K. Morris's Blog, page 567

Fantasy #midnighthaiku

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

Unimagined worlds
Scattered by the morning mists
Wake the dreamers’ dream

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Final Straw

An arm thick as the final straw.
The lure
Of the not quite forbidden.
Many have ridden
Down the hidden
track:
Lush
With fragrant bush
And unable or unwilling to turn back
Have themselves been caught
In a mire of desire,
(A secret fire
They aught
Not to have ignited
Or in it’s flames delighted.
‘Ere they found
Their desire was with sorrow crowned

“Beyond the Blaydon Races” by Alan Clothier

I have enjoyed a number of conversations with the granddaughter of Alan Clothier, (the author of “Beyond the Blaydon Races”), and it was from her that I learned of his work on the Blaydon railways.
The book’s description reads as follows:
“The area covered by this book is mainly that of the five waggonways delivering coal to their staiths on the River Tyne at Lemington from collieries at
Wylam, Heddon, Throckley, Walbottle, Hollywell and Black Callerton. The main objective has been to place t...

Countries that Ban Books and How it Negatively Affects Their Residents

Katerina Zissouli

When we think of censorship, our minds may flicker back to the invention of the printing press and the subsequent crackdown of major governmental entities — specifically, the British Empire.

However, censorship is still alive and well to this very day, with several countries exercising their power to ban literary works religiously.

While there are a number of countries that participate in this act, here is a list of countries whose crimes against literature are the most egr...

Crying

A girl crying
On a train.
Me trying
To restrain
The human inclination to say
“Are you okay?”
But what right have I
To intrude on a girl who does cry?

My dog noses
Her.
I swear
His compassion exposes
The British reserve
In me.
As I swerve
Aside, and let her be.

Seeking Poetic Inspiration

My guide dog, Trigger seeking poetic inspiration on his back (his best work comes to him in such moments).

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“My Old Clock I Wind” will soon be available as an audio download

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Following on from my post of 8 August, in which I said that I was exploring the possibility of having “My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems” recorded, using Audiobook Creation Exchange, I am pleased to announce that my work is now in the process of being recorded. I will, of course post here once the audio version of “My Old Clock” is available.

In the meantime, anyone who is interested in reading “My Old Clock” can find it in paperback and ebook formats on the publisher’s website http://moyh...

The Abyss of Bliss

Who, while gazing into the abyss,
Has not seen
The devil grin,
And been
Tempted by the bliss
Of an undiscovered sin?

There Was A Young Man From My Local

There was a young man from my local
Who maintained that he was wholly teetotal.
Each day he would sup,
From his tea cup
And he wabbled as he left my local …

(the term “local” signifies a public house or pub in the UK.
A person who is teetotal never drinks alcohol.
The character in the above limerick is, of course wholly ficticious in nature).

A Sober Satyr Reflects

So many angels with broken wings.
Do fortune’s slings
Bring them low?
Some things
I know
And wish it where not so.

Heaven is here
When angels are near,
But as the years advance
The dance
Is ever more staid.
I have with angels played
And for the pleasure paid.