K. Morris's Blog, page 545

Commercial Break

If we stripped away the advertising hoardings
And quelled the glitzy TV commercials,
Those recordings
Of sexy girls telling you and I
What we ought to buy,
Would we cease going around in ever decreasing circles
And gaze awestruck at the great sky?

Perhaps it would be as above
And love
Of higher things would reign,
But then again
There is the stain
Which caused God to expel
Lucifer to hell

Stream Of Consciousness Rambling

Shall I write
To delight
My reader’s a stream of consciousness piece?
Or should I cease
My screed?
For there is no need
To take up their valuable time
With my rhyme
Which goes,
As the river flows
Down to the sea.

I am lost in the ocean
My words a mere commotion
Which (as the bard now dead
So rightly said)
Is “a tale told by an idiot signifying nothing”.

“Macbeth”, or should I say
“The Scottish Play”
Is full of words cleverly stitched together,
With witches and stormy weather
Playing their p...

There Was A Young Lady Named Alice

There was a young lady named Alice
Who lived in Crystal Palace.
She broke the law
At halfpast four
And ran away to Dallas!

Memory

Our memory is like a garden, where we spend many hours
Watering fragrant flowers.
Yet sometimes we succeed
In fertilising a weed.
Indeed
We take a perverse delight in watching it grow
Much though
We deny that it is so!

Let not the weed
Seed
Say I,
But learn from it, then let it die,
For if it’s growth you do not control
It will succeed
And choke your soul.

There Was A Young Man From Mauritius

There was a young man from Mauritius
Who thought all things delicious.
He ate some chalk
And a plastic fawk,
The effect was rather pernicious!

Dreams

I dreamed and in my dream cups broke
And matters where confused.
When I awoke
I smiled an amused
Smile.
For I can not resile
From the view
That dreams oft times represent what is true,
Or at least what may be so
Unless a man say “whoa!”.

“A Confession” by Czeslaw Milosz

I came across Czeslaw Milosz’s fine poem, “A Confession”, while leafing through “Essential Poems”, from the Staying Alive Series, edited by Neil Astley (Bloodaxe Books). We are fallen creatures all, and it’s a brave man who recognises his own frailties, (http://enothingblog.blogspot.co.uk/2010/03/poem-of-day-confession-by-czeslaw.html).

The Builder And The Poet

A builder and a poet sat drinking.
“I am thinking
That its getting black outside.
The moon does hide
Her face.
One can trace
In yonder darkening sky
The fall from grace
Of you and I”,
The poet said
With a shake of his greying head.

“Me missus will
Kill me.
I said I’d be back for 3.
That can’t be right,
The clock says its 10 at night!
Me tea
Will be in the dog, (or over me)!

Oh you poets have such charm.
Go on then, as you twist my arm
I’ll have another drink.
Now what did you think
Of the m...

There Was A Young Lady Named Crystal

There was a young lady named Crystal
Who owned an antique pistol.
The gun went bang
And up she sprang
And ran all the way to Bristol!

Witch

TonightI shall fly
Through the starless sky
On my broomstick.
And my banshee wail
Will make the righteous quail,
But oh how I wish
That flight did not make me sick …!