K. Morris's Blog, page 532

An Elderly Writer Named Perks

An elderly writer named Perks
Published his collected works.
They where beautifully bound
And contained wisdom profound.
But in bookshelves the woodworm lurks

Words Caper

Words caper
On virtual paper,
As my thoughts one another chase,
Only to be lost in cyberspace.
‘Else my words on pages
Moulder for ages.

But it is not the case
That cyberspace
Does forget,
And dusty tomes, may be read yet.

There Was A Young Lady Named Leigh

There was a young lady named Leigh
Who got stung by a rather large bee.
When they said “does it hurt bad?”
She turned quite mad
And climbed a fine old oak tree!

The Train Passenger

So shy
I thought.
But I
Had bought
A ticket to a destination
And the ride
To the station
Was (I think you will agree)
Trouble free.
At any rate, you took it in your stride

There Was A Young Lady Named Nell

There was a young lady named Nell
Who lived in a prison cell.
She crossed a line
While drunk on cheap wine
And was sentenced by a judge called Snell.

—

There was a young lady named Nell
Who lived in a prison cell.
She wrote many a rhyme
To pass the time
But her poems they didn’t sell.

—

There was a young lady named Nell
Who lived in a prison cell.
When I asked her “why?”
She winked her eye
And said “I like it very well!”.

Short Story

Most of you will know me as a poet. I have, however also published a number of short stories, one of which, “Run For Your Life” is reproduced below. Please note that “Run For Your Life” contains strong language. If you are offended by such language you may wish to skip the below.

“Run For Your Life” can be found in “Dalliance; A Collection Of Poetry And Prose”, https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00QQVJC7E.

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Wanker flirting with that barmaid like that. He says that he was just having a laugh but...

Will AI Violate Copyrights?

This is an interesting post, written by a philosopher. I really don’t think that authors need to concern themselves, in the foreseeable future (perhaps never) with the possibility that artificial intelligence will infringe their copyright. As for us placing restrictions on the ability of AI to infringe copyright (and this being “another reason” for them “to kill us”) I chuckled at the very idea and I suspect the author of this post had his tongue in his cheeck when he wrote those words.

A Ph...

If Each Glass Told A Tale

If each glass told a tale
We would turn pale
And take
Care
To avoid their
Impassive stare.

Many a glass would break.
Such an easy mistake
To make
To catch a mirror, with an elbow
And watch it go
A-spinning,
And see our sinning
In fragments on the floor,
To be spoken of no more
By the all-seeing eye …

The Musician’s Lover

“O sweet musician
Lead me not into perdition
For the lay
You play
Has carried many a man away.

Your tune
‘Tis over soon
And those who do you adore
Are left wanting more.

The beat
Of your feet
Has led many a man astray.
The song you play
Leaves men weak
And unable to speak
Save in grunt and moan.

We men can not leave it alone.
Though the wise amongst us know
That there is no rest
To be found on the breast
Of the musician who will play
A sweet lay
For a damned soul’s pay.

He Was A Poet By Profession

He was a poet by profession.
His confession
Caused the priest to roll his eyes
And look to the skies,
While the devil cleared a place
For another member of the human race.