Kevin Morris reading his poem ‘Unrequited’.
K Morris reading his poem ‘Unrequited’.
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Monthly Archives: January 2017
K Morris reading his poem ‘Feet of Clay’.
The inspiration for this poem was Hamlet’s remark: ‘We are arrant knaves, all. Believe none of us’ (Act 3, Scene 1).
K Morris reading his poem ‘May’.
May is an ancient pagan festival which witnesses men and women dancing around the maypole.
K Morris reading his poem ‘Death is Dead’.
What if we finally conquer death, and he is no more?
K Morris reading his poem ‘No Alarm’.
Going to bed at night, we assume that will be awakened by our alarm next morning. But…
K Morris reading his poem ‘Milk’.
We continue to go about our hum-drum lives while others are suffering loss.
K Morris reading his poem ‘Circles’.
The debate surrounding sex work/prostitution appears to go around in circles, with one side blaming the sex bias, and saying that they should be fined or imprisoned, while the other argues that the state/society has no business interfering in what occurs between consenting adults. Often, it seems that neither side is listening to the other, while client and sex worker continue in their age-old roles.
K Morris reading his poem ‘Owl’.
I’ve always felt an affinity with owls. My home is close to a historic park in Upper Norwood (a suburb of Greater London). From time to time, I hear the owls’ eerie cry, which brings to mind thoughts of my own mortality, coupled with the death of King Duncan in Macbeth.
K Morris reading his poem ‘Shadows’.
This poem came to me while sitting in my study. Shadows played upon the walls and brought to mind the impermanence of things. I am visually impaired but can see the play of shadows on my wall, although I cannot read print.
K Morris reading his poem ‘Genes’.
Are we just our genes?
K Morris - Poet 