K. Morris's Blog, page 628
December 10, 2016
When
I find
That my clock has stopped.
I can the mechanism wind
Again and again,
But when
The time does come
Methinks the clock will still run
There Was A Young Man Called Neil
There was a young man called Neil
Who dated a girl in high heel.
When she stood on a wall,
She was 12 feet tall,
It made his senses reel!
—
There was a young man called Neil
Who dated a girl named Lucille.
When she stood on a wall,
She was 12 feet tall,
It made his senses reel!
Changing reading habits
It was a holiday in Turkey some years ago which was the catalyst to a major change in my reading habits.
I’d finished the last of the books I’d brought with me – three days before our holiday ended. We were staying in a small town which had shops selling hand-painted pottery, gorgeous silver jewellery and clothing – but no books. The DH, who listens to audio books, panicked at the thought of me being without a book for three days. I panicked at the thought of being without...
December 9, 2016
There Was A Young Man Called Pailing
There was a young man called Pailing
Who went out with his dog sailing.
They got lost in the ocean,
And there was quite a commotion,
You should have heard their weeping and wailing!
—
There was a young man called Pailing
Who bought a brand new railing.
But the darned thing broke,
And he remarked, “what a joke,
And the light it is certainly failing!”
The Robots Are Coming
A speech by Mark Carney, Governor of the Bank of England in which he predicts that over time upto 15 million jobs are at risk of automation in the UK. The occupations at risk include that of estate agent, call centre operative and customer service roles.
The Industrial Revolution saw the replacement of the artisan craftsman by the cotton mill but, ultimately the jobs market adjusted to the change and mass unemployment (as invisioned by Carney in the present instance) did not result. However t...
There Was A Young Lady Called Anna
There was a young lady called Anna
Who waved a rather rude banner.
When people did complain
She said, with disdain
“This is just my normal manner”!
Nothing in Particular
On a fine
December day, when the sun does shine,
I breathe in the smell
Of old books, and hope all may be well.
Dust causes me to cough.
One may scoff
At the idea
Yet I fancy, death brings up the rear.
My wardrobe door creaks at a late hour.
Reason’s power
Has gone astray
And I pray
That despair
Remains in his lair.
Self Publish! It Can’t Get Any Worse
An interesting piece which just goes to show that well established publishing houses can make significant mistakes with author’s work.
A friend, who knows I have been self-publishing my books since 1990, handed me a short article from Die Zeit. This is a German weekly, normally too heavy to lift with one hand – perhaps equivalent to The Observer, except it appears Thursdays for some obscure reason. The article was by Harald Martenstein, senior editor at the Tagespiegel. He...
Podcast of Kevin’s poem, “My Old Clock I Wind” on Vancouver Co-op Radio
Many thanks to Neall of Vancouver Co-op Radio for reading my poem, “My Old Clock I wind” and Ariadne for facilitating this. The poem is below:
“My old clock I wind
And much philosophy therein find.
I can bring
The pendulum’s swing
To a stop With my hand,
Yet I can not command
Time to default
On his duty and halt
The passing of the years.
He has no ears
For our laughter and tears
And his sickle will swing on
Long after we are gone”.
The show was broadcast at 13:00 on Thursday 8 December and...
December 8, 2016
Kevin’s poetry to be read on Vancouver Co-op Radio
Thank you to Ariadne Sawyer for kindly agreeing to read one of my poems in her programme, which broadcasts from 1-2 pm today, on Vancouver Co-op Radio.
I was delighted to learn that Ariadne, from Vancouver Co-op Radio (http://www.coopradio.org/content/world-poetry-cafe-2), has kindly agreed to read one of my poems, during her programme, which airs between 1-2 pm on Thursday 8 December. Ariadne presents the World Poetry Reading Series (http://worldpoetry.ca/), a regular featur...
