K. Morris's Blog, page 425
February 10, 2019
Monday Morning Humour
There once was a man named Moat
Who went to sea with a goat.
When his ship it sank,
The captain, Frank
Said, “will someone save that goat”!
—
There once was a young lady named White
Who haunted my home at night.
A sceptic named Ted
Said, “the dead are forever dead”,
Now she haunts his house at night”!
Drinking Poetry
I am unable to Poe
and thinking of Plath
as I listen in darkness
to Longfellow’s serenade
drinking absolute
torch and Twain
as Ayr’s bard Burns,
like Dante’s Inferno
sliding down…
down… my throat
ere a chilly Frost,
while daring to walk
on The Road Not Taken
with Tolkien’s Hobbits
running Swift and Wilde…
Sexton coughs, “Live or Die!”
and Cohen croons, “Hallelujah!”
until the night is over and Donne.
© Literary Remains
There Is A Young Lady Named Lorraine
There is a young lady named Lorraine
Who often causes me pain.
Whenever I am cut
By her stilettos on my foot,
She says, “please, don’t wear them again”!
To Understand Me
To understand me
Read my poetry
Or, maybe …
Faces
Being blind
I find
No traces
Of faces
In the loud
Blank crowd
Which might, my memory spark.
My world is not dark.
I see
The outline of post and tree,
Though I can not see
The individual She
(Other than an outline
I am unable to define).
I recall the feel
Of a girl’s high-heel
And the dress
I felt
(‘Twas more belt
Than dress).
I recollect a caress
(Sometimes meant)
And girl’s sweet scent.
And the click
Of heels
As the clock’s tick
Unnoticed, steals.
I can grasp
Elements of the past,
But I...
February 9, 2019
Andrew Motion’s Top 10 Tips For Being A Successful Poet
A very good piece by Sir Andrew Motion, former UK Poet Laureate, in which he gives his top 10 tips for being a successful poet. I particularly agree with his view that poets should not cut themselves off from the world or, as he puts it “live in an ivory tower”. I also agree with Motion that its important to read lots. For the article please visit https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-29538180.
A Young Man Whose Name Was Lee
A young man whose name was Lee
Wrote a poem when aged only 3,
Which a literary critic called Wood
Considered so very good,
That he framed both poem and Lee!
The Rake and His Lover
We drank wine blood red
Then, undesired
I retired
To bed
With you
Who performed a good show
For me.
Although the performance
Was far from being free.
There Once Was A Writer Named Hugh
There once was a writer named Hugh
Who, wishing to write something new,
Flew straight to the moon
In a hot air balloon.
But he still couldn’t write anything new.
—
There once was a writer named Hugh
Who, wishing to write something new,
Flew straight to the moon
With a heated silver spoon,
Pursued by a copper called Lou!
The Wind, In The City
The wind, in the city
Blows on our pretty
Baubles. And on thee
And me.
And seems to say,
“Baubles and thee
Will pass away.
But I will stay
And laugh
At lad and lass
Who, in the joy of romance
Drink and dance
And Think
They will remain, forever young.
The poet’s tongue
Will into silence go.
While I (the weather)
Will forever
Remain
In wind, and snow,
And rain.
