COMEDY

A song written for my God-son Todd who aged five wanted a tune about a flea .

A short piece I wrote to celebrate the 50th birthday of Nick Fisher a dear friend of mine, I've narrated it in a thick Yorkshire accent due to his Dewsbury routes.

A song for a love honey we called Ann Summers due to her working there, she asked me for a birthday card poem and caused me a writer's block which when I tried to explain she cursed me a look of pure disdain , so I wrote this along the lines of a frigid flustering fool that she'd doubtless be serving at the Ann summers shop. Katie looks at all men with indifference and always takes fun from them , Bravo darling it's all we deserve.

 THE MORTAL MACHINE Poetry |Steven Richardson 00:0401:52 Next|About A poem written for my father who was born in 1926 and now similar to an old model T ford he needs constant tinkering and maintenance to keep him running also I've done my best to copy his gasping Yorkshire speech ; born in the days of the horse and cart he started work at the age of twelve down in the mills on the east side of a steel river , he mentioned that not only were the steel dreys pulled by the huge shire horses but during the second world war they also used the might of the elephants borrowed from a nearby zoo due to the lack of trucks and the rationing of fuel , he told me for a boy of twelve it was a terrifying experience walking past these huge rumbling beasts that were stabled under the railway arches so that each time a train grumbled over the viaduct the massive mammals would bellow out their destress.

A musing about the private member's bills passed with rousing British Parliamentary pomposity it sounds as if they're committing a serious aural atrocity but it's usually being diatribed by someone whos spieling loudly through their own suppository . --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/steven-richardson5/message

Humorous little sketch I wrote for Jeanine who was going to see strictly come dancing live in Leeds I wrote the sketch after listening to two old men complaining about the aches and pains in witherspoons Darlington it's narrated in their yorkshire accents, the photo is from strictly come dancing the same night in Leeds sent by JEANINE .

All Medieval religions outlawed usury as a sin, profit of any kind wasn't allowed it still stands as a judgement against you today the road to PERDITION is going to be litered with alot of the  righteous as well as the devil's detritus .

A poem about my father's time aboard a super cruise liner where all the old badgers caught a virus very similar to Covid and almost died .

Living our lives as nocturnal belfry bats fuelled by booze and nose gay narcotics we'd flutter back at dawn after sharing shrink spiel and serotonin Smarties at all the high octane piss and powder parties in H-gate is there any wonder that we all became neurotic suffering from nervous breakdowns and depression the Spanish au pairs around at that time always sounded and sang similar to Carmen Miaranda rolling their R's like a pair of castanets . All rights reserved

A musing written for lily age 9 and her cat Sean who's got terribly fat due to been neutered, he's put on a lot of weight I've narrated it in a yorkshire accent due to Sean being born and raised in Harrogate .

Another crazy  sketch about the life of Thornton Harding the junior an aristocrat who's mad about his pets , he calls them by the strangest names, such as his dog ,Warrington greyfriars Benson who i might add is allowed to do anything even drive his car .

Looking at some tramps in cider park I felt so sorry for them but more so for their poor starving pets as their masters swill down cider and the pets shivered in the cold. The musing is seen and spoken through the dogs perspective .

This is a musing I wrote after listening to my father who'd been conscripted into the British army during the second world war, you can quite easily see why by year twenty three most members of the military have gone completely mad with OCD, its perhaps due to the cour d'esprit of the British army ,which has a relentless marching rhythm beating to the sweet spot tempo of 120 , from day one your heart soul body and mind are recalibrated and realined to the measured metronome of the military kind, in order for you to keep in perfect tune whilst playing together in the theatre of war with the other synchronised members of your military core.

A musing for a wonderful women we called Ann Summers due to her working there, she asked for a birthday card poem and caused me a writer's block which when I tried to explain she cursed me a look of pure disdain , so I wrote it along the lines of if I'd bumped into her serving at the Ann summers shop. Katie looks at all men with indifference and always takes fun from them I say Bravo Darling it's all we do so deserve . Art work by Steven Richardson.

Sooner than later we as a species will have to address our crazy situation of over population , due to land perishing and pollution in the final stages we may very well end up as refugees building our own blood lined barricades of revolution .

