K. Morris's Blog, page 479
July 3, 2018
The Lost Soul
A wiff
Of cheap scent
On bedclothes
For him to sniff
When she goes.
How easy it is to repent
Of the money spent
But, he knows
That when the wine flows
The weak
Will seek
For a she of a certain profession.
Had he belief
He would make his confession
To the priest who knows
Where the lost soul goes
To find a temporary relief
On the Siren’s reef.
July 2, 2018
When In Drink
When in drink
We say what we really think
Our friends we scandalise.
But who knows
What goes
On behind those sober eyes …?
We pass Before The Glass
We pass
Before the glass,
Slake
And forsake.
To take
But not possess.
Her dress
Or jeans.
Scenes
Are in the mirror caught.
Our time is bought
But the glass will not tell
What we know
Oh too well …!
There Once Was A Werewolf Called Guy
There once was a werewolf called Guy
Who went out when the moon was high.
When the moon disappeared
He became afeared
And would shake and sometimes cry!
Book Promo – ‘My Vibrating Vertebrae’ – by Agnes Mae Graham…
Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog
These are stories or narrative poetry centered in Ireland written metrically with rhyme. The language flows well. Even when the stories seem dark the author’s heart shines through to light the way. For example, in “Ulster’s Shame”, a dark narrative with “blood stained footpaths and bullet spattered walls” we are not left with “screams” and “terror” bu...
There Was A Young Lady Called Bess
There was a young lady named Bess
Who wore a little black dress
While out on the catwalk.
And people did talk
On account of the split in that dress!
There Was A Young Lady Called Lou
There was a young lady named Lou
Who said “no gentleman are you!”.
I replied in distress
“I must confess
That twas I who stole your shoe!”.
July 1, 2018
Life Is Full Of Coincidences!
On 26 June, I published a post in which I link to a podcast of a discussion between 2 blind poets, Giles L Turnbull and Dave Steele, https://newauthoronline.com/2018/06/26/writing-blind/. As you will see from this post on Giles’s blog he and I both attended University College of Swansea (at the same time) and we both worked as civil servants in London, http://gilesturnbullpoet.com/2018/07/01/i-spy-with-my-little-eye-something-beginning-with-a-poet/.
Life is certainly full of coincidences as i...
The Case For Essay-Writing Services
A couple of weeks back, I fell in to conversation with a gentleman who works for a leading essay writing service. He was both educated and likeable, nonetheless I disapprove strongly of his occupation. Although “reputable” essay writing services carry disclaimers along the lines of “this service offers sample essays”, they know, perfectly well that many of those who avail themselves of such services wil pass off the work of the essay writing company as that of their own. This is, however one...
A Woman’s Villanelle
This is the town with the house with the woman with the fire inside
She arranges her mornings with needles and flowers, becoming quieter
Everyday wishing there is more to life than this great lone pine
They do not talk to her anymore, nor do they visit her with apple pies
The future is a gray seagull, they say, the sun has gone to another
Nameless town with a house with a woman with a fire inside
Over the hills a cruel wind blows, she sits and listens, still as life
...
