K. Morris's Blog, page 317

The Song of the Siren

Lashed to the mast,
You ride
The tide
Of pain and pleasure.
The weather
Is hot.

Sirens sunbathe,
And say, “let go”.
You know
You ought not,
But the girls are so hot,
And the reef
Of grief
Below
Seems hidden, and all you see
Is a beautiful she.

So, you let go
And, at your leisure
Go down
And drown
In the sea
Of pain and pleasure.

But, long
‘Ere you did see
Those cold, calculating eyes,,
You recognised
Her siren song.
And yet
You did choose
To lose
Yourself in the sea of regret,
Where men go...

Invisible Notches in Bedposts

Invisible notches in bedposts.
Do neighbours see ghosts
Enter and depart?
They leave not their heart
Behind.
Yet he does find
Invisible notches.
Indelible blotches
Which, from time to time,
Plague his mind.

Kiss

This is a beautiful poem.

forgottenmeadows

I left a kiss
by your door
If you miss me
when I am no more,
feel it in the wind
forevermore…
I left a kiss,
by your door.

free google image/ poetry copyright neha 2020

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On My Way To The Pub

On my way to the pub,
I look at the empty sky
Above,
And think
On drink,
And love

But there is only this winter sky
Above,
And the awaiting fire
I
So desire,
In the pub

An Extremely Talented Young Lady Named Joan

an extremely talented young lady named Joan
Composed a poem about the men she’s known.
Its well over 100 verses in length,
So one can not but admire the strength,
Of that active young lady named Joan.

When A Masochist Named Paul

When a masochist named Paul
Sprayed graffiti on a wall,
And a girl called Lou
Spanked him with her shoe,
He graffitied the other wall!

The British Library and Legal Deposit

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A few days ago, I received a receipt from the British Library, confirming that my “Selected Poems” has been added to their shelves/catalogue.

Under UK law a copy of every publication, published in the United Kingdom, (print and electronic), must be provided to the British Library, and to 5 other UK libraries on request.

The responsibility for furnishing copies rests with publishers which, (in the case of self-published authors) in effect means that they must provide their published works to...

A Linger of Fingers

A linger
Of fingers,
(Of her’s, on his).
She has no ring.
Yet imagination is
A thing
Not to be believed.

Was he
Deceived
By fingers
That lingered
Maybe,
Longer, than was strictly
Necessary?

The Affair

When a young lady named Claire
Said, “we should stop this affair!”,
I looked at her quizzically
And said, “please, remind me,
When did we start an affair!”.

Birdsong

When,
At a little after 5 am
I awake.
I think it late.

“Can you hear the birds?”,
You said.
Alone, in my bed,
I remember your words,
So much unsaid
By a girl who
I scarcely knew,
For a night is not long.
Yet, you took me far beyond
Sin, with the beauty of birdsong.