I know an extremely pretty young barmaid
And many a game we have played.
When I say to her, “Bess,
Shall we play draughts or chess?”,
She winks at me does that barmaid …!
Draughts or Chess
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Author Archives: K Morris Poet
When it Rains
When it rains
I try not to complain
For in the drought
Flowers die out
And we all need
To feed on the rain.
Fleeting
Traffic goes by
It’s sound amplified by rain.
A plane flies
In the summer sky
And birds sing.
While I compose my poetry
Touching on eternity
And the fleeting spring.
Heaven
When a beautiful young lady said, “Kevin,
At seven I’ll send you to heaven!”.
I said to her, “darling Heather,
I look forward to the pleasure!”,
Then she produced a pistol at seven!
Perfunctory
After their perfunctory hug
She leaves his flat.
She knows the street is cold.
Though she has never experienced that –
Just his snug flat
Where time passes
In wine glasses.
And 2 bodies meet
Under the unjudging sheet.
Out Shooting Grouse
When I met a gentleman out shooting grouse
Who said, “sir, have you seen my spouse?”.
And I said, “I’ve seen Moriah
In a haystack with the squire!”,
He said, “I’ll shoot more than those grouse!”
Calling all Poets
As some of you know, I am a regular guest on the World Poetry Reading Café, where I read and discuss my poetry.
I am delighted to announce that I have been invited to do a monthly segment (starting on 22 July), during which I will interview fellow poets and read some of my own poetry from time to time.
If you are a poet and would be interested in being interviewed by me, please send an email to kmorris poet (at) gmail.com with the subject line “World Poetry Café”. Please include a brief biography in your email together with any links to your social media Etc. No explicitly adult content please.
You can find previous episodes of the World Poetry Café here https://www.mixcloud.com/genres/world-poetry-cafe/.
I look forward to hearing from you.
My Gorgeous AI
I have gone and bought a gorgeous AI
Who goes by the name of Miss Sky.
She says “as a robot,
I often get real hot”.
Then she smiles and bats her one eye …
Miss Mudd
A young lady known as Miss Mudd
Likes to make love in the wood.
My friend vicar Lyme
Is fond of rhyme
And his shoes are covered in mud
Algorithm
I have striven
For a benign life rhythm.
But I find
In social media’s algorithmic mind
The growing danger
Of an echo chamber
Where one’s view
Of what is true
Is echoed back
To me and you.
And the best
Is swamped by an algorithmic mess
Where truth dies
And wild conspiracies and lies thrive
Ending in hate.
K Morris - Poet 