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Great Feedback On My “Selected Poems”

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I was delighted to receive the following email earlier today:

“Dear Mr Morris,
I am writing to tell you that your poems in “The Collected Poems of K Morris” that you gave me on the train on my way to college are exceptional. You might not remember me but I am the girl doing politics and history that you met on the train and gifted your amazing book to. I have always been interested in writing poems and therefore you have really inspired me to carry on my interest and write some poems of my own. I would really like to thank you for gifting me your book and inspiring me to continue writing”.

The Selected Poems of K. Morris

“The Selected Poems of K Morris” can be found here https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07WW8WXPP/ (for the UK), and here https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07WW8WXPP/. (for amazon.com customers).

(Please note, I have not included the young lady’s name in order to protect her privacy).

The Vicar’s Daughter

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When the vicar’s daughter named Miss Lee

Said, “life is merely a tragic comedy!”

And she danced quite nude,

Which the congregation found rude!

I made her a nice cup of tea!

Time’s Halter

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Tired.

Not inspired

To write tonight.

 

Light

Grows dim.

Seconds pass.

Pub and friends beckon.

 

 

The cheerful lights

Shut out the night.

But all dims

And the dark descends

In the end

 

Yet I laugh

And pass my time

In rhyme and friends

 

No-one can stop

The ever present clock

For Time’s halter

Holds us all

In thrall

Yet still we pretend …

Email Problems (Please Read if you Would Like to Contact Me)

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I have lost access to the email address associated with my blog, and which a number of my followers use to contact me. Whilst I am in the process of attempting to recover my email address, can anyone wishing to contact me please do so at triggerdog 101 (at) me dot com. The email address is rendered thus in order to defeat spammers!

 

Many thanks.

Poetry and Historical Fiction on the World Poetry Cafe

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On Thursday 29th January, I appeared on the World poetry Café together with the author of “Through the Roman Gate”, a historical novel which is available to purchase in the Kindle store. The book sounds like a fascinating read and I will be downloading it onto my Kindle.

 

During my segment of the podcast I read a number of my recently published work and talked about what inspires me to compose poetry.

 

To listen to the podcast please visit https://flashfiction2.substack.com/p/world-poetry-cafe-jan-29-kevin-morris?utm_source=podcast-email%2Csubstack&publication_id=5716717&post_id=186013381&utm_campaign=email-play-on-substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=play_card_post_title&r=dv63h&triedRedirect=true. My segment appears approximately 27 minutes in.

 

I am grateful to Ariadne Sawyer and Victor for hosting me on the World Poetry Café.

The Lost Hat

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When a young lady who visited my flat

Said, “I think I have lost my hat!”

And I said, “after that booze

You lost more than your shoes!”

She said, “just give me back my hat …!”

Dash

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Sometimes I dash

Along the churchyard path.

But those who sleep

Have no appointments to keep.

And I pass by

The graveyard plot

Until I do not.

 

 

Yet I must

My final appointment keep

With worms and dust.

And the earth

Will continue to turn

Without heed or need

Of me

London Encounter

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Walking along the familiar street

I meet

A lady who asks me

For £1

So that she

Can get to bank.

 

I give her the pound

And laugh at her story.

 

I receive no thanks

But get asked for £5

(Which I deny I have).

 

I go home

Thinking on philosophy,

Lies,

And the fickleness of charity.

 

But who

Exploited who

I wonder

As I sit alone

At home

Writing poetry …

 

(Note: “Bank” refers to bank station on the London underground).

Dodgy Geezer

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I met a young lady Named Louisa

Who said, “you are a dodgy geezer!”

I said, “I’m not dodgy,

But perhaps a little podgy!”,

Which tickled that young lady named Louisa!

 

Aphrodite’s Nightie

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My girlfriend whose name is Aphrodite

Went and bought a see-through nightie.

Her friend Miss Echo

Is fond of Prosecco –

And the vicar has her nightie …