If I could be one with the song of the birds
No words
Would I require,
But man’s desire
Led to his fall,
And now the call
Of the bird
Goes unheard
By those drunk on their own words
Author Archives: K Morris Poet
Red Beach
A red beach.
The tide’s reach
Will wash away
This human clay.
Today
The mercenaries
Will take their pay.
Mad, bad and dangerous to know
I am in need of a trip to the barber’s, (I fully intend to pay a visit this weekend)! The length of my hair caused an acquaintance to remark that I had a “Byronic” look. Does that mean that I am, as Lady Caroline Lamb remarked of Lord Byron, “mad, bad and dangerous to know” I wonder?!
Mind your Phrases!
The producers of “Game of Thrones” threatened to sue a 13-year-old girl for using the phrase “winter is coming” in art work she had uploaded to the internet and shared on social media. The producers of “Game of Thrones” argue that the phrase is central to the series and they own the rights to it.
On the face of it this is a worrying development. Copyright is there to protect the intellectual property of creatives (authors, painters, poets etc). It plays a vital role in ensuring the creator of content gains the credit for their creations and any monies that may be generated. However the phrase “winter is coming” has been around long before “Game of Thrones” was ever thought of. As someone with no legal background I find it difficult to comprehend how a phrase which has been used for centuries can be construed as belonging to any one individual or entity. I once used the sentence “autumn has come in all her beauty”. Can I now argue that the phrase belongs to me? I have no intention of doing so. I could however (invoking the logic which seems to be being employed above) threaten to take legal action against anyone who utilises the phrase “autumn has come in all her beauty”, unless, of course someone else used it prior to me doing so!
As always I would be interested in my readers views. For the article please visit HERE
Posting A Letter
Posting a letter yesterday,
On my way
To the pub,
I pondered on this red survivor of a vanishing age.
People flip the page
On devices unknown
In my youth.
Wrapped up in their phone
Do they ponder on the age-old truth
That all fades away, as the vehicles that wiz so fast
By this survivor from the past?
I remember a time when the postman brought more than junk mail.
Now when the email fails
We are all at sea,,
While the luddite in me
Yearns for letters and the feel
Of something real.
There Was A Young Lady Called Rose
There was a young lady called Rose
Who decided a poem to compose.
She wrote a verse most fine,
While drunk on cheap wine
And tattooed it right on her nose …!
A useful list of internet radio stations
A useful list of internet radio stations, many of which I was unfamiliar with until I came across them in:
The Telegraph
While I don’t have my own internet radio station, I do post recordings of many of my poems on Youtube. To visit my Youtube channel please go:
HERE
Kevin
Where we going?.
A beautiful poem. Kevin
Relaxing
Yesterday (Saturday 10 December) I had been concentrating on my writing for a protracted period. I had gone into my living room in order to take a break from the creative process. My mind was, however still busily turning over ideas and I was not, in truth in a state of relaxation. Then, suddenly I heard a snorting noise and my guide dog, Trigger presented me with a rope toy he had received as a present from a colleague. I began tugging. Trigger, his tail waving madly pulled in the opposite direction and emited that playful growl which I know so well. My brain rested and I was conscious only of the pleasure both Trigger and I where deriving from the game. A sense of wellbeing flooded my body and I smiled as a consequence of the sheer joy of the deep connection between my dog and I.
My experience yesterday reminded me of a short poem I penned some months back, entitled “Dog and Ball”:
“My head full
Of dull
Thought.
Then the ball you caught
And waving your tail
Did derail
My introspection.
How can I suffer dejection
When I recollect your playful snort
And the ball you caught?”
(https://newauthoronline.com/2016/06/20/dog-and-ball/).
There Was A Young Man Called Pailing
There was a young man called Pailing
Who owned a goat named Grayling.
One day the animal got out,
And his neighbour did shout,
“Pailing! Grayling has just eaten my railing …!”
