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K. Morris's Blog, page 352
October 6, 2019
When A Young Lady Named Claire
When a young lady named Claire
Asked, “shall we have a sordid affair?”,
And I said, “just us 2?”,
She replied, “do you like Miss Lou?”,
And this poem, it stops right there …
When A Young Lady of Greece
When a young lady of Greece
Said, “when will your writing cease?”,
I replied, with a grin,
“Are you in to hot sin?”,
And then she called the police!
October 5, 2019
The Customer
“With me
Its not just
A desire
For fire,
Its company
Also, for lust
Is fleeting as a girl’s forced smile,
There for a while,
Turned on
For me,
Then gone
With she
Who cares not for me,
Nor for my company”.
What is Art?
A thought provoking post on “What is Art?”, followed on by an interesting discussion in the comments section, https://irevuo.art/2019/10/04/tmm-what-is-art/.
Sometimes I think that those who lop and chop
Sometimes I think that those
Who lop
And chop
At that which organically grows,
And think they do good
No not the wood
As a whole
Is possessed of a soul,
And that sometimes one should let be
Both wood
And tree,
For who
Are you
And I
To quantify variety?
A Case of Mistaken Identity
A few days back, I received an email from a lady saying how nice it had been to meet me, expressing thanks for looking at her poems and asking if I could please provide her with the telephone number of a MS S. We had, she said met in a pub called The Bull.
All of this was delightful. However, I have no recollection whatsoever of having met the lady in question. I don’t frequent a pub called The Bull and I am not acquainted with MS s!
On receving the email, I had a moment of doubt. Had I, suff...
A Young Lady Who Calls Herself Intellectual
A young lady who calls herself intellectual
Swears that she’s not at all sexual.
I’ve never seen her flirt
In her very short skirt,
As she’s pure and a true intellectual!
October 4, 2019
I Remember The Skirt
I remember the skirt
(Although you and I know
That there was not much of that).
There was no need to flirt.
Being sensible, I wore a hat.
And that
Would have been that,
Save for my desire
To remember the gas fire
And the carpet burns
On legs,
For we had no use for beds.
Oh how the clock’s hands turn
And man, he never learns.
When A Young Lady Named Louise
When a young lady named Louise
Suggested we walk in the autumn leaves,
And I asked, “will Claire be there?”,
She gave me a pearcing glare,
She’s a jealous young lady is Louise!
(The above was inspired by Lorraine’s beautiful poem, https://blindwilderness.wordpress.com/2019/10/04/shenanigans/).
A Young Lady Named Claire
A young lady named Claire
Invited me into her lair,
Where we ate chocolate cake
But, when I tried to partake,
She threw me out of there!
