K. Morris's Blog, page 9
July 27, 2025
Tea Anyone?
When a young man using Chat GPT
Asked it to make him some tea,
It wrote about Ceylon
And hallucinated about Ron.
But he still hasn’t got his tea!
July 26, 2025
The Illusion of Time
I am often told
That time
Is merely an illusion.
Yet rhyme
Has beginning and end.
And time
My ever present friend
Will stop
This ageing clock
In the end.
When I Met the Poet Milton
When I met the poet Milton
In the supermarket shopping for Stilton,
And I spoke of “Paradise Lost”,
He said, “have you seen the cost
Of all these cheeses, especially this Stilton!”
The Night’s Companion (a poem written with the aid of AI)
She walks through the city’s gaudy glow,
Her unquiet grace in torpid midnight air,
Heels write stories only the lonely know
Of longing, forced laughter, and mutual despair.
Her sadness hides behind a smile.
She offers warmth for those who pay the fee,
Yet look behind her carefully constructed style
And you will see another she.
She’s practiced in the art of polite chat,
Of weaving silken moments, bright and brief,
Her eyes—two lanterns—never showing that
They sometimes flicker shadows dark with ...
Disjointed
Your perfume lingered in my living room
After you where gone.
The memory of skin against skin
Lives on.
Some would call it sin.
Perhaps, when all is said and done
One man’s fun
Is another’s sin.
The sky did not fall in
On me or you.
I am generally comfortable alone.
But I have the phone
Should I need you.
Your perfume will linger again
And I will recall
What some call the fall.
Perhaps pleasure and pain
Are somewhat the same.
But, if I am only dust
Why does Paradise Lost ma...
July 24, 2025
Caught Up in Our Nightmares
Caught up in our nightmares
Of what may, or may not occur,
We forget the beautiful sunset
And that the earth in the wood
Smells good when wet.
Living in fear
We fail to hear
When birds sing.
Our spring
Is so brief.
Nightmare’s teeth
Pierce our hearts.
Yet we have art
And nature’s beauty
Ere we depart
Into that sleep
Where we are unaware
Of beauty or nightmare.
Pink Socks
When a young lady wearing pink socks
Walked into a shop full of clocks,
The shop owner named Lyme
Said, “it is high time
That you wore something with those socks!”.
The Joys of Cheese
When an elderly gentleman named Mr Foster
Choked on some cheese whilst in Gloucester.
A doctor called Louise
Said, “he liked cheese!
And he died whilst eating Double Gloucester!”
July 23, 2025
Walking Home in the Pouring Rain
Walking home in the pouring rain
I pondered on AI
And those who continue to maintain
The inevitability of progress.
The rain continued to fall.
Although I heard
No human word
Nature seemed to laugh
As I passed
Along the familiar churchyard path.
Kevin Morris Poet’s New Show on World Poetry Cafe
I am pleased to let you know that my new show on the World Poetry Café is now live and can be found here https://www.mixcloud.com/VictorSchwartzman/world-poetry-cafe-july-24-2025-kevin-morris/
As many of you will be aware, I am a regular guest on the World Poetry Café. However, I now have a dedicated monthly show, during which I read and discuss not only my own work but that of others. In this podcast, I read A. E. Housman’s wonderful poem, “On Wenlock Edge” and talked about the life of the poe...