A poem about falling into destitution especially ex soldiers and sailors who you find in the beggars brigade of most British towns, how easy to forget these courageous service personnel who once protected us .

The old post office Harrogate is located about a century behind Greenwich mean time, the pensioners there are disciplinarians by design if you slip out of sync or cross the red line then these old soldiers would quickly bark you back into the align.

Living as an artist's muse you can understand the expression of The Doom in the room what artist's don't realise is that there ego's can be so burdensome to everyone else and probably has to be in order for them to achieve , this is usually why their muse's are usually so miserable. Whilst living with an artist as a muse I was painted with my own blood she thought it to be a wonderful contrast of colour red onto the stark white canvas my Anglo-Saxon skin reminiscent of the old English flag .

The English aristocrats are completely crazy. One used to ride around his country estate on a giraffe-drawn dray and kept giant tortoises. He kept every type of animal in his house. This is a funny sketch about Thornton Harding the junior and his obsession with exotic pets. He's building kangaroo net ball team.

A short minute musing about how if you infect a friend's computer with a virus they treat it as if you have infected them with the clap .

A musing about the Boer war whilst tens of thousands were dying of desease and starvation due to lord Kitchener's scorched earth policy he himself was heartbroken about losing his pet starling thank heavens he's not here sorting out the coronavirus .

The birds and bees are leaving their flowers and trees to join in order to join us us in lapping up our left overs, they'll hardly be floaty lite on the breeze after eating our fast food of  sleaze .

Buying power tools at the hardware store and then attempting some DIY, you may as well arm yourself with a weapon of war and become yet another casualty score around the world. The body counts are much higher than in most modern theaters of war.

A short sketch about a friend who was always in the dry out clinic or a shrink clink where he would telephone and try to explain what his psychiatrist was doing , exasperatedly he would shout back that it was nothing to do with the drink !!. "Belfry" was the name for his depression a pet black bat .

Living as belfry bats fuelled by booze and nose gay narcotics we shared shrink spiel and serotonin Smarties , arriving at all the piss, powder, and perfume parties: we'd flutter feebly back at the light of dawn .

This is a poem i wrote about the catastrophic creations cause through having too much cosmetic surgery leaving so many a patient in the perpetual state of a reconstructive purgatory the surgeons are called the picasso's of the plastique, well they certainly end up with a foot an mouth or a tongue-in-cheek , they sculpture and scalpel at something that once started out as the face of the fantastic but by the final phase come cut you're left with a gargoyled freak.

Growing up in a witches coven with all of them casting spells over everything and everyone I couldn't understand the horoscope stars then or now  , they  were always fighting for the Sorceresse's supremacy Mystic Meg was of their best loved astro-donnas.

A short poem for Todd's forth birthday his name means the fox although the only thing I've seen him foraging for are chocolate lollipop from the icebox .

A short sketch about a Christmas bash with the old deaf relatives, cooking programs, and war movies on alternative TV stations, with their daughter trying to talk in between both of them without success.

A poem I wrote for my father who was born in 1926 and now similar to an old model T ford motor car needs constant tinkering and maintenance to keep him running . I've done my best to copy his gasping Yorkshire speech ,he was born in the days of the horse and cart starting work at the age of twelve down in the mills on the east side of steel river , he mentioned that not only were the steel dreys pulled by the huge shire horses but during the second world they also used the might of elephants due to the lack of trucks and the rationing of fuel , for a boy of twelve it was a terrifying experience walking past these huge rumbling beasts that were stabled under the railway arches , each time a train grumbled over the viaduct these massive mammals would bellow out their deafening roars.

A musing about our Star Trek scientists who make it sound like our intergalactic fate is just a walk through a subway station into some subatomic particle Stargate .

Greta has an almost impossible sales pitch she's to demand that the incredibly rich dumped that expensive pieces of kitsch , they fly to the cop out climate meetings in their lear jets and show not the slightest hesitation of any regrets, her gargantuan glitch is to try to move these people towards the green dream of a beggars itch, but these dinosaurs who block destiny's drawbridge are mega rich and have no intention of surrendering any of their Kardashian kitsch. To quote Churchill sardonically, , "Never was so much owed by so many to so few".

I have been scratching scribe to script and burning tallow onto table in order to bring you a fabulously free A to Z of poetry.