K. Morris's Blog, page 543

Sandwich Wrapper

Rising at 6 am
I take up my virtual pen.
Then I see
Staring at me
The sandwich wrapper from yesterday.

Ah the romance of a writer’s life.
Had I a wife
She would clear that away,
Or more likely say
In a manner most sweet
“You throw away what you eat
My dearest love
For you are not above
Taking a trip to yonder bin.
Therein
You will discover abandoned schemes
And broken dreams”.

Why Are People Disinclined To Engage With Poetry

I am part of an informal network where people meet over coffee to discuss their jobs. The idea behind the network is to enable individuals from diverse professions/disciplines to learn from one another in an unpressured environment. These informal chats also furnish people with the chance to discuss non work related matters, for example hobbies. During a recent meeting (having exhausted work related issues), the conversation turned to outside interests. I mentioned that I write poetry. At thi...

There Was A Young Man Named Paul

There was a young man named Paul
Who drove his mistress up the wall.
He talked about his dear wife Jane
(Which caused his lover to complain),
So soon he had no mistress at all!

Remembrance

In honour of those who gave their lives for freedom, I am reproducing below my poem “Poppy”, which first appeared here on 4 November 2016. This year I was able to purchase a poppy to remember the dead.

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—

To those who died that you and me
Might live free.
To those who gave their sweet breath for King and Countrie.
I regret that yesterday
I had no cash to pay
For a poppy deep red
To remember the dead.

I will not know the stench
Of trench
Nor the wrench
Of fear
And pain as spear
Drains the life...

Poems Inspired By The Great North Wood

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Great North Wood, London, UK

Several of my poems have been inspired by the Great North Wood, one of the remnents of which is some 2-3 minutes walk from my home, http://www.wildlondon.org.uk/great-north-wood. I have spent many hours walking my dogs in Spa Woods, which form part of The Lawns, https://www.croydon.gov.uk/leisure/parksandopenspaces/parksatoz/the-lawns.

This afternoon I came across several volunteers from The Great North Wood/The Friends of Spa Woods engaged in conservation. A bonf...

All You Need is Love – 4 Days in Liverpool

As a Liverpudlian, (I moved from Liverpool to London in 1994 but have family in this great city and visit often), I enjoyed reading this post. If you have yet to visit Liverpool I wholeheartedly recommend you to do so.

Darlene Foster's Blog

I found music and love everywhere I turned on my recent visit to Liverpool. I fell in love with the sing-song accent of the friendly Liverpudlians and found this city a delight to explore.  After all, this is the home of my teenage heroes, John, Paul, Geor...

There Was A Young Lady Named Holly

There was a young lady named Holly
Who was extremely plump and jolly.
We met at night
And to my delight
She led me into folly …

Schopenhauer

While on the way to the shops yesterday, I met an acquaintance. As one does in such situations, we passed the time of day. During our conversation my companion thanked me for the print copy of my collection of poetry, “My Old Clock I Wind”, that I had given him. He had he said read it 3 times and intended to read it again. My poetry was, in his view bleak and reminded him of Schopenhauer.

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I must confess to never having read Shopenhauer, but the words of my acquaintance kindled in me a desire...

Rhythm

Man has striven
To disturb the rhythm
Of sea and sky,
And I
Can only sigh.

I Don’t Understand

I don’t understand those who wish that the sun would always shine,
For life is varied, and I pray that it will remain so.
When others complain
I shall go
Out in the rain
And feel alive
As they into buildings dive.

Some say the winter is drear
And huddle near
Fires that suck The oxygen away.
I can not stay
Indoors
On a cold winter’s day
But must ramble about on the moors
Or take a walk in an urban park
For the dark will come
And blot out the sun.
I am dust.