I’m having problems because the battery has died on my laptop and I’m waiting for a new cable so I can charge it again, as a problem is emanating from the cable.
Therefore, I’m unable to blog at the moment.
I’ll be back online as soon as possible.
Kevin Morris
When a young lady wearing only a hat
Went and invited me back to her flat,
And I said, “Rose!
Where are your clothes!”,
She said, “You’re silly! They’re at my flat!”
I am pleased to have had my poem On the Death of a Writer included in the October readings of Dodo Modern Vidpoets, DODO MODERN VIDPOETS 2024/2025: VIRTUAL DODO FOURTEEN – OCTOBER 2025
Also included, are readings by Sophia Argyris, and my friend Nick Alldridge.
My poem On the Death of a Writer can also be found in my most recent collection, Passing Through; Some Thoughts on Life and Death, which is available from Amazon Passing Through: Some thoughts on life and death: Amazon.co.uk: Morris, K: 9798284279151: Books
A patch of sunlight on the hall floor.
I close the living room door
And the light is seen no more.
I know the night kills the light
And the ferryman waits to take
Me to the final gate
Where there is no Cerberus
To prevent our escape.
Just what was us
And implacable fate.
I am marrying a young lady named Kate
Who will inherit all of my literary estate.
She says, “writers have money”,
Which I find really funny –
As she’ll inherit all of my literary estate …
I am delighted to announce that I will be reading my poetry at Ashburton Library in Croydon on Saturday 8 November at 2 pm. For anyone who is in the vicinity and would like to attend please follow this link for further information and to book https://croydon.events.mylibrary.digital/event?id=247174
I look forward to seeing you on Saturday 8 November.
Every author loves to hear from their fans. I was therefore flattered to receive the following email which, inexplicably had ended up in my spam folder. I can’t for the life of me imagine why!
“Dear Kevin E. Morris,
I recently discovered your YA thriller, Heightened: Project Evolve, and was impressed by the fast-paced storytelling, compelling worldbuilding, and Kai Chapman’s powerful journey from uncertainty to identity. The balance you’ve struck between action, suspense, and emotional resonance makes this story especially appealing to young adult readers who crave both adventure and self-discovery.”
After the flattery, comes the solicitation of business:
“I also noticed areas where minor refinements in phrasing and structure could strengthen readability and enhance its impact. With the right editing polish and targeted promotional strategies, I believe Heightened: Project Evolve has the potential to stand out in the crowded YA market and secure Top-20 bestseller status on Amazon within its categories …”.
Whilst my name is indeed Kevin Morris, my middle initial is not E, nor have I written a young adult novel entitled “Heightened: Project Evolve”. Methinks that the spammer in question has wasted both their time and mine by firing off the above email.
I doubt the author of the email which, in my opinion, the real Kevin E Morris was fortunate not to have received, has even read the YA work in question. More than likely they read the book blurb and perhaps glanced at a few reviews prior to firing off the email sighted above. Or, perhaps they made use of AI.
I am sure that I am not the only writer whose mailbox has been honoured with such expressions of admiration, followed by a solicitation for money, and I’m sure that I won’t be the last. As is so often said, if something looks too good to be true. The chances are that it is too good to be true!
The last
Of the summer grass
Is mown.
The future is unknown.
The past
May be a guide.
But we decide
What seed is sown.
But does grass
In the mower’s grasp
Feel itself free …
Caught up in thoughts of work
I heard a bird sing.
I have been touched by beauty
And knowledge of my mortality.
He flies free
While I feel the futility
Of my work
When he sings.
When a young lady named Jacinta
Went and trod on a splinter,
She hopped all around
And said something profound.
And then she cursed that splinter!
K Morris - Poet 