Monthly Archives: June 2019

There Was A Young Man Named Glass

There was a young man named Glass
Who appeared on a rather remarkable podcast.
There being absolutely no sound
It was very profound,
And the critics all raved about Glass!

Poet Kevin Morris to appear on the Magic Happens Now podcast with Annette Rochelle Aben

I am delighted to announce that I shall be interviewed, by Annette Rochelle Aben for the Tell Me a Story podcast, at 5 pm on Friday 7 June, https://themagichappensnow.com/tell-me-a-story-with-annette-rochelle-aben/.

Once the podcast goes live I shall, of course post a link to it here. My thanks to Annette for her kindness in agreeing to interview me.

Kevin

New photographs on my Instagram

I have uploaded a number of new pictures to my Instagram.

 

Instagram Poets

Having recently started an Instagram to promote my poetry, I was interested to read this article on Instagram poets, https://mashable.com/article/instagram-poetry-democratise-genre/?europe=true.

According to the article, Instagram has led to a significant growth in the number of young people reading poetry online thereby democratising the world of poetry. While some poets confine themselves to Instagram, others have graduated to bookstores.

Instagram poets are viewed by some literary critics as debasing/commercialising the poetic craft, while other people see the utilisation of Instagram by poets as a means of giving a voice to minorities.

I, personally view Instagram as one means of promoting my poetry. I began by posting on this site (kmorrispoet.com), moved on to ebooks and (later) print, and I’m now on Instagram. Any means of communication can, of course be used to post pap, however Instagram (or any other medium) can also be utilised to promote work of genuine literary merit. To me anything which implants in readers a love of poetry can only be a good thing.

You can find my Instagram here, https://www.instagram.com/kmorrispoet/

As I Walked Through The Graveyard Last Night

As I walked through the graveyard last night
I met a young woman in white.
As she arose from her grave
With a ghoul called Dave
I said, “do you fancy a drink tonight?”

As I walked through the graveyard last night
I saw a young woman in white.
As she arose from her grave
I said, “my soul I must save!”,
Then I ran like the clappers last night!

The Dos And Donts of Interacting with a Blind or Visually Impaired Person

People come to my blog either because they like my poetry, or due to a post on a subject of interest to them catching their attention. Most of those clicking on this site are unaware of the fact that I am registered blind (unless they click on my “About page and see a photograph of me with my guide dog, Trigger, or they come across one of the few posts in which I talk about my visual impairment).

Not being aware of my blindness means that my readers interact with me as they would with anyone else (which is, of course as it should be for I am not defined by my visual impairment). However, when I meet people in the real (off-line world) I do come across individuals who are unsure how to interact with a visually impaired person, indeed some people are downright embarrassed.

A few days back, I came across this excellent post on “Life of a Blind Girl”, https://lifeofablindgirl.com/2019/06/02/the-dos-and-donts-when-interacting-with-a-blind-or-visually-impaired-person/, in which the author talks about the dos and donts of interacting with someone who is blind or visually impaired. In essence, as the author states, one should interact with a blind or visually impaired person in the same way in which one would interact with anyone else.

However (as the blogger points out) many people do not follow this simple rule. Examples of the behaviour identified by the author (and experienced by myself) include: speaking to the non-visually impaired companion of the blind person rather than addressing the visually impaired person directly, asking personal questions one would not address to a non-disabled person and being afraid of using commonly utilised language such as “see you later”.

In terms of the latter, I have lost count of the number of occasions on which someone has said “see you around” only to apologise to me for using visual language!

As someone who is blind, I use such language all the time and I don’t expect people to avoid utilising it when interacting with me. In fact by employing such language people demonstrate that they regard me (and other blind/visually impaired people) as individuals who are not defined by our disability.

There are too many self-appointed spokesmen who claim to speak on behalf of the visually impaired (and, I would add other groups), who say that one should not employ such and such language. Many of these people are well meaning (but wrong) while a few do, perhaps wish to use disability politics for their own unholy ends.

I commend this article to anyone who has ever felt unsure (or embarrassed) as regards interacting with a visually impaired or blind person.

Kevin

A Poet Named Mark

There once was a poet named Mark
Whose verse was extremely dark,
So they sent him to sea
On a rotten old tree,
Where he was eaten by a shark!

I know a young man named Mark
Whose verse is extremely dark.
He sails the great sea
On a rotten old tree,
And plays upon his harp!

How Convenient To Have A Graveyard So Close To My Home

How convenient to have a graveyard
So close to my home.
‘Twill not be hard
As, when I die
There will not be far to go
For my bones
But, you know
The place has remained undisturbed
By burials for many a year.
I am perturbed
And shed a tear
As I do not know
Where I shall go
When I die.

Perhaps my ashes will, in a pub find a place
And the drinker, with his or her flushed face
Will look at me and say,
“He used to drink this way.
Another beer
Here barman, for I feel suddenly queer
And must drink
Else I shall think
On dust
And he, who has into the grave been thrust!”.

I dislike
The idea of fire
And my desire
Is for burial. Yet the night
Will come down all the same
So why should I care
Whether I am consumed by flame
Or end up underground?
For the truth profound
Is that I will not be there
To know or care.