K. Morris's Blog, page 544

The Enduring Lie of a Golden Age – Part 2…This is Personal

I can relate to much of what Mick says.

Mick Canning

Two weeks ago I wrote of the idea so many people have that somewhere in the past there was a ‘Golden Age’ when everything was so much better than today.

I am now going to post what might seem a bit of a contradiction to what I wrote then.

More and more, we are losing our connection with the natural world.

Everyone would have a different opinion on what is meant by the phrase ‘quality of life’, but for me if I am surrounded by concrete stru...

A Thin Thread

A thin thread
Separates the dreamer’s head
From consequences dire.
I see the waker yearning,
His hand turning
Towards the fire.

Fireworks #midnighthaiku

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

Nature’s silent flames
Pyrotechnical display
Repeated daily

In competition
Recreating transient stars
Man doomed to failure

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Poems For November 5th

November 5th is Guy Fawkes or Bonfire Night here in the UK. Below are 2 of my poems with a fireworks/Bonfire Night element to them. The first is entitled “Catherine Wheel” and the second “The Dark”.

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Both poems can be found in my collection, “Lost In The Labyrinth Of My Mind”, (http://moyhill.com/lost/).

—

Sometimes I feel
Like a Catherine wheel,
My words as sparks,
Lighting the dark.
But who in December
Remembers
The fifth of November?

—

Closing my curtain
I shut out the night
And the firewo...

Afternoons Long Ago

Afternoons lazing.
No trail blazing.
Desultory chatter.
Dreams shatter.
An invitation.
A pale imitation of love.

You were mine to choose.
I chose to lose.
To lose what? My heart?
Best stick to art,
For if I start
I may impart
Too much.
For Dutch courage has led many a man to say
More than he meant to say.

The street
Where we did meet
Was a cul-de-sac.
Perhaps you yearned,
(We could have turned
Back).
Was it need,
Greed
Or something other
That led you to become a kind of lover?

There Was A Young Man Named Nick

There was a young man named Nick
Who purchased a rain stick.
He danced about
And made great shout,
But it failed to rain on Nick!

—

There was a young man named Nick
Who purchased a rain stick.
He raised it high
Unto the sky
But it failed to rain on Nick!

—

There was a young man named Nick
Who purchased a rain stick.
When it failed to rain
He didn’t complain
But bought another stick!

Lost Track

My dog slumbers
Inocent as the day he came
Into this world
And will leave it the same.
I have long lost track of numbers.

Commercial Break

If we stripped away the advertising hoardings
And quelled the glitzy TV commercials,
Those recordings
Of sexy girls telling you and I
What we ought to buy,
Would we cease going around in ever decreasing circles
And gaze awestruck at the great sky?

Perhaps it would be as above
And love
Of higher things would reign,
But then again
There is the stain
Which caused God to expel
Lucifer to hell

Stream Of Consciousness Rambling

Shall I write
To delight
My reader’s a stream of consciousness piece?
Or should I cease
My screed?
For there is no need
To take up their valuable time
With my rhyme
Which goes,
As the river flows
Down to the sea.

I am lost in the ocean
My words a mere commotion
Which (as the bard now dead
So rightly said)
Is “a tale told by an idiot signifying nothing”.

“Macbeth”, or should I say
“The Scottish Play”
Is full of words cleverly stitched together,
With witches and stormy weather
Playing their p...

There Was A Young Lady Named Alice

There was a young lady named Alice
Who lived in Crystal Palace.
She broke the law
At halfpast four
And ran away to Dallas!