K. Morris's Blog, page 551

Augurs

Walking through the churchyard
I heard
you talking.
Your word
Was gentle then,
A breeze
Whispering amongst the leaves,
But when
You In anger blow
The wise know
That your breath
Augurs death,
For we reap what we sow.

There Was An Elderly Man Named Locke

There was an elderly man named Locke
Who owned a grandfather clock.
Dead on nine
He would dine
To the chimes of that grandfather clock

Give Me A Wealthy Patron To Support My Rhyme

Give me a wealthy patron to support my rhyme
That I may please
And gently tease.
But a thought most sad
Drives me mad
For I was born in the modern time!

Shal I compose jingles
To sell pringles?
Or advertise singles
Clubs
Where couples in bath tubs …

No, late at night
I shall continue to write
In rhyme
Until come my time …

There Was A Young Man Named Moor

There was a young man named Moor
Who’s poetry was most obscure.
Much to his surprise
Readers did criticise
So he composed a whole lot more!

Why I am reluctant to comment on the work of fellow poets

It goes without saying that I am delighted whenever readers express appreciation for my work. Its wonderful to know that my poetry brings pleasure to others.

On occasions readers appreciation of my poetry has caused them to contact me requesting that I critique their work. I am greatly flattered when this occurs. However I invariably respond with a courteous decline.

As with all poets, I have my own unique style. This usually entails the extensive use of rhyme. I find an intrinsic beauty in...

There Was A Young Lady Named Kate

There was a young lady named Kate
Who wished to abolish the state.
She became an anarchist bold
But lo and behold
The state outlasted Kate

When Books Fall Out!

Hobbes
Lobs
Bricks at Locke,
While Lenin’s work
Is excoriated by Burke.

Friedman stands aloof
Believing he holds the absolute truth,
While Engels continues his long wait
For the end of the Capitalist state.

—

1. I studied history and politics at University College of Swansea and read all of the below works during the course of my studies. The books still reside on the bookshelves which live in my spare room, which I glorify with the name of study!

2. Thomas Hobbes was a philosopher who, in 16...

There Was A Young Lady Of Dutch Extraction

There was a young lady of Dutch extraction
To whom I felt an attraction.
She was a lover of art
And lived in my heart,
But to her I was a mere abstraction!

A Writer’s Legacy

I hope people will read my writings after I have ceased to be. This is perhaps somewhat peculiar in that I possess no certainty of life after death (being inclined to agnosticism). If one will have no awareness after one has shuffled off this mortal coil, then why concern oneself with the survival of one’s writings? None the less I do (as stated above) hope that my work will survive and in some small way enrich the lives of future generations. Kevin

KLH Writing

Death, the one thing that is i...

Two of my earlier poems

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Below are 2 poems, “The Girl Who Wasn’t There” and “Two Voices”.

Both poems can be found in my collection of poetry, “The Girl Who Wasn’t There”, which was published in September 2015 and can be found HERE.

—

I am the girl who wasn’t there.
I did not sit upon that chair,
Playing provocatively with my hair.
I did not drink that expensive wine,
While gazing on your paintings fine.
I did not recline under the quilt so red,
Or moan with ecstasy in your bed.
If, by chance, an earring she should f...