World has its reasons
People have their habits
I don’t know, perhaps
It’s just because.

Stars glisten above us
Shooting stars flash by
I don’t know, perhaps
It’s just because

But the question you ask
Is a desire to seek a reason
It’s a blessing from which we all should learn

Let not a stone stand still
Or a word be spoken
Without the innocence, desire
And the endless question WHY?