Sometimes I would
That the bud
Could stay
That way.
In spring
Birds sing
And buds, for an hour,
Flower.
Sometimes I would
That the bud
Could stay
That way.
In spring
Birds sing
And buds, for an hour,
Flower.
You, so slim
And supple,
Caused me to forget
My regret
And toil
In your soft brown skin,
And coconut oil.
A couple
For the night.
With the morning light
I was left, bereft
With the fading excite
Of the scent of coconut oil
From your brown girl skin,
Permeating the sheet
Where 2 strangers did, for a moment, meet.
There once was a sad old clown
Who made the people frown.
His act was so bad
That it drove them all mad,
So they drummed him out of town!
Men their hearts lose
To girls in unsuitable shoes.
Fire will always burn.
No lessons are learned
While the world, unconcerned
On it’s axis continues to turn.
—
I owe a debt to Kiplings’s “The Gods of The Copybook Headings” for line 3 of the poem:
“As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!”.
http://www.kiplingsociety.co.uk/poems_copybook.htm
As a poet, I am constantly looking for new and inovative ways to promote my work. To date I have distributed business cards, given poetry readings, been featured on Vancouver Co-Op Radio’s The World Poetry Reading Series and, of course posted here on kmorrispoet.com.
It struck me recently that what is lacking is the creation of a great sensation as a means of bringing my work to the attention of a wider audience. Consequently I have determined, on 1 April, to parade around the city of London dressed in a yellow polka dot bikini. The dots will, of course spell out an as yet unpublished poem. I feel sure that as I stroll around Trafalgar Square, London’s Oxford Street and other such hives of activity, that both I and my poems will attract great attention. My hope is that not only will tourists take photographs but that I will, with luck make the national news, perhaps even elbowing Brexit to the margins of media coverage!
I can not, however claim that this idea is entirely my own. In fact it came to me when viewing this video on Youtube. However I, unlike the young lady featured below, will not be shy as I parade around the great metropolis of London!
When a young lady with knobbly knees
Said, “your dog undoubtedly has fleas!”,
He remarked, with a bark,
“The truth is stark,
Young lady, you have knobbly knees!”.
Last night, I fell into conversation with an acquaintance who owns a market stall. My acquaintance sells a good many books (all second-hand), old records and similar items. Many of the people who buy from him are book lovers, however a lady recently bought a whole series of Penguin Classics (all with identical spines) to furnish the home of a person who (I suspect) is more interested in the social status gained by the ownership of an original set of Penguins than in any benefit derived from the pleasure of actually reading them. Indeed the lady doing the buying told my acquaintance that she was an interior decorator who had been specifically commissioned to purchase books for purely decorative purposes. My friend is a lover of literature and did consider not selling to the customer. However, we all must live. Consequently a sale was made and a set of Penguins, with identical spines are now (or soon will be) gracing a bookcase where they will, in all probability languish unread.
While the above incident is sad, it is not unusual. Many a country squire was more interested in hunting, shooting and fishing than in the pleasures of the mind. Although many such gentlemen where possessed of fine libraries, the bookcases often remained undisturbed, apart from the dustings of servants, and perhaps the attentions of a curious house guest or a blue stocking daughter, or other relative who might, on occasion take down and enjoy one of the leather bound tomes.
While I can’t claim that every book on my bookshelves has been read, I have always purchased them with the intention of reading, and most of the volumes in my bookcases have been well thumbed and enjoyed. What about you, my dear readers, have you ever bought a book with the sole intention of displaying (rather than reading it)?
The poet sees
The birds and the bees.
The overheard act
Of a fact
Of life.
Wholly unintentional
And inconsequencial,
The poet sees
The birds and the bees.
Excited sighs,
Slowly dies.
Tick tock
Of clock.
Lovers they
Can not stay.
The white cliffs of Dover may remain
Though the express train
Negotiates a perilous ledge.
Or over the edge
We may go
Though ignorant armies say, “below
Lies salvation
For the nation”.
I shall read Arnold’s “Dover Beach”
And think on bad
Faith
And mad
Men