K. Morris's Blog, page 265

The Dissolute Poet

I have awoken

Following a night

Of dissolute fruit.

And spoken

Words most polite

Enquiring whether she

Prefers coffee,

Or tea.

She has put on her party shoe,

And I have thought

On is, and ought,

And on what some lonely men do.

We have said goodbye. And I

Have been left with Dowson’s poetry,

And the thought of is, and ought,

And what a man should be.

Despair

An angel came.

He knew not

Her true name.

Or perhaps he forgot.

She left him forsaken

With his money all taken.

The scent of despair

Hung in the air.

Another girl’s stilettoed feet

Are heard on the stair.

He asks her her name,

And she answers, “Despair”.

Sonnet

When a young lady wearing a bonnet

Said, “do you like my new sonnet?”.

I looked at it real hard

And said, “you’re such a card.

As your sonnet it resembles a bonnet!”.

When A Short-Sighted Gentleman Wearing Glasses

When a short-sighted gentleman wearing dark glasses

Said, “I like to date pretty lasses”,

A young lady eating buttered toast

Said, “you are addressing my gatepost!

And it doesn’t like gentlemen wearing glasses!”.

In Truth I Lie

There was a young man named Guy

Who said, “in July I never lie.

But, come the August,

Then lie I must.

In truth, I’m a lying young guy!”.

August Is Hot As Lust

August is hot as lust.

I was born in January

And in me you see

The soul of winter.

I have a splinter

Of ice in my heart.

My poetic art

Is January. and hot August.

No man can outrun the sun.

But birds sing

In the spring.

And winter’s splinter is my art.

A 5 star review of my book “Light and Shade: Serious (and Not so Serious) Poems

I was delighted to receive the following review, entitled “Excellent thought-provoking poetry”, for my collection of poetry “Light and Shade; Serious (and Not so Serious) Poems”:

“Kevin writes what I call ‘real’ poetry. I don’t like the so-called free verse that most poets seem to write

nowadays. Free of what? Rhyme and rhythm. Both are what make a poem. Without those, it might just as well be a piece of prose, albeit in arbitrary lines …”.

(To read the review in it’s entirety please visit ht...

There Once Was A Man Who, Whilst Drinking

There once was a man who, whilst drinking

Slurred, “this here boatit is surely sinking”.

A young lady named Claire

Said, “sir, take great care!”,

And the seagulls they cried, “you are sinking!”.

When My Dog Found A Stocking

When my dog found a stocking

Belonging to beautiful young miss Hocking,

The vicar looked grim

And spoke of sin.

But the dog found nothing shocking!

—

When my dog found a stocking

Belonging to beautiful young miss Hocking,

The vicar looked grim

And spoke of sin.

And her boyfriend he came knocking!

Time

Time passes

In women

And glasses.

“What is sinning?”

The religious ask.

“Does it exist?”,

I reply.

Theologians persist,

“All this will pass”.

While poets smile

And compose a rhyme

To many a pretty lass,

And time

Which does so quickly pass.