In honour of bonfire or Guy Fawkes Night, I am reproducing below my poem “Catherine Wheel”, which can be found in “The Selected Poems of K Morris”:
Catherine Wheel
Sometimes I feel
Like a Catherine wheel;
My words as sparks,
Lighting the dark.
But who in December
Remembers
The fifth of November?
—
“The Selected Poems of K Morris” is available as a Kindle download or in paperback from Amazon, https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07WW8WXPP/ and https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07WW8WXPP/.
My thanks to Aurora for featuring me on Writer’s Treasure Chest.
Welcome!
Please introduce yourself.
I was born in the city of Liverpool on 6 January 1969.
Having attended Saint Vincents School for the Blind in Liverpool, and the Royal National College for the Blind in Hereford, I went on to read history and politics at University College of Swansea.
Having graduated with a BA (joint honours) in history and politics, and an MA in political theory, I moved to London in 1994 where I now live and work.
Being blind and unable to read print, I use software called Job Access with Speech (JAWS) which converts text into speech and braille, enabling me to use a Windows laptop. All of my poems are written using JAWS.
When did you start writing?
I began writing seriously in 2012-2013, although I do remember composing a poem entitled “The Snake” whilst at school in Liverpool. I recollect that it began, “slithering through…
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When a young man named Pat
Threatened me with a large bat
I said, “put down that mammal
Or I shall loose my camel!”.
So pat put down that bat!
Eliot spoke of an “unreal city”.
I could, perhaps, say something witty.
But, in this great city
A second lockdown starts today,
So there is nothing witty
I can say.
Read “The Wasteland”
For Eliot’s command
Of language surpasses mine.
‘Tis a bitter wine,
But, does, perhaps convey
What I wish to say.
A young lady with morals most loose
Likes to ride around on a goose.
My friend calls her Clair,
And the vicar Miss Flair.
And sometimes I ride on her goose!
When a young lady named Miss Heather
Said, “I don’t like this cold weather”.
A most wicked man called Ted
Said, “its warm in my bed”.
But I don’t know whether Miss Heather …
A young lady wearing a short dress
Said, “I’ve many a sin to confess!”.
I said, “my dear Miss Lou
That is a matter for you.
But don’t mention you, me and Bess!”.
An old poet playing on the flute
Said, as he pulled on his boot,
“That pretty Miss Glover
Makes a good lover.
But she has stolen my other boot!”.
You removed your hairband.
Not at my command.
But you knew my desire.
A play with fire.
Trapped, in a rhyme
Of youth, and Father Time.
When my friend, whose name is Ted
Found a girl asleep in his bed
He said, to his wife,
“Please, put down that knife!”.
Now Ted is hiding under my bed!
K Morris - Poet 