K. Morris's Blog, page 609

Do you judge writers?

Christopher Slater raises an interesting issue in this article entitled “Do you judge writers?” (https://ryanlanz.com/2017/02/16/do-you-judge-writers/)

My own view is that while it is difficult not to judge writers (their morals or lack of them), one should, so far as is humanly possible avoid doing so. A great writer remains so even if he (or she) was/is a terrible parent to their children or held/holds views with which most liberal (with a small l) individuals would disagree.

In this articl...

Mirror

Thank you to Pax Et Dolor Magazine for publishing my poem “Mirror”.

Pax Et Dolor Magazine

By :- Kevin Morris

The mirror sees it all

The writings on the wall

To the girl he calls

She turns to him and falls

Gazing in the glass

She sees the truth at last

Hides it with a laugh

Would that she could break the glass

The copyrights on the article belong to the author. The responsibility for the opinions expressed in the article belongs exclusively to the author. Find more of his beautiful works at ...

Leaf

Thank you to Pax Et Dolor Magazine for publishing my poem. Kevin

Pax Et Dolor Magazine

By:- Kevin Morris

Alone
In the car park.
The truth stark
Is blown
With the leaves
Who do not deceive.
Yet to grieve
Over lost hope
Helps no one cope.
Polite chatter,
As the rain
Did patter
On the window pane
Of a chain Café
Where I picked up the bill to pay.
One day,
No doubt, all this will seem far away.

Note: The copyrights on the article belong to the author. The responsibility for the opinions expresse...

Count Dracula Went Out To Dine

Count Dracula went out to dine.
“Red wine?”
The waitress said.
Dracula shook his head.
“No thank you my dear. Your neck is most fine
And the glint of that necklace against your skin
Temps me into sin.
Come near
And let me whisper in your dainty ear
Words of desire
From a vampire
To you,
My love most true”.

“Sir,
That gentleman over there
He with the coat of fur,
Who howls at the moon,
Will require my attention soon.
The Werewolf has his need
And must also feed”.

“Oh waitress most divine
I s...

I Saw A Great Tent

I saw a great tent.
In I went
And found therein
Every man’s particular sin.

There I met
A girl called regret
Who did smile
And for a while
Invited men to forget
All pain.
Returning again and again
They Forged their own chain.

I shook my head
As the gambler said
“This time I shall win”,
For I saw the bookie grin

Drinkers from far and near
Revelled in wine and beer.
They drank and drank
As the sun rose and sank.
“Cheers.
More beers
Here, barmaid for we are soon dead”.
Someone said.
As he spok...

Ivory Tower

The poet in his ivory tower
Has not the power
To change
This deranged
Place
Where the lunatic’s face
Flushed with belief
Brings the world to grief.

Those who think themselves sane
Cudgel their brain
And impose dreams
(which they call schemes)
For the improvement of man.

When dreams fail
The believers wail
“We will get it right next time”.
Or, for shame
They blame
The poor
Gardener who asks nothing more
Than to be left alone to cultivate his garden.

The poet begs pardon
To be excused,
With...

There Was A Young Man Called Musk

There was a young man called Musk
Who said “all flesh is but dust”.
His girlfriend Lina,
Who was a fanatical cleaner,
Swept him up with the dust.

Guest post: Why you should consider joining a writing group

Jennie Ensor - Novelist, etc

Here’s another of my occasional author guest posts. Today I hand over to fellow Unbound author, Shona Kinsella, whose debut novel Ashael Rising has just been published. Ms Kinsella describes her experience with the writing community Scribophile. (I joined Scribophile once, I must confess, and did nothing there whatsoever except read about the karma system and decide it wasn’t for me. But maybe it’s time to go back and have another look.) 

 

Draw up a chair and le...

Crossing

Waiting at the zebra crossing
I heard a disco in a box.
I crossed
And the beat
Ceased.

The Case of the Missing Book

“Holmes!” I cried,
I have tried
To deduce who took
My book.
I gave it to a girl, that she might read
And by so doing her mind feed.

She works in a store,
And would, I thought handle it with care,
But, on my return I discovered it was no longer there.
I fear it will be seen no more
And is forever lost somewhere in that store”.

My dear Watson, someone took
Your book,
While it was left lying around
By a shop girl, in a well known store.
I agree you will see it no more.
It is a problem too profou...