There once was a hen named Gwen
Who dated a fine fox called Ken.
They met for a meal
And I really do feel
That we won’t be seeing Gwen again …
Gwen the Hen and a Fox Called Ken
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Monthly Archives: December 2024
Gwen and the Gren
There was a young lady known as Gwen
Who worked in a pub called the Gren.
A drinker named Dan
Was a rude man,
So Gwen kicked him out of the Gren!
Conversation with a Stranger
She was born in the year
I came here
To live and work.
She will thrive when time’s scythe
Has ended me.
I feel no jerk
Of sudden fear
Of the Reaper as he draws near.
I have felt lust
And feared dust.
But today I simply say my goodbye
And accept that I
Will, one day die.
The train moves on.
She is gone.
And I will do my work today.
Musings on a Bleak December Day
On a cold December day
I stop
And suddenly become
Aware of the ticking clock.
The sun
Hides it’s face.
It will rain again today.
I will embrace
Old Father Time in rhyme.
I grow older
And sense his great hand
Waiting to land
On my bowing shoulders.
I must try
Not to waste time.
For the clock
Will, one day, … stop
A Young Lady of this Great Nation
When a young lady of this great nation
Invited me to a night of extreme dissipation,
I said to her, “Coral!
That is so very immoral!”.
She said, “yes! Its what made this nation!”.
Poet Kevin Morris Interviewed by Ariadne Sawyer of the World Poetry Reading Series for December 12th 2024
I was delighted to be interviewed by Ariadne Sawyer of the World Poetry Reading Series for her show on December 12th. During the podcast, I read a number of my poems and talk about my poetry and the creative process. For the podcast please visit, https://www.mixcloud.com/VictorSchwartzman/world-poetry-cafe-with-kevin-morris-dec-12-2024/. My segment begins approximately 15 minutes into the show.
Our Own Hell
I heard school children at play
On a late December day.
Soon I will turn 57.
Will I be nearer to heaven?
Or to hell?
I’ve heard mythologists tell
How gods play
With women and men,
And how we have no chance against them.
On this winter’s day
In late December, I know that our fate
Lies in man’s hands.
When the jackboots stamp in the concentration camps
Men create living hell
And no gods weep.
Sometimes I Wish the Rain
Sometimes I wish the rain
Would not cease.
It quiets my heated brain.
But the rain
Will cease. And I yearn for the peace
Of the steady drip, drip, drip of rain
To return again
And cool my heated brain.
Gus and the Bus
When a daring young man known as Gus
Suggested we all make love on the bus!
And Miss Leven said, “Kevin!
Do take me to heaven!”.
I wondered, is it that kind of bus?
The Book Destroyer
There was a young man named Roy
Who said, “all these books I’ll destroy!”.
A bookish girl called Grace
Pushed over a heavy bookcase
Which flattened that young man named Roy!
K Morris - Poet 