John Tucker is the Dr Seuss of poetry.
His charming personality and sense of humor shine throughout every poem he writes.
Every single piece is flawless and perfectly balanced between his humoristic playfulness and his Dr Seuss for adults rhyming.
His words are also filled with wisdom and tenderness, bringing a soothing feeling to everyone’s hearts as they read along.
John has a very special gift, not only is he a remarkable writer, he’s also been interested in the spiritual world and the mysteriousness of the unseen from a very young age, giving him a unique touch when it comes to understanding and guiding others.
The world needs more writers like John, who bring beauty, smiles, and depth to a much needed audience.
He is definitely a “Century Writer”, one who will be remember eternally.
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Name: John Tucker
Location: Bracknell, Berkshire UK
Q: How many hours a day do you write?
A: Spend more time thinking than writing. The writing is the easy bit – thinking of what to write is what takes the time.
Q: How do you deal with personal doubters?
A: II don’t it is what I believe that matters – they are entitled to their opinions.
Q: When you were growing up, what made you want to become a writer?
A:I didn’t I was more interested in myself and football.
Q: Describe a perfect setting where you can get writing done.
A: Anytime and anywhere!
Q: What kind of books did you read when you were growing up, if any?
A: Very few mostly liked those in school curriculum – but always loved poetic expression especially funny, inspirational and nature genres.
Q: Are you a traditional type of writer (paper and pencil) or do you use your computer to write?
A: Both whichever is more convenient at the time.
Q: What’s you’re favorite part of writing?
A: The feeling I get when I believe I have written a poem that is really good in my opinion – gives me a glow and if it is a funny one cheers me up and I read it and laugh at it myself.
Q: How do you get past all the frustrations that come with trying to be a successful writer?
A: Given up on that long ago – as long as I can amuse, inspire or affect another through my poetry I am fulfilled and successful.
Q: What do you do when you have several book/piece ideas?
A: I often have several ideas and when the time is right out pops the poem.
Q: Do you have an agent representing you/your work to publishers?
A: Have been trying to interest you for that position Debbie – unfortunately to date without success lol
Q: Have you ever been published/self-published? (list published works and/or experiences – Optional)
A: No have not really felt that is so important as the pure fun of writing and entertaining my friends – such as yourself and Dina!
Q: What genre(s) describes your work?
A: Short poems are my forte on whatever subject takes my fancy – although I have written a few short stories and I do mean short – no patience for long-term writing projects.
Q: Do you write under a pseudonym? If so, what is the story behind it?
A: Never
Q: What/who motivates you to write?
A: Just me because I enjoy it when I am in the mood the words just flow!
Q: Do you have your work showcased on any website?
A: WEbook site where I have two main projects ‘Poetry that all can Understand’ and ‘Poetry in my Soul’
Q: Share with us a fun fact about yourself.
A: I will be 70yrs old in about 20 months time and I am mentally only about 30yrs and still as flirtatious as ever haha! – What are you doing next week-end Debbie lol xx
Q: What does the future hold for you as a writer?
A: When you become my agent Debbie maybe a rosy one! Either way I will be contented with the pleasure I get from it!
Below you can enjoy a few selected pieces by this writer.
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Shattered Dreams
The weeping willow
- can’t compete
With tears
- abandoned lovers weep!
Waterfalls
- constantly flow
From liquid eyes
- of reddish glow!
As shattered dreams
- now replete
Lie crushed and scattered at their feet.
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A Bit of Nonsense
I cried myself to sleep last night.
Then slept the whole day through.
But what was really very odd.
My eyes were open too!
I laughed all day – which was so sad.
As tears obscured my view!
You said that – my shirt so pink.
Had turned the washing blue!
You said I was just colour blind.
That it was plain to see.
That pink was blue.
And blue was pink.
I had to disagree!
If you’re still reading what I write.
Don’t understand a word?
I’m not really surprised by that.
Because it’s so absurd!
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The Ice Maiden
She sits
- untouched -
Amidst the pyres
Of unconsummated male desires.
Her perfect lips
- cold and unkissed -
Disappoint anticipated bliss.
No lethal weapon will suffice.
All phallic symbols turned to ice.
Yet, all around,
Sad men abound.
Each condemned to spend his days
- Unfulfilled -
Beneath her gaze !
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Sweet thoughts of You!
The thoughts of a young man, left with their only daughter, when his beloved wife
dies at an early age!
Sweet thoughts of you – that filter through.
Fill my heart with joy!
And help me do the things I do,
Today and every day!
I have not lost the love we knew,
For you are everywhere.
Sharing my life – just the same,
Exactly like before!
And as I watch our little girl,
Playing happily in the sand.
I smile and await the joyful day;
When I can once more, hold your hand…..
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Ivors Revenge
Ivor Been Gobbled was a Turkey
Who decided to complain.
But all the other Turkeys
Thought he was a bit insane!
They gathered round to laugh at him
Joined by the ‘Cheshire Cat’
Who’d now left ‘Alice in Wonderland’
And got his body back!
But Ivor was determined.
His treatment to avenge.
He hired himself a lawyer.
To help get his revenge!
“I want them charged with murder.
And in the first degree.
I want them hanged until they’re dead.
And thrown into the sea.”
The judge was a wise old owl.
But to Ivors’ detriment.
The other side took advantage.
‘Cos they knew that he was bent!
The verdict went against him.
Sentenced to hang on xmas eve.
And he was told – “Don’t Bother”
To try for a reprieve.
On xmas day the wise old owl.
And all his legal fakes.
Dined on Ivors’ sad remains.
Tucked into ‘Turkey Steaks’.
But Ivor wasn’t finished yet.
He was a clever fella. (for a Turkey)
At last he got his sweet revenge.
He gave them – ‘Salmonella’.
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Leaf Dance
As I walked out,
One Autumn day.
An impish breeze, came out to play !
Aimlessly, he blew around,
Then spotted dead leaves, on the ground.
“Ha Ha” said he,
Here’s my chance.
To have some fun,
And make them dance !
But first of all,
I will ‘Inhale’.
And turn myself into a ‘Gale’.
As the wind began to bustle,
Frightened leaves began to rustle.
Hop about and start to quiver.
Some of them began to shiver !
Scattering, to frolic, prance,
Pirouette, and forced to ‘Dance’.
Carried up toward the sky,
To twist and twirl, spin and fly.
’til out of breath,
The wind dies down.
And leaves float gently, to the ground.
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Click here to watch John’s amazing spoken-word videos on YouTube.
Click here to read more from John’s work.
