K. Morris's Blog, page 504
April 5, 2018
Frigid
A short dress.
One can caress
At the right price.
Some call it vice
But she has a “nice”
Smile.
There can be no denial
That she will do what she must.
To satisfy their lust,
For she can not afford
To be rigid
As a headboard.
But inside
She is frigid
For love long since died.
(Written in response to https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/frigid/
Poet and the sky: Poem by K. Morris
Many thanks to Maje for publishing the below poem, which can be found in my collection of poetry “Lost In The Labyrinth Of My Mind”. “Lost” is available in the Amazon Kindle store and from Moyhill Publishing in both paperback and ebook format.
Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind (an excerpt)
On seeing the stormy sky
The poet thinks “man must die”.
He sees the young girl bloom
And says “she is destined for the tomb”.
Oh let us gather wild flowers
And not waste our powers
Trapped...
April 4, 2018
A Clack Of Black High-Heeled Shoes
A clack
Of black
High-heeled shoes.
And bare white
Skin
Says delight
And a ruse
To draw him in …
Rain – a Haiku
Darkened stormy skies
Humidity is rising
Rain is on its way
4/3/18
My fourth poem for National Poetry Writing Month.
April 3, 2018
On The Death Of A Man
“Was he clubbable?” they said.
“Indeed, many wished to belabour him around the head”.
“Was he nice?”
“Every man has his vice
Be it big or small,
But let us not recall
Each slip and fall.
For ‘tis true
That he had virtues too.
“And what virtues had he?”
“Most agree
That he pursued his own ends
(Though it must be said that he was loyal to his friends).
He would stand his round
And could oft be found
Pint in hand
As he did stand
At many a bar,
His conversation ranging near and...
Forever Frozen
When he awoke
The folk
He could neither understand
Nor command.
They looked at him with pitty
And made witty
Observations he could not comprehend.
Having no friend
He pondered on whether all that expense
Made sense.
When he had handed over his gold
They had told
Him that “centuries hence
You will be forever free
To be
Whoever you wish to be.
What matter the expense
When you can shatter
This human clay
And forever as a god stay?”
Alone
On his eternal throne
He sits
As wits
Come and go.
I k...
NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo 2018 Challenges on the Go Dog Go Cafe
For National Poetry Month in 2003, American poet Maureen Thorson pledged on her blog to write a poem a day for the month of April and invited other poets with blogs to join her. Thorson continues to sponsor this annual project and the amount of participating poets continues to grow. National Poetry Writing Month or NaPoWriMo has spread so successfully through the world poetry community that many now refer to it as Global Poetry Writing Month or GloPoWriMo.
Christine, who has...
April 2, 2018
There Was A Man Called Lear
There was a man called Lear
Who composed a limerick most queer.
When I asked him “why?”
He made no reply.
Lear is dead I fear.
—
The Lear in the above limerick is, of course Edward Lear, the composer of “The Owl And The Pussycat” and numerous other nonsense verses and limericks, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_Lear.
God Gave Us Robert Frost
Frost is a wonderful poet and “October” is one of those poems which is so beautiful it makes one want to weep.
On my bookshelves is Frost’s “A Boy’s Will” and “North of Boston”. For anyone who is not familiar with the work of Frost, I strongly recommend reading his poetry.
When God knitted Robert Frost in his mother’s womb He thought of all us.
He knew we would forget the beauty of His glorious creation.
He knew we would become enamored with ourselves and captives of technol...
There Was A Seagull Called Mark
There was a seagull called Mark
Who lived in my local park.
He ate nothing but bread
And was terribly overfed,
That lazy seagull called Mark!
