A generous opportunity to share a post. Kevin
How to Gain Free Publicity for Your Page: Reblogging
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Author Archives: K Morris Poet
My First Romantic Poetry Book
Hitler And Stalin
The Gulag.
The present like the past is mad.
Black clad figures
Their fingers on triggers.
Russian or Prussian?
An interesting discussion.
Jews and Kulaks their lives lose.
Who to choose?
A man drowning in his country’s blood,
Or one who would destroy Jewry if he could?
What a choice.
History’s voice
is cold and level,
“We allied with the devil,
To destroy his twin,
the mirror image of him.
The world is a better place
But a nasty taste
Still lingers.
Man has burned his fingers,
To often,
History’s lessons are easily forgotten”.
Angelic Girl
An angel beautiful and serene
I saw as in a dream.
Pure as the freshly fallen snow
Before boots trample it low
She did seem.
‘twas An ignis fatuus
Which in the marsh does gleam.
Autumn Rain
A further poem in honour of Autumn. “Autumn Rain” can be found in “Dalliance: A Collection Of Poetry And Prose”, (http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dalliance-collection-poetry-prose-Morris-ebook/dp/B00QQVJC7E or http://www.amazon.com/Dalliance-collection-poetry-prose-Morris-ebook/dp/B00QQVJC7E).
Autumn Rain
Rain you are lonely, crying outside in the darkness.
A few sad fireworks fizzle and die.
Me, sitting alone on my sofa. Rain, is it you who are lonely, or I?
There But For The Grace Of
One of my favourite restaurants, the Thai Crystal, which is situated some 20 minutes walk from my home, was hit by a bus at 6:30 am on 23 September. Extensive damage was done to the front of the building but, fortunately the staff who live on the premises where uninjured, while the bus driver received only minor injuries. Had the accident taken place on a busy evening there is little doubt there could have been serious injuries or worse. I thank god (or fate) that the accident happened when it did.
Kevin
Autumn Breeze
An autumn breeze
Russles ancient trees.
Scented leaves whirl
Fragrant as the girl
Who’s hair flows
As the wind blows.
bare arms reaching for the sky
Desirous to fly
With the birds
Who’s song is on this evening heard.
Why Authors Shouldn’t Write Four Books a Year
Book Marketing for Self-Published Authors – Quality or Quantity?
By Lorraine Devon Wilke via The Huffington Post
Lorraine Devon Wilke, who is an experienced author of three novels, emphasizes the importance of bucking the trend of churning out book after book at breakneck speed. Instead, she exhorts self-published authors to think about quality, rather than quantity.
No matter what experts tell you, no matter what trends, conventional wisdom, social media chatter or your friends in the Facebook writers group insist upon, do NOT write four books a year. I mean it. Don’t.
Unless they’re four gorgeously written, painstakingly molded, amazingly rendered and undeniably memorable books. If you can pull off four of those a year, more power to you. But most can’t. I’d go so far as to say no one can, the qualifier being good books.
Beyond the fact that the marketplace is glutted with an overwhelming number of books…
View original post 1,134 more words
We Should Stand With Our Fellow Bloggers Who Are Being Threatened With Death
The Guardian reports that a militant group has published a “hitlist” of activists and bloggers. The extremist organisation has said that the named individuals (some of whom are UK citizens) should be killed due to their criticism of Islam. We should all as bloggers and believers in freedom condemn outright this barbarous threat. A number of individuals have already died simply for daring to express views which these fanatics regard as heretical.
It is easy to believe that such threats have little relevance to us as authors of fiction. However practically everything written can, if read (or mis-read) by a deranged person cause offence and lead the reader to engage in violence against the writer. Unless one confines oneself purely to writing technical manuals there exists a possibility that your words will, sooner or later cause offense. We should all be concerned and stand together with our fellow bloggers who are threatened by those who have a warped conception of Islam. (I say warped as most Muslims have no truck with fanatics).
Ploughing
I shall plough my furrow
watching others burrow.
I shall sit with unclouded brow
Observing my fellow man worry about when and how.
I shall stand aloof
While others concern themselves with the truth.
The sun shines.
My lines
run on.
The time is long since gone
For expressing anything other than amusement
Or bemusement.
Who will smile in the end
When the axe descends?
