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.

“Sic Vita” by Henry King

I awoke at a little after 3:30 this morning and got up in order to quench my thirst. As I moved through my home the cry of an owl reached my ears, which brought to mind “Sic Vita” by Henry King:

“Like to the falling of a star,
Or as the flights of eagles are,
Or like the fresh spring’s gaudy hue,
Or silver drops of morning dew,
Or like a wind that chafes the flood,
Or bubbles which on water stood:
Even such is man, whose borrowed light
Is straight called in, and paid to night.

The wind blows out, the bubble dies,
The spring entombed in autumn lies,
The dew dries up, the star is shot,
The flight is past, and man forgot”.

I Know A Pretty Young Blonde

I know a pretty young blonde
Of whom I’m extremely fond.
My wife Yvette
Works as a vet
And she doesn’t like that blonde …!

—

I know a pretty young blonde
Of whom I’m rather fond.
When she met
My wife Yvette
It ended in the pond!

Kevin Morris reading his poems ‘Genes’ and ‘Reprieve’.

 

Both of these poems can be found in my collection ‘Refractions’, which is available here for the UK and here for the US.

 

My latest collection of poetry, ‘The Writers Pen and other poems’ is also available on Amazon, here for the UK, and here for the US.

 

A Short Analysis of Thomas Hood’s ‘I Remember, I Remember’

In just 5 words “the tree is living yet” Hood implies (implicitly) that his brother who “set” the tree is no longer living thereby adding to the sombre nature of the poem.

InterestingLiterature's avatarInteresting Literature

‘I Remember, I Remember’ is, along with ‘The Song of the Shirt’, Thomas Hood’s best-loved poem. Although much of the rest of his work is not now much read or remembered, ‘I Remember, I Remember’ has a special place in countless readers’ hearts. Although its meaning is fairly straightforward, it’s worth probing the language of Hood’s poem a little deeper, as closer analysis reveals why this poem is held in such high regard.

I Remember, I Remember

I remember, I remember,
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon,
Nor brought too long a day,
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away!

I remember, I remember,
The roses, red and white,
The vi’lets, and the lily-cups,
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,

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There Was A Young Man Called Moat

There was a young man called Moat
Who knowing not which way to vote
Asked his girlfriend Lou
Whether to vote red or blue
While riding on a goat!

—

There was a young man called Moat
Who knowing not which way to vote
Went out on the town
His sorrows to drown
Then voted for a goat!

—

There was a young man called Moat
Who knowing not which way to vote
Went out on the town
His sorrows to drown
And quite forgot to vote!