Author Archives: K Morris Poet

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About K Morris Poet

The purpose of this website (kmorrispoet.com) is to showcase my writing. For details of my published works, please click on the 'About' page of my blog.

Your chance to win a signed copy of “The Writer’s Pen and Other Poems” by poet K Morris

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I am offering my readers the chance to win a signed copy of my collection of poems, “The Writer’s Pen and Other Poems”, (paperback edition), https://www.amazon.com/dp/1730814883/.

The Rules:

1. Only one signed copy of “The Writer’s Pen and Other Poems” is available.
2. The first person to provide the answer to the question posed at the end of this post will receive a signed copy of my book.
3. The winner will have their prize mailed to them in December 2018.
4. Anyone (irrespective of their location) may enter.
5. To enter please send an email to newauthoronline (at) gmail dot com, (the address is given thus to defeat spam bots etc)! Please put “competition to win a copy of The Writer’s Pen” in the subject line of your email.
6. The competition closes on 28 November. No entries received after this date will be considered.

The Question

Who wrote the poem which begins thus:

“The curfew tolls the knell of parting day
The lowing herd wind slowly o’er the lea
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way
And leaves the world to darkness and to me”.

Auschwitz

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justinfenech's avatar

1

“Along the train tracks a group of Jewish boys were singing. It was magical. I hated them. How dare they let magic into this living hell? And then, I saw her. I saw the woman who would become my wife posing for a photo at the gates of Auschwitz.”

2

For most of the people walking into the gates of that cold, wind-swept institution, most of their impressions of the war and the Holocaust came from films like Schindler’s List and Boy in the Striped Pyjamas.

One man, in his twenties, thought this was a disgrace. But perhaps, remembering this unspeakable genocide via the medium of entertainment was their way – our way – of being able to creep up close to the memory. And we need to be close to the memory, the young man thought, that we could all agree on.

It started to rain. The…

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Who will be the UK’s next Poet Laureate

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An interesting article in The Guardian regarding who will fill the role of the United Kingdom’s next Poet Laureate, when the current incumbent, Carol Ann Duffy vacates the position in 2019, https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2018/nov/10/wanted-one-royal-rhymester-an-interest-in-trees-and-homeopathy-an-advantage. You can find out more about the UK’s Poet Laureate by following this link, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poet_Laureate_of_the_United_Kingdom.

Crows at Dusk

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Dusk is falling.
I hear
In the autumn of my year
Crows calling
And the chatter of the magpie
As I
Ponder on days of yore.

The caw
Of this dark bird
Was no
Doubt heard
Long ago
By those who walked this self-same track.

The evening is chill
But I will
Not turn back
For melancholy is a precious part
Of the human heart,
And those who forever laugh
Do not comprehend
That every path
Must reach its end.

—

I hear children playing in a garden close to the park.
‘Tis a happy sound after the cawing of the crows.
Who knows
Perhaps matters
Are not so stark
For not all dreams shatter
And something of what is precious may survive.

‘The Way through the Woods’: A Poem by Rudyard Kipling

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InterestingLiterature's avatarInteresting Literature

Following yesterday’s tree-themed poem, today we share ‘The Way through the Woods’, one of the best-loved poems by Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936). Although he is not known for writing obscure poetry (some of his short stories are true head-scratchers, mind!), Kipling leaves the meaning of ‘The Way through the Woods’ somewhat ambiguous.

‘The Way through the Woods’ by Rudyard Kipling

They shut the road through the woods
Seventy years ago.
Weather and rain have undone it again,
And now you would never know
There was once a road through the woods
Before they planted the trees. 

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“Attack” by Siegfried Sassoon, as read by Dame Helen Mirren

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A powerful reading by Dame Hellen Mirren of Siegfried Sassoon’s poem “Attack”,

We authors/poets are often exhorted to “show not tell”. Sassoon’s poem does a lot of “telling” and does it extremely effectively. Indeed I am of the firm conviction that many of those who exhort we writers to “show not tell” can not hold a candle to Sassoon.

Kevin