Steve Tasane

Biography

Master of mind-boggling, tongue-twisting poetry, Steve was an Associate Artist for Live Literature Consortium 2010, during which he continued his exploration of sonic and cinematic poetry, an example of which can be viewed on YouTube here: Appearing at festivals ranging from Glastonbury to Cheltenham and venues ranging from Battersea Dogs' Home to the Museum of Childhood, he is an advocate of popular poetry. His website www.stevetasane.com features samples of his recordings, page poems and films. His published work is available in Poetry Store (Hodder Books), Poets For Oxfam (CD), This Poem Is Sponsored by (Corporate watch), Dance the Guns to Silence (Flipped Eye), Oral (Sceptre), On Good Form and Velocity (both Apples & Snakes)

Samples

Human Touch With eyes open wide we view a brand new day where the bright blue sky is not screened on Blu-ray, the sun still sets without special FX, and life is 3D without the stupid specs. Our smiles invite an instant reply with double-quick clicks, from lips to the eye. So smash the Office Windows, leap into the sun - don’t need no mouse for cats to have fun. Life’s electric if we pull the plug, unhook ourselves, and dare to hug. We can’t email a hug, a hug speaks true. The human touch will always come through. How many friends do we have on account? The ones we count on are the real amount. A blog won’t give us a shoulder to cry on. A chat room’s got no spare bed to lie on. Real friends aren’t airbrushed, real friends are spotty, with receding hair, or a saggy botty. From the none-too-clever to the overexcited: Friends Forever! Not Reunited. So let’s break bread and lick our lips; we can’t chew the fat with microchips. We can’t email a hug, a hug speaks true. The human touch is emotional glue Tried to buy you a gift from a real life shop but, paying by card, I was caught on the hop by your playful face and your gorgeous grin; I remember your smile, but forgot my pin. Those delicious lips with a widescreen beam, not saved on my phone to prove it’s no dream, ‘cos face-to-face when we’re home alone beats a one inch picture on a mobile phone. Don’t come back to MySpace to be cyber-sexed - let’s not play tonsil tennis by text. We can’t email a hug, a hug speaks true. The human touch is the new taboo. An emoticon is a con alright. A supersmile beats a megabite. From the lungs to the tongue, we’ve got more clout. Mouth-to-mouth is what a gig’s about, be it slam, a jam, or crammed in a cellar, with trumpets and drums, or just a cappella. Busking for change is the funkiest cash job. Stage invasion is the brightest flash mob; squashed in a mosh pit, soaked to the bone, not listening to a tinny little, tinny little ringtone. We can’t email a hug, a hug speaks true. The human touch gets a five star review. There’s less to CGI than meets the eye. It’ll give us what we like, so long as it’s a lie. Not even the virtuous are left in the lurch - we can search online for a virtual church. Though we won’t find faith, or even hope, on eBay we can buy a blow-up Pope. So let’s surf life, with its flow and its ebb. Sunlight won’t catch on a World Wide Web. It’s our beating hearts that make us tick. We can’t save our memories on a memory stick. We can’t email a hug, a hug speaks true. The human touch connects me and you.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.